Edith Layton by The Devils Bargain

day.
    “Old schoolmates,” Leigh said with a shrug, “but bores. And, I fear, boors. They can be counted on to have many, many children,” he added to make Alasdair laugh, because he saw more in that bland expression than his friend knew. “They saw us chatting with the Swanson chit and your rescuer. I had to laugh it off, making myself the goat, convincing them it was a case of mistaken identity on my part. They knew her, you see,” he said, as they started walking again.
    Alasdair looked at him.
    “Yes. The Swansons may think they’re keeping their youngest a secret, but they can’t. They’re too well connected, and they do manage to pop off the odd daughter now and then. One of Reese’s brothers actually married one, last year. So he knows the whole bloodline, even the visiting cousin. He met her when he paid a call with his unfortunate brother the other week, and can’t seem to forget her either. She’s a gentleman farmer’s daughter from Kent. Of little money and no particular account, they said wistfully, because of the little money. Still, she’s connected to half the House of Lords, so she could stay with anyone, they say, but seems to like the invisible Swanson girl. She was invited to visit with the Norths as well as the Deals, here in London. She even has a standing invitation to stay with the Scalbys. But she refused. Seems your gentle rescuer has taste as well as remarkable eyes.”
    Alasdair stopped in his tracks. He wheeled around and stared at Leigh, his black eyes ablaze. “ Scalby? She’s related to them?”
    Leigh was taken aback. He hadn’t been thinking, just prattling, to cheer his friend. Too late, he realized his mistake. He damned himself. “Well, yes,” he said slowly. “On her mother’s side. But she’s no more kin to them than the Swansons. They’re blood, but twice or thrice removed, too. You can’t think she’s tainted because of it.”
    “But close enough to be invited to stay with them,” Alasdair said urgently, his face alight. “So close enough for them to know whatever she does wherever she stays.”
    Leigh’s eyes widened as he stared at his friend’s suddenly animated face. “No,” he said, as understanding set in. He slowly shook his head. “I’ll support you in many things, Alasdair, and have done too. But you can’t be thinking of making her part of…your plans. No. She’s blameless. Let her remain so.”
    “So she is,” Alasdair said with triumph, “but I’m not. I’d make God or the Devil part of it if it would help.”
    “But to hurt an innocent? That’s not like you.”
    “I wouldn’t go that far. But far enough, Leigh, far enough to get enough rope so they can hang themselves.”
    “And the girl?”
    “She looks able to skip rope. That’s all she’ll have to do.”
    Leigh said nothing, and kept his expression bland though he was deeply troubled. Alasdair never showed his hand. That he did now meant that his excitement overrode all his training. It was as rare as it was ominous. Leigh knew his friend well, so there was nothing more he could say. No one could argue that Alasdair didn’t deserve his revenge. And he wouldn’t listen if they did.
    But there was more he could do, Leigh thought.There was every possibility the young woman would be sent home before anything happened. Every possibility, plus another. He’d see to it.
    Alasdair walked on, lusting for Katherine Corbet as he never had for any woman. All thought of her lovely face and appealing figure was forgotten. In one blinding flash she’d become infinitely more desirable to him than beauty could ever be. Revenge was more important to him than sex, after all. Or food, wealth, or health, or breathing itself.
    She was fascinated with him, obviously. She could be useful.
    She was only a little straw, he reasoned with dark glee, but enough to break the camel’s back. Or better yet, kindling enough to start the purifying fire he’d been building toward all these long,