A feeling of foreboding had arrived with the morning, and she hadn’t been able to shake it. Thomas’s efforts to follow Sir Alexander held risk. She’d watched the ballroom entrance closely the previous evening and noted that Thomas had departed soon after Sir Alexander. Where they went or what had occurred remained a mystery. She had far too many of those in her life of late.
For all she knew, Thomas might’ve chosen to drink and gamble, something she knew he did—or used to do—on a regular basis. Just because they’d become betrothed didn’t mean she should expect him to change his behavior. As Lady Helen had reminded her, Thomas hadn’t earned his reputation without cause. The thought hurt and had her turning to pace in the opposite direction.
She knew he wouldn’t be pleased that she’d come to the office this morning. His concern over her reputation was both heartwarming and maddening at the same time. But she’d taken the precaution of having her driver take a circuitous route, then watched closely to make certain no one appeared to observe her before alighting from the carriage.
Though part of her insisted such precautions were ridiculous, she remembered too well McConnelly’s description of the murder victims. Unfortunately, she could imagine it in vivid detail, because she’d already done so in the pages of her book.
What should she do if Thomas didn’t arrive soon? Have Mr. Bing send him a message? She didn’t dare call upon him herself. Such things simply weren’t done. Her mother would be appalled if she found out, and somehow, her mother always seemed to find out. If the message didn’t garner results, she’d call upon Caroline and Aberland and request help.
She paused before Mr. Bing’s desk. “Could you please—”
The click of the door opening caused her to break off the request, and she turned to face the entrance. Relief filled her as Thomas walked in only to pause at the sight of her.
“Miss Gold.” His eyes narrowed as if he was concerned about her presence. “Mr. Bing.”
“Good morning.” Annabelle’s hand tightened in a fist as she realized he was hurt. His bruised jaw was made all the more noticeable by the paleness of his skin. Lines bracketed his mouth and his face held a pinched look, suggesting he was in pain. She clamped her lips tight, not wanting to say anything in front of Bing. She had no idea whether Thomas trusted him or how much the man knew.
“Mr. Raybourne?” Bing rose slowly, frowning as his gaze lingered on Thomas’s jaw, the question in his expression and tone obvious.
Thomas ignored him and gestured for Annabelle to precede him into his office, closed the door, then set his top hat and gloves on the corner of his desk with stiff movements.
“What happened?” Annabelle asked as she drew near, the band around her chest squeezing as she studied his face, wondering what other injuries he might have.
He sighed, briefly touching the back of his head before lowering his hand to press against his side. “I received a warning.”
She gasped then quickly removed her gloves and set them beside his before reaching out to gently touch his jaw. “From whom?”
“I’m not sure. As I left the club last evening, two men insisted on making it clear that I heed their advice.”
“My goodness. Are you certain you’re all right?”
“Yes,” he said with a scowl. “My head caught the worst of it from a brick wall, though my ribs are complaining as well.”
“That’s terrible. Who were they?”
He started to shake his head only to grimace. “I don’t know. But they were sent by the East India Company.”
“I can hardly believe this.” Her thoughts spun at how much worse the outcome might’ve been. What if he’d been seriously injured? The idea made her entire being ache. “What exactly did they say?”
“Only to let matters be.” He offered a grim smile. “I believe that means we must be getting close enough to the truth that we’re making someone nervous.”
“Do you think this means Sir Alexander is involved?”
“At the very least, I’d guess that he knows what’s happening. Whether he was behind the warning remains to be seen, but it seems likely as I was accosted not far from White’s and soon after he left.”
She released a long breath. “All because my father and the Earl of Arlingwood don’t wish to sell. I hate to think people are dying because of who owns a business.”
“People have been killed for less.”
“I suppose that’s true. Love, financial gain, and rage are often the most common motives.”
His lips twisted in a wry smile. “I find it fascinating that you know such information.”
“My mother lives in fear that I’ll say such a thing at the wrong time. She discourages me from speaking about any of it, no matter how fascinating the research.” Annabelle couldn’t help but smooth the lapel of his suit coat. Warmth spread through her at the knowledge that he not only understood her but appreciated her unique knowledge, though it didn’t dispel her worry. “You’re certain you’re all right?”
“Nothing that won’t soon heal. But I appreciate your concern.” He covered her hand that rested on his chest with his own and the tightness inside her eased a little more.
“I’ve been wracking my mind, trying to think of something else we can do to find the murderer and bring this to an end.”
“As have I. I’m meeting with Aberland this afternoon. He’s going to your father’s dock this morning to speak with the manager and see if he’s overlooked any clues that would provide evidence involving East India.”
A knock on the door interrupted further conversation. Thomas released her and stepped back. “Enter.”
Mr. Bing opened the door. “A message arrived for you, sir.” He handed it to Thomas, his gaze lingering again on Thomas’s bruise.
“Thank you.” Thomas quickly read the contents as Bing closed the door. “Pickford, the man who attacked you and your father, has agreed to talk to me. Perhaps he has something to share that will prove helpful.”
“That’s interesting. When do we see him?”
