A Rogue About Town (London League, Book 2)

by Rebecca Connolly

  Or close to it, at least.

  “Good, you’re awake.”

  Amelia stopped scanning the room and slowly brought her eyes to a man standing in the shadows next to the only door.

  She knew that voice.

  “You,” she croaked, her stomach and her throat clenching in unison.

  Gabe stepped forward into the light, his eyes steady on hers. “Hello, Amelia.”

  She ground her teeth at the sight of him, obviously unmoved by her situation, and only the sight of bruising just under his right eye made her feel any better.

  “That looks like it hurts,” she said with a snarl.

  His expression didn’t change. “I’ve had worse.”

  She didn’t doubt that, but it still gave her satisfaction that she’d inflicted pain upon him.

  “What did you give me?” she groaned, craning her neck as her head throbbed.

  “Opium.”

  She glared at him as much as she was able. “I had figured that for myself, thank you.”

  His mouth tightened into an almost-smile. “Laudanum. In your gin. I paid the maid to do so.”

  “Lovely,” she muttered, wishing she knew a foul enough curse for that. She straightened as much as she was able and tried to look superior despite her ropes. “Would you care to explain to me why I am here in this building with these ropes restraining me?”

  Gabe folded his arms, his gaze never wavering. “I found your father.”

  There was no air in the room or in her lungs, and nothing else he could have said would have taken her fury at Gabe to an entirely different level. “You… you kept investigating?”

  He nodded once.

  “Even when I told you not to?” she asked, her voice rising in pitch. “I told you the contract was done!”

  “Yes, well,” he replied easily, not at all concerned with her distress, “I have never reacted well to orders or commands.”

  She jerked her gaze away, wishing it did not hurt her so much to see him, to hear his cynicism on full display once more.

  Her father… He had found her father…

  He had.

  Not her.

  She raised her eyes to his with all the obstinacy she could muster. “So, if you have found my father, as you claim, why am I sitting here tied to a chair instead of going after him?”

  “Because I know him.”

  Amelia stared at him for a long moment, his words echoing through her mind with every beat of her heart. He wasn’t saying that he knew who he was. He knew her father.

  “You lying piece of filth,” she spat, tugging at her restraints. “How long have you known who he was? The entire time? Have you been mocking me since the beginning?”

  He was shaking his head slowly before she finished. “No, Amelia, I’ve only known for a day. I give you my word.”

  “Your word,” she repeated with a snort. “What is your word worth?”

  “About two pennies.”

  She ignored his impertinence. “Tell me who he is.”

  “No.”

  She barely avoided growling. “Let me out of here,” she demanded, pulling against the ropes again.

  He shook his head. “No, Amelia.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know you,” he said calmly. “You’ll vanish and try to find him on your own, and I can’t let you do that.”

  “Why not?” she asked again, glaring at him despite her pounding head. “Why the hell can’t I find my own father and finish this?”

  Gabe didn’t answer for a long moment. He just watched her, expression unreadable. “Because the man that is your father is a man I respect and admire greatly.”

  “You traitor!” she barked, straining against her ropes. “You lying, cheating…”

  “And he is more of a father to me than any man on this planet,” Gabe continued, overriding her, “and I cannot let you hurt him.”

  Amelia was seething, her breathing short and unsteady, and her vision was beginning to blur at the edges. “Then why am I here at all?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  He went to the door and knocked softly. “Because you deserve to know.”

  The door swung open, and an older man with silver hair and a dark brow stepped through. He was taller than Gabe, but they were dressed similarly in their plain linen shirts and simple waistcoats, and they shook hands as the older man entered.

  “Rogue,” he said quietly, his voice deeper and more cultured than Amelia would have expected.

  “Eagle,” Gabe replied with a nod, stepping back.

  The man turned to face her, and Amelia took a good, hard look at him.

  His face was lined, and there were a few small scars there. His eyes were dark and hooded, thanks in part to his heavy brow, which was currently furrowed as he surveyed her. Unfortunately, Amelia could see a resemblance between them, and that angered her almost as much as Gabe’s betrayal.

  Her father stared at her, not saying a word, and she saw his throat work several times on a swallow. “You look so much like your mother,” he told her, his low voice somehow lower and choked with emotion.

  Amelia didn’t want to hear anything about her mother from this man, but she couldn’t manage to unclench her teeth long enough to give any answer at all.

  “Why is she tied up?” he suddenly asked, as if only just realizing she was bound. “Untie her.”

  Gabe shook his head. “No.”

  The man whirled to face him. “Untie her now!”

  “No,” he said again, continuing to shake his head.

  “Why not?” Amelia and her father demanded at the same time, the inflections nearly identical.

  Gabe fought a smile, which Amelia did not appreciate at all, but then he was back to being somber. “Because until I have Amelia’s word of honor that she will not try to attack you, sir, I’m not inclined to give her enough freedom to sneeze.” He looked at her with a raised brow, daring her to comment.

  She gaped at him for a moment, wondering how she had ever thought herself in love with him. He was the most irritating, insufferable, and infuriating man she had ever met, and she could not bear to look at him.

