The Paid Companion | Herophine

Chapter Seventeen

And there was another obstacle. Who would take the word of an unemployed butler over that of the powerful earl who had dismissed him?

No, he was probably doomed to return to his former career, he decided as he arrived at his new address. And it was all the fault of Tiffin and Miss Langford.

He let himself into the dingy hall and went up the stairs. The only good news on the horizon was that he was not going to have to start looking for a new post immediately. Over the course of the past few months, he had surreptitiously removed some lovely silver items and a couple of excellent rugs from the Rain Street house and taken them to the receivers in Shoe Lane who dealt in stolen goods. As a result, he had some money put aside that would enable him to take his time selecting his next situation.

He stopped in front of his room, dug out his key and fitted it into the lock. When he opened the door he saw the weak glow of a candle flame.

His first befuddled thought was that he had somehow unlocked the wrong door. Surely he had not been so foolish as to go off and leave a candle burning.

Then the voice came out of the darkness, chilling him to the bone.

“Come in, Zach.” The intruder moved slightly in the corner. The folds of a long black cloak shifted around him. His features were hidden beneath a heavy cowl. “I believe that you and I have some business to transact.”

Visions of the legions of husbands he’d cuckolded over the years blazed in his brain. Had one of them learned the truth and taken the trouble to hunt him down?

“I..." He swallowed and tried again. “I don’t understand. Who are you?”

“You do not need to know my name before you sell me the information you possess.” The man laughed softly. “In fact, it will be infinitely safer for you if you do not learn my identity.”

A glimmer of hope leapt within him. “Information?”

“I understand that you have recently left the employ of the Tiffin mansion,” the man said. “I will pay you well if you can tell me anything of interest concerning that household.”

The cultured, well-educated voice marked the intruder as a gentleman. The last of Zach’s anxiety evaporated. Euphoria took its place. He had learned the hard way over the years that the men who moved in the elevated circles of Society were no more to be trusted than those who lived in the stews, but there was one significant difference between the two groups: The men of the ton had money to spend and were willing to pay for what they wanted.

His fortunes had turned yet again, Zach thought. He sauntered into the room, smiling the smile that had always turned heads. He made certain that he stood within the circle of light provided by the candle so that the man in the cloak could see his handsome features.

“You're in luck, sir,” he said. “I do, indeed, have some interesting information to sell. Shall we discuss the terms of our bargain?”

“If the information is of use to me, you may name your price.”

The words were music to Zach’s ears.

“In my experience, gentlemen only say that sort of thing when they are pursuing women or vengeance.” He chuckled. “In this case, I expect it’s the latter, eh? No sane man would go to such lengths to get his hands on an irritating female like Miss Josephine Langford. Well, sir, if it’s revenge against Hero Fiennes Tiffin you're after, I’m more than happy to help you.”

The intruder said nothing in response, but his very stillness renewed a measure of Zach’s nervousness.

It did not surprise him to learn that Tiffin had such a determined and relentless enemy. Men as wealthy and powerful as the earl always managed to annoy a few people. But whatever the intruder’s reasons might be, Zach had no intention of inquiring into them. He had survived in the households of Society all these years because he had learned the fine art of discretion. Take, for example, the way he had been very careful not to let Tiffin know that he was aware of the inquiries the earl was making into his uncle’s murder.