“We do not. I don’t want you anywhere near the man. You’ll have to satisfy yourself with my report.”
Though not surprised, Annabelle had to protest. “Not only would I benefit from the research of such a meeting, I might also be able to offer additional insight into whatever the man says.”
“No.”
“But—”
Thomas held up a hand. “There’s no point in you offering any arguments. Nothing you say will sway me.” He drew close to press a finger against her parted lips. “Annabelle, I refuse to risk any harm befalling you.”
His whispered words along with his gentle touch shot through her, lessening her frustration and leaving her heart full. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d said that out of true feelings for her or merely a gentlemanly sense of honor. She dearly wanted to know.
“Very well. But I shall expect a full report with each and every detail as soon as possible.”
“I will commit them to memory.” His gaze dropped to her lips and her stomach dropped as well. All the way to her knees.
He leaned forward to press his mouth to hers, and her heart felt even fuller. Her feelings for this man were quickly growing, spreading to every corner of her world. She had no idea what to do about it or about the fact that she liked it.
~*~
Thomas walked along the pavement toward the prison, grateful for Aberland’s presence at his side. “I don’t believe I’m equipped for a life of intrigue,” Thomas muttered. His head hurt with each step he took.
He’d told the earl what had happened the previous evening, despite the wave of embarrassment that came over him. He was certain he should’ve done something differently during the confrontation. He’d hesitated, considering his options rather than acting. Somehow, he didn’t think the man at his side would’ve had the same outcome.
“I suggest from this point forward, you avoid being on any darkened streets alone.” Aberland held Thoma
s’s gaze. “I don’t wish to deliver news of your demise to Annabelle or your brothers.”
“Believe me. I feel the same.” Thomas cleared his throat, uncertain how to express his thanks for the earl’s presence.
“No doubt we’re being observed at this very moment.” Yet Aberland didn’t glance around.
“What do you suggest we do about that?”
Aberland smiled. “This will send the message that we don’t intend to end our quest.”
“Quest?” Thomas realized he liked the word. It had a noble ring to it.
“Indeed. And allow me to tell you that you do have a knack for such deeds.”
Thomas scoffed. “I fear I must disagree. A sick feeling of dread and general unease has accompanied me each time something has occurred. Obviously, I’m ill-suited for the role of hero.”
“Nonsense. If anyone tells you they weren’t fearful in a similar situation, they’re lying. You are honest enough to share your true feelings yet here you are, taking action despite the risk and your concern.” Aberland offered another smile. “And believe you me, there is risk. Anything involving the East India Company is not to be dismissed lightly.”
“No fear of me doing that.” Thomas adjusted his top hat. The injury to his head made wearing it highly uncomfortable. “Do you think Pickford is connected to the murders?”
Aberland considered the idea. “Perhaps. From what the dock manager said, he’d had the opportunity to see Sir Reginald on a previous visit but took no action. Could it have been Annabelle’s presence that forced him to act?”
Thomas had wondered the same. If that were true, did it have to do with her book or the fact that she’d been with him when they’d twice spoken with McConnelly? Had she been recognized despite the widow’s disguise? “I hope we will soon find out.”
The atmosphere around the prison was enough to cause Thomas to frown. “I’m pleased we can walk away from this place once our meeting is over.”
“It’s certainly dismal. I’ve called on others here and found it as depressing as it is today.”
Thomas was relieved to know he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
The process of stating their name and business as well as who they wished to see didn’t take overlong. Aberland’s presence was to thank for that.
Soon they were led down several dark corridors and past prisoners in cells. Some stared at them sullenly while others shouted foul language that would make a sailor blush.
“Charming lot, ain’t they?” the guard who accompanied them asked with a laugh.
“I’m pleased you find some humor in it,” Thomas said, his nose twitching at the awful smell.
The beefy man chuckled. “If I didn’t, they’d drive me insane. Here ye be.” He pointed toward a dimly lit cell.
“Thank you,” Aberland said with a nod.
“I’ll be just down the hallway if you need anything.”
Thomas studied the area behind the bars but no one was visible. Was anyone even in there? “Pickford?”
The scrape of a shoe on stone came from the dark depths of the cell and the same man Thomas had seen at the dock drew closer and gripped the iron bars.
“Mr. Raybourne.” Pickford squinted as if he found the small amount of daylight coming into the corridor from high narrow windows too bright. “Who’s this?” he asked as he glanced at Aberland.
“A friend.” Thomas had no intention of making introductions.
“I know you.” Pickford studied Aberland. “You’ve been at the dock several times.”
“Yes, I have.” Aberland took a step nearer. “We appreciate you answering a few questions for us.”
Pickford smiled but it wasn’t especially friendly. “I will only answer the ones of my choosing.”
“Why have you suddenly decided to be helpful?” Until they knew the answer to that, Thomas wasn’t certain they could believe anything he had to say.
“I’ve got my reasons.”
“Why don’t you start with the reason you attacked Sir Reginald at the dock?”
“I was just following orders to do what I could to cause problems.”
Unease crept over Thomas, a feeling he’d experienced far too often of late. “Orders from whom?”