  Except she had to.

  “Honor,” she snorted. “What do you know of honor?”

  His gaze intensified on her. “Not a damn thing,” he replied. “I’m asking for yours.”

  That caught her off-guard, and she found she did not have a response for him. She gnawed the inside of her lip for a moment, weighing her options. She did not have to agree to anything. He didn’t have to know that her honor only extended as far as her arm or that her knife was closer at hand than he would ever think. She didn’t have to kill the man now. She could do it any time after this.

  She clenched her teeth again and nodded just once.

  Gabe nodded in response and came over to her, flashing his own knife which seemed to appear from out of nowhere. He crouched to slash the ropes at her legs, then moved to her sides.

  “I hate you,” she hissed, turning her head to say it directly to his face.

  “I’ll have to live with that,” he replied as he worked at the ropes.

  She shook her head, ashamed of the tears that were beginning to form. “I don’t know how I ever trusted you. Or how I thought you had any honor at all.”

  He met her eyes then, and somehow, she had no idea if her words meant anything to him. “I warned you against both of those things. You should have known better.”

  “I wish I’d never met you. I don’t ever want to see you again,” Amelia managed, wishing her voice didn’t sound quite so emotional.

  Gabe smirked slightly as he turned to cut the ropes at her wrist. “Don’t worry. After this, you won’t.”

  The ropes at her wrists loosened, but before she could feel relief, Gabe’s fingers suddenly gripped the small handle of the knife she had tucked into her corset at the neckline. She stiffened as he drew it out and dangled it before her eyes.

  “I know you, Amelia,” he murm
ured too close to her ear. “And you won’t get the chance.” He straightened up and tossed the knife into a far corner of the room as he strode from it, not looking back at either of them as he closed the door.

  Amelia stared at the door for a long moment, then shifted her gaze to the man dragging a chair over to sit in front of her, still a safe enough distance away. He sat down in the chair and leaned his elbows on his thighs, staring at her without a word.

  She stared back without speaking. He had much to answer for. She did not.

  “You undoubtedly have many questions for me,” he said at last, having the good sense not to smile.

  Amelia folded her arms and barely avoided rolling her eyes. “You could say that.”

  Her clipped tone apparently had no effect on him, and he nodded slowly. “You may ask me anything you like, Amelia.” He smiled a little, and she was bothered by the fact that it was a kind smile. “I will tell you whatever you wish to know.”

  Well, that was hardly an opportunity she would give up, particularly since she would like answers before she killed the man.

  “We could start with your name,” she said with a sneer, “and where the hell you’ve been my entire life.”

  “My name is James Martin,” he replied in his cultured tones. “Or at least it is now. I was born Daniel Cole.”

  Amelia raised her brows in an attempt at surprise. “So, your marriage to my mother was legitimate.”

  He nodded with a smile. “In every way. I insisted. My superiors were less than pleased.”

  “In the merchant company?”

  He grinned rather proudly. “You did do the thing properly, didn’t you?”

  “I do try,” she replied. “Though I had help.”

  James nodded his head, still smiling. “No, not with the merchant company. I did work for Dawes & Pope for a time, but it was a cover. You see, Amelia, I am a spy.”

  Amelia blinked at him in confusion. “A spy?”

  Again came his slow nod. “For the Crown. Normally, I don’t tell people that so early in our association, but I need you to understand, and I don’t want to hide anything from you.”

  She hadn’t expected that, and she couldn’t deny that it had taken some of her indignation away in favor of curiosity. Not entirely, granted, but enough that she didn’t have to restrain herself from striking him.

  “So, Gabe and Rook and Gent and Cap…” she said slowly, sitting back a little.

  He gave her a tight smile. “You’d better draw your own conclusions there, Amelia. I can reveal my own status, and that is all.”

  She supposed it didn’t matter when it all came down to it, but it would certainly explain a lot; their street names, their secrecy, how Gabe could easily pass as both Lord Wharton and as the Rogue when either was called for. She could easily see the connection, and she could understand why she had not been given such information.

  “Why would you trust me with that knowledge?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Knowing I would be less than pleased to meet you, why?”

  James’ smile grew genuine once more. “Because you are your mother’s daughter, Amelia, and trust and honor are innate in you.”

  At the mention of her mother in such warm tones, Amelia’s eyes began to burn. “Did you love her?” she asked, before she could think of something else.

  He looked surprised by the question, and then she saw him swallow. “Yes,” he answered hoarsely, nodding, “Very much. She was the light of my life. I had never known a woman like her, with her spirit and character, and I never have since. She brought purpose to my life, and I hadn’t known I was missing it.”

  Amelia found swallowing rather difficult in the face of his emotions. “Did she know?”

  “She knew,” he admitted, rubbing his hands together absently. “She would never have actually married a criminal, no matter what her father thought. Mary was far too clever for that, and she would have had my head.”

  That made Amelia chuckle against her will, and she stopped herself at once. She faced the older man squarely and remembered every painful moment of her mother’s life, and hers. “If you loved her so much, why were you gone? We suffered so much, she endured so much, and she died calling for you!”

