Lord Scoundrel Dies by Kate Harper Page A

nose and strong jaw, he epitomized all that was desirable
in a male. Even Sarah, a notorious flirt, became rather breathless
when the viscount was around.
    ‘That is entirely
different,’ he said now, voice terse. Clearly she was not supposed
to ask any questions about the nature of his visit.
    ‘In what way is it different?’ She was
immune to the repressive note in his voice. She was genuinely
curious as to why he had come. Apparently it was not to recover a
piece of jewelry or some missing chits but he must have had some
purpose. One did not visit a man at this hour unless he was a close
friend or keen on having a discussion that would not wait. She was
inclined to think that his lordship had come to Hill Street to have
words with Lord Sutton.
    His mouth had tightened. ‘It just is. I
wanted to see the man himself. It was about a private matter.’
    ‘This table is covered with private
matters,’ she had returned quietly. ‘And I intend to keep them that
way.’
    ‘But what are you going to do with them?’
Mr. Lampforth asked, sounding plaintive. He had wanted to go, that
much was obvious but seemed disinclined to abandon her. It was
oddly touching, considering he did not know her.
    ‘Return them to their owners.’
    ‘They are going to wonder how you came by
them,’ Mr. Lampforth had pointed out. ‘Bound to be talk, now that
Sutton is dead. They’ll probably think you did it.’
    This had brought her up short. He was right,
of course. The murder of Lord Sutton would cause a social furor.
She could hardly go about handing out his ill-gotten gains
willy-nilly for people would naturally wonder how she came by them.
‘I shall return them anonymously.’
    ‘There are quite a lot of things to return,’
the viscount had said dampeningly and Harry had been struck at just
how negative he was about the entire affair. Mr. Lampforth, at
least, was trying to be helpful, albeit reluctantly but Lord
Talisker had been far less agreeable. ‘Surely it would be easier
just to destroy the debts and the letters? The jewelry… I suppose
you could send it via the post.’
    ‘Too easy to trace,’ Mr. Lampforth had
objected. ‘Besides, do you actually know who owns all this
stuff?’
    Harry had hesitated. She didn’t, of course.
How could she when she had only been in town a short time and had
not yet matched gem to wearer? She only recognized Mrs.
Butterworth’s brooch because of the to do the lady had made at its
disappearance. It had been the day after she arrived at her aunt’s
house as well, which had helped to fix it in her memory. But as for
the rest… ‘I shall find a way to identify them,’ she had said,
possibly with more confidence than she actually felt. She would
discover the owners, but it might take a little time. As for his
lordship’s other suggestion… ‘And the debts and letters will be far
easier because at least they will have names on them. I can’t
destroy them. As I have already said, the owners will be most
anxious about their whereabouts. It is not a position I would care
to be in.’
    At her insistence, he had been forced to let
the matter go but not without telling her how foolhardy he thought
her. Which was just fine with Harry; she thought him opinionated,
stuffy and disagreeable. His attitude made her all the more
determined to carry out her plan. Sarah had been waiting up for her
when she returned to her aunt’s house and had burst into tears when
Harry had produced the necklace – tears of joy it was to be
presumed.
    ‘You found it! Harriet Honeywood, you are
the cleverest girl I have ever met. Did you have any trouble
finding it?’
    Harry had pursed her lips.
‘A little. Actually, there was one slight problem…’
    ‘What?’ Sarah had been examining the
necklace with loving eyes, running it through her fingers
caressingly.
    Harry had hesitated. Sarah was an excitable
kind of girl, inclined to loud noises if her sensibilities were
tickled. ‘Do you promise not to give one