Pickford leaned close, his dark eyes narrowing. “I didn’t kill anybody, despite what the police seem to think. All this talk of murder has nothing to do with me.”
“Why should we believe you?” Thomas asked.
“I was already in here when the second murder was committed.”
Thomas shared a look with Aberland. They’d already discussed that fact as well. “What about the first murder? Are you saying you didn’t kill that man?”
“I haven’t killed anyone.” The man’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the bars tighter.
“Who gave you the orders to hurt Sir Reginald?”
“They said it didn’t have to be him. Hurting one of his daughters would’ve been fine too.”
Both Aberland and Thomas stiffened at his words. “According to whom?” the earl asked.
Pickford’s lips twisted, suggesting he wasn’t certain about the wisdom of sharing the identity of his boss. “East India.”
“Who at East India?” Thomas leaned forward. “We need a name.”
“One of them is as good as another.” Pickford stepped back. “No purpose would be served by saying a name. The orders float down from the top. I only have the name of a man at the bottom. He received orders from someone else.”
Thomas could hardly contain the anger filling him. He wanted to reach through the bars and shake the man until he told them who it was. Instead, he leaned one shoulder against the cell door as if he had nothing better to do than chat. “Then surely telling us the name will matter little. No one need know it came from you.”
Aberland nodded as if to confirm to Pickford that was the truth.
The prisoner turned and stalked to the far side of the cell, hands on hips, to pause for a long moment before returning. “Grant.” He spoke the name so quietly that Thomas wasn’t certain he’d heard it properly. Then he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Do you have a first name?” Thomas asked. He couldn’t think of anyone he knew by that name. He raised a brow at Aberland, but from his expression, it didn’t seem as if he knew him either.
“I’ve said as much as I’m going to. Now you can find the murderer and prove he killed both people so I don’t hang for one.” Pickford briefly glanced at each of them before moving into the back of the cell where they couldn’t see him.
Thomas studied the shadows, wondering if there was any chance of convincing him to say more.
Aberland touched his shoulder then tipped his head, suggesting they leave.
Frustrated, Thomas turned to leave, only to hear Pickford call out. “Catch the murderer.”
He was already doing everything he could to do so, but he didn’t bother to reassure the prisoner of that.
~*~
Annabelle sighed in relief at the sound of the front door closing from where she waited in Caroline’s drawing room. Thomas and Aberland had returned from their trip to the prison.
Though she hadn’t expected anything untoward to occur during the visit, she was still pleased they were back. The thought of Thomas being hurt again was nothing she wanted to consider.
Caroline had left nearly half an hour ago to attend a garden party and hoped her husband would join her upon his return. Much to Annabelle’s surprise, Caroline, though concerned, seemed to be taking much of the situation in stride, her faith in her husband’s ability to protect her and himself unshakeable. Annabelle hadn’t mentioned the men who’d attacked Thomas. She’d leave Aberland to share that with her if he saw fit.
Annabelle rose from her chair and walked to the windows that overlooked the street. Much to her surprise, Aberland spoke with Thomas briefly then hopped into the carriage and departed while Thomas approached the front door.
Within a few
brief moments, Thomas walked into the drawing room. Annabelle couldn’t hold back a smile at the sight of him.
“How did things proceed?” she asked as she moved closer.
He scowled. “Not quite what we hoped. He wanted us to know he didn’t commit either of the murders.”
“I suppose that’s not a complete surprise.”
He joined her on the settee as he shared the rest of the conversation, including the name Pickford gave them.
“Grant. I don’t believe I know anyone by that name,” Annabelle said. “Is he someone with East India?”
“We assume so, though Pickford refused to give further details.”
She sighed. “Another clue to follow. How frustrating.”
“Indeed. Aberland is going to ask someone he knows who is with the Company, and I will do the same. Hopefully, someone will know him and provide us with additional information.”
“Excellent.” The bruise on his jaw drew her gaze. His face was still pale. “How do you feel?”
“Better now that I am no longer wearing a hat.” He reached back to gingerly touch the area. “Brick walls are even harder than they look.”
The warmth of his body alongside hers settled her concern. He placed his arm on the back of the sofa behind her, and she couldn’t help but lean back while they discussed what more could be done.
“At least the police continue to look for the killer. I am certain something will come from their investigation.”
“As do I.” He shifted to take her hand in his. “Annabelle, I hope you know that I will do all I can to see this through to the end.”
“I’m grateful for that and so is my family.” She smiled up at him.
The look in his eyes had her breath catching. When he leaned close and kissed her, she met him halfway, eager to experience everything he made her feel. The day had been filled with one wild emotion after another and being with him soothed them all.
When he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her closer, she returned his embrace, placing her arms along his broad shoulders.
He kissed her long and deep, their tongues meeting to lend an even greater intimacy. His hands swept along her body and need quickly filled her. The knowledge that her sister and brother-in-law were gone lessened any fear of being caught, though she worried one of the servants might interrupt them.
A Rogue No More (The Rogue Chronicles Book 3) Page 18