  James groaned and clutched at his hair, his frame shaking. “Lord, forgive me my sins…” he moaned in agony.

  “I doubt it works that quickly,” Amelia muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

  He looked back up at her without a hint of recrimination. “We were betrayed by one in our ranks. Covers were exposed, and all operatives in the field had to go into hiding immediately. I was in France at the time, and one of my colleagues was keeping an eye on you and your mother. When we were in danger, all families of the operatives had to be moved and had their names changed. There weren’t that many with families at the time, but I was one of them.”

  “You weren’t in hiding forever,” Amelia pointed out, forgetting to insert anger into her words. “What happened?”

  “My colleague died,” James said with a weary sigh, showing his age for the first time. “We were so worried about what information had been compromised that nothing was documented, and most of our records were destroyed. When I came back to England, I could not find you or your mother. I had no record of your location or your names, and no one knew what had happened to you.” He shook his head, his eyes gentle. “I looked for you for years. I would never have given up if there was the slightest hint that you might be alive.”

  Amelia felt a tear trickle down her cheek, and she swiped it away. “I hated you,” she whispered. “I didn’t understand why I didn’t have you around, why we had to live the way we did. I blamed you…”

  “I blame myself,” he assured her with a soft interruption. “I will blame myself for the rest of my life. I can explain circumstances and situations for eternity, Amelia, but it will not change the fact that I should have been there. I know it, and you know it.”

  She nodded, the tightness in her chest easing ever so slightly. “What do you want, James?”

  One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “A chance. That’s all. I want to get to know the daughter I only knew a short while. I want you to have a chance to know me. I won’t tempt fate with my further wishes than that, because I have much to make up for. But you have a father, Amelia, and I hope that one day you will be able to see me that way.”

  Impossibly, she wanted to believe him. She was angry with him, she wasn’t sure she believed everything he said, but she believed his emotions, and she could see his genuine concern. She would find it very hard to kill this man sitting before her, now that she knew him and had listened to his side of the story.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to even injure him, let alone claim her vengeance. But further than that, she would not speculate on.

  A chance to have a father? Was it too late for such a thing?

  She didn’t know. But if he was willing to try…

  “Very well,” she heard herself say as if from a distance. “A chance it is.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "What do you mean he’s gone?”

  “Amelia…”

  “No, don’t you ‘Amelia’ me, James.” She winced and shook her head. “Sorry. Father.”

  Her father chuckled and waved it off. “It’s fine, Amelia. You may call me whatever suits you.”

  “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I might call you something else,” she muttered under her breath.

  He laughed again and came around his desk towards her. “Amelia, he is not gone forever. He’s only working, and it may take some time.”

  “Working,” she repeated, pleased that she didn’t cringe when he put a hand on her arm.

  It hadn’t been easy, but the last two weeks had been eye-opening. Her father appeared to be everything she’d ever wanted her father to be, though it was so many years late. Their relationship had become something she was beginning to enjoy. He was witty, he was considerate, he listened with ear
nestness, and he had a fighting ring in the cellar where he trained daily. He preferred staffs, which Amelia had not understood until he’d shown her.

  Now she trained with him every day.

  He’d asked her to move into his townhouse, and she had yet to do so, but she was considering it. And not just for the training ring.

  As odd as it sounded, and odder to feel, she trusted him. More than that, she liked him.

  She hadn’t told him yet, but she was also considering changing her last name to his. He was ready to claim her officially, he’d told her that much, and initially, she hadn’t thought anything of it. But now…

  She shook herself out of her reverie and tilted her head at her father. “Working as in…”

  He smiled gently. “You know I can’t tell you.”

  Amelia glowered, which made him chuckle again. “You know, a real father would tell his daughter what she wanted to know.”

  He patted her arm and winked. “Forgive me. I haven’t been a father very long; five months when you were an infant plus the past two weeks. Don’t worry. I am sure I will figure it out with practice.”

  She smirked playfully and turned from the room. “I’m going out.”

  “Take a servant.”

  She looked over her shoulder with a sardonic grin. “Why? You’re having me followed anyway.”

  He waved her off, smiling in amusement.

  Amelia let her smile fade as she went out, grateful her father lived in Cheapside instead of Mayfair. He had plenty of funds to do so, but he preferred the simpler lifestyle, and she was far more comfortable there herself. She would never have enjoyed moving into high Society after everything she had been through.

  But even with all of that, she was anxious to see Gabe again. To apologize, to explain, to find out if… well, she couldn’t hope that he would forgive her, she doubted he was the forgiving kind, even for her. Especially for her, given all that she had said and done. But she had to try.

  If nothing else, she needed to see his face once more.

  Two weeks and not a sight of him. Of any of them. Amelia was positive her father was their superior, but he adamantly refused to tell her anything about it. She’d been down to the offices several times, but Gabe was never there. The only thing anyone would say was that he was on assignment, whatever that meant, and that he would be back whenever he finished.