The Conquest of Lady Cassandra by Madeline Hunter

Surely it was as significant as an insult that would cause a duel, I think you will agree.”
    “Oh, my,
yes
.”
    “That servant did a good turn not only to my friend, but to England itself, I think.”
    “By, Zeus, it was a most noble deception.”
    “How well you put it. So, how much of a gift would be appropriate? If it were you who performed such a noble deception, for example?”
    Higgins debated the matter. “Hard to say. One risks being sacked, doesn’t one? There would be no recommendation either. Indeed, one’s livelihood might be over for good. Noble or not, such a deception has huge risks, and the gift might reflect that.”
    Cassandra worried that Higgins increased the size of the “gift” with each mutter. “But it should not be so large as to appear to be a bribe, I think.”
    “Of course. Of course. Still—”
    “I think we must go now, my lady.” The frail declaration interrupted. The old woman who uttered it stood right behind Mr. Higgins.
    He turned, startled by the reminder that he and Cassandra were not alone.
    “In a few minutes, we shall,” Cassandra said. She had Higgins close to naming a figure.
    “I do not feel well, my lady. I am quite faint.”
    Higgins was at her side at once. “You should sit. I have salts here somewhere. I will—”
    “Fresh air is all I require, thank you.” Aunt Sophie sent a glare Cassandra’s way.
    “Of course,” Cassandra said. “How unkind of me not to understand that if you spoke up at all, it was most necessary.” She walked over to Sophie and slid an arm around her back. “Thank you, Mr. Higgins. For all your kind advice. I am rather glad that Lord Ambury was not at home. You have helped me enormously, and my business with him can be concluded another day.”
    With much fussing and worry on Higgins’s part, they helped Aunt Sophie down to the waiting coach. As soon as Mr. Higgins returned to the chambers, Cassandra expressed her displeasure.
    “I had him three-quarters there. He was about to name a sum, and I would then broach my situation and—”
    “As it happened, that was not necessary.” Aunt Sophie opened her reticule. She removed a letter and set it on Cassandra’s lap.
    It was her letter to Ambury.
    “You stole it!”
    “By your own explanation, and that of Mr. Higgins, it was not Ambury’s until he read it.”
    “Until it was
delivered
.”
    “Oh, I missed that part. Goodness, how careless of me. Tell the man to turn this coach around, and we will return it at once.”
    Cassandra was hardly going to do that. Nor should she upbraid her aunt, no matter how disgraceful this theft had been. She now held the letter in her hand, instead of it lying in those chambers waiting for Ambury to see it.
    She turned it over to break the seal and see if its language was as insulting as her memory insisted. The seal, however, was already broken.
    “Aunt Sophie, I wish you had not read it. I understand your curiosity, but now I am embarrassed that you know just how immoderate I was.”
    Sophie’s sharp interest snapped to Cassandra’s face, then to the letter in her hand. “I did not open it. I slipped it out of a large stack of mail on a desk in the library and stuck it in my reticule without looking at it much at all.”
    That was not good news. The seal was broken. It was unthinkable that Higgins had pried into his master’s mail.
    Probably the seal had accidentally broken in transit. Yes, that was what happened.
    The alternative did not bear thinking about.

Chapter 4
     
    T he house on Adams Street was a small abode on a lane toward the northern edge of Mayfair. Yates judged from its exterior that it provided comfort for Lady Cassandra and her aunt, but not luxury. It rose only three stories and looked all the more modest due to the two larger, wider houses that flanked it.
    There would be servants, but not many. Possibly some sort of carriage was available, but only one, and not a grand coach.
    He knew all about the economies such