A Rake by Midnight. Gail Ranstrom

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      “Furthermore,” Lady Sarah continued, “since you have said that you wish to be involved, you will have to enter society, Gina. It is the only way to gain access to the information we seek. We shall arrange for you to attend all the best functions, the more extravagant balls and crushes, and whatever other events that seem appropriate.”

      “Oh, I…”

      “You met the Thayer twins at my oldest brother’s house before…well, before. They have just arrived back in town after their summer holiday. Hortense and Harriet are quite lively and they know simply everyone and everything that goes on. In their company, you would have entrée to anywhere you wish to go.”

      Gina also recalled that the Thayer twins were singularly beautiful with their combination of copper hair and startling green eyes. But were they discreet?

      The thought of entering society left her short of breath, but she had no time to protest when the side door opened and a maid carrying a tea tray entered, followed by a pleasant-looking man of average height. This would be Francis Renquist, Madame Marie’s husband. His hair was sandy brown and his blue eyes had crinkle lines at the corners. Instinctively, Gina knew she could trust him.

      “Ladies,” he greeted them with a small bow, and when he straightened he rubbed his hands together. “I understand you have something for me?”

      The maid left the tray on a side table and closed the door behind her, after which Lady Annica spoke. “We need to find some men, Mr. Renquist. Some particularly elusive men.”

      His bushy eyebrows rose. “What have they done, my lady?”

      “Have you heard of the Blood Wyvern Brotherhood, sir?”

      The color drained from his face. “How are you involved with these men?”

      “We are not involved,” Lady Sarah soothed. “Nor do we wish to be. We merely wish to locate the last of them, after which we shall inform the authorities where to find him.”

      “Even so…”

      Lady Annica busied herself pouring out cups of tea and bringing them to the ladies, speaking as she did so. “Miss O’Rourke—” she indicated Gina with an inclination of her head “—and her sister, Mrs. Hunter, had some dealings with them a few months back. They are aware of the dangers and do not intend to encounter or confront the man involved. They simply have an interest in seeing that the perpetrators are safely locked away.”

      Gina blinked and squelched a pang of guilt. She fully intended to confront Mr. Henley. How else would she get her answers? But she feared the ladies would withdraw their support if she told them as much.

      Mr. Renquist looked doubtful. “What, exactly, do you hope to accomplish?”

      “Location, Mr. Renquist. That is all that we shall require of you,” Grace Hawthorne said. “We do not want you to apprehend him or even speak to him. Just find him.”

      “As you are aware, these matters are rarely so simple.”

      “This will be, Mr. Renquist,” Lady Sarah assured him.

      “The Home Office is expending every resource at their disposal to bring this man to justice. Why must you risk involving yourselves—”

      Lady Annica lowered her voice. “It is a personal matter,” she said with a note of finality.

      Mr. Renquist turned to look at Gina for one long moment. She held her breath, seeing that he wanted to refuse and was measuring her resolve. He must have read the determination in her heart because he let out a long sigh and nodded. “I will look into it, ladies, but I cannot make any promises. I will meet you here to report my findings twice a week unless there is need for more urgency. If you will let my wife know the days and times most convenient for you, I shall arrange to be here.”

      “Excellent!” Lady Sarah smiled and touched Mr. Renquist’s arm as he turned to go. “Would you please send Madame Marie to us? Miss O’Rourke will need to commission a gown to account for her frequent visits here.”

      A moment later, Madame Marie appeared in the doorway, one finger tapping her cheek thoughtfully as she studied Gina’s form. “Hmm. Something low and provocative, eh? Guaranteed to bring a man to ’is knees, yes? They will be so distracted that when you ask the questions, chéri, they will be compelled to give you the truth.”

      Gina suspected she would wear sackcloth if it would get to the truth.

      By the time she and Bella arrived home, Gina barely had time to freshen up for afternoon tea. She hurried down the stairs on her way to the parlor, but the sound of muffled voices from the library stopped her. Brotherhood, she heard, and Henley. Not given to eavesdropping, she nevertheless hesitated outside the door. The sound of Andrew’s voice, and those of James and Charles, was more than she could resist. Was this the business that closeted the brothers together in the library so often? Her business?

      “But the leads are drying up,” Charles’s voice carried to her.

      “…looking in the wrong places,” Andrew replied.

      “Where would you look?” James asked. “Parlors and sitting rooms?”

      A laugh, cut off in the middle, answered that question. “Go back to the hells and Whitefriar taverns. Farrell will help. He’s family now.”

      Gina shivered. Her sister Lilly’s new husband was a bit frightening to everyone but Lilly. Even though he was family now, she suspected it would not be a good thing to be in Devlin Farrell’s debt. But James’s next words disavowed her of that notion.

      “He has offered to help, and I will likely find a use for his particular talents. With him covering that end of the inquiries, Charlie and I will look to other avenues. But, as Charlie said, the leads are drying up.”

      “I can see you have your own suspicions,” Andrew said.

      There was a long pause before James spoke again, almost as if he were weighing his words carefully. “The one source we haven’t explored in depth is his family and close acquaintances. They’ve been reluctant to speak with us and have denied any knowledge of the affair. But, damn it all, Drew, they’ve got to be involved in some way. Henley is canny enough, but he could not elude us so nimbly without help from someone in society, and who more likely to help him than his family or friends? God knows, his family would want to keep the secret of his involvement as long as possible. Their own reputations are at stake. And a man like Henley would not hesitate to prevail upon friends.”

      Gina frowned. If Henley’s family was wary of James and the Home Office, she wondered if Mr. Renquist would be able to get past their defenses. Oh! She recalled there had been a woman at one of the two tableaus to which Cyril Henley had taken her before that last fateful night who had been almost as horrified as she. The woman had been familiar with everyone there, but her sensibilities had been more kindred to Gina’s. Both had blushed and studied the floor when one tableau featured a nude woman reclining on a backless couch with nothing but a light shawl draped across one hip and her nether regions. Was that woman Henley’s family? Or a friend? Could she know Henley’s whereabouts? Or was she somehow connected with one of the other men?

      Oh, if only she could remember the woman’s name!

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