The Debutante (The Sinclair Society Series, Book Two) Rough Draft

Chapter Nine

Hearing my real name shocked me into failing to resist for a mere moment and he managed to get me out of the hall. He knew who I was? How did he know who I was? "You have mistaken me for someone else, sir," I finally said as he pushed me into a library. My fingers curled around the letter, crumpling it.

Closing the door, Mr. Ingram chuckled. He moved to the sideboard and poured an amber liquid into a glass. "No, I don't believe I have. You bear a striking resemblance to your brother. I am astonished I did not notice it earlier. Would you like a drink?"

"You cannot keep me here."

"Oh, can't I? Your escort will soon be dead to the world. Is there someone else who will know where you are?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. If my escort and I do not return within the hour, he will come searching for us."

A scowl appeared for just a moment on his face but then he laughed again. "And what will you tell whoever comes for you? In fact, if this person does come, I think he would find it interesting to know your true identity. Now, do you want a drink? I won't offer again."

How could he think I would want a drink? I didn't even want to be in the house! "Sir, I tell you once more: you are mistaken."

"Brava." He clapped his hands in a mocking way. "You do make a valiant effort, Miss Sinclair. If I had not known your brother, or were not so well informed on many subjects, I might have believed you. After all, it a fantastical notion: a gently bred young lady taking on a servant's position. It will be the scandal of the season if it were to get out."

Clearly, insisting he was mistaken was not going to work. "Fantastical, indeed," I said, trying to think. He may know my identity, but that didn't mean I had to confess to everything. I took a step back. If it became necessary, I would run for the front door. "I wonder that you think anyone would believe it if you were to tell them."

The look he sent in my direction was filled with pity. "People generally believe what I tell them. Knowing things is what I am good at and I can make sure the most important people know what they should know."

"Is that so?"

Picking up his glass, Mr. Ingram came towards me. "Why don't you have a seat, Miss Sinclair, and we can discuss what I would like to keep silent about this."

I didn't need him to spell out what he meant by that. "I prefer to stand, and for you to keep your distance," I said, infusing as much cold disdain into my voice as was possible. "Say what you must, and then allow me to leave."

Mr. Ingram made a mocking bow. Thunder rumbled once again, drawing my attention briefly to the window. "Your wish is my command, my lady."

"If that were true, you wouldn't have brought me in here in the first place."
"A minor detail," Mr. Melbourne said, shrugging his shoulders. He walked over to the fireplace and sat down in the leather chair that was there. He sipped his drink and then held out his free hand. "I believe you have a letter meant for me."

Reminded of the letter in my hand, I mentally cringed. I scanned the room quickly and spotted a table that was between me and where he was. "So, I suppose this isn't a letter requesting an assignation, is it," I said as I walked to the table. I set the crumpled letter there and then retreated.

Scowling, he pushed up out of the chair and went to the table. "Miss Dunbar has her charms, to be sure," he said as he broke the seal. "However, there's only one thing she's proficient at, and that is acquiring gossip and that of spreading it when I deem it necessary."

Miss Dunbar was noting down the gossip she overheard at the events she attended and passed it on to him? Why would she do such a thing? Swiftly, I began to put it all together in my head. "Is this how you spend your time, then? Blackmailing people in your spare time?"