The laughter echoing out was harsh and brittle. “I’m not going to reveal myself to someone I don’t trust. Leave the photographs. You’ve taken a huge risk, Lancaster, bringing him here. Makes me question our trust in you. If you continue to work with him, I’ll share no further information with you. You’ll be on your own.”
For all of a heartbeat, she considered defending her actions but had learned years ago that defending herself did nothing more than increasethe suspicions and break her heart. No one listened, no one wanted to listen. Changing minds required deeds, not words, even when those efforts put one’s life in grave danger. “That is your prerogative, O. My assignment is to assist you, and I shall continue in that endeavor. If we discover anything of significance, I’ll let you know.”
With that, she marched over to the familiar rickety table, tossed the packet on it, and spun about, heading back the way they’d come. She snatched the torch from the sconce—
Froze as Stanwick’s hand, half covering hers, closed around the handle and gave a little tug. She released her hold, relinquishing the torch to his keeping. With no sign of mocking her in his expression—instead she thought she detected a bit of respect, although perhaps that was merely wishful thinking on her part—he gave a small bow, indicating she should lead them out.
She hurried forward, wondering if it was possible to outpace her racing heart, her wild thoughts screaming inside her head, begging her to explain what the devil she was doing, trusting a man she barely knew, a man who made her long for things she was never destined to possess.
“He seemed like a bit of an arse to me,” Marcus said wryly.
She’d had her coach waiting for them a few streets away, and sitting across from her now, he wondered if anyone knew the entirety of her.
“He didn’t appear to find you much to his liking.”
“The feeling is mutual. Who is he exactly?”
“As you can imagine in this line of work, the less you know about your colleagues, the better. We’re a mysterious lot, even to each other for the most part. So when I was given this assignment, the Home Secretary introduced him only as Oglethorpe. I’ve heard some refer to him as Ogre—no doubt because of his uncompromising temperament and, unkindly, because of his appearance. Had he stepped out of the shadows, you’d have seen that he is somewhat hunchbacked.”
Based on Marcus’s encounter with the man, he found Ogre fitting based on his personality alone but considered it very telling that she referred to him as O rather than a moniker that better suited him. Apparently, she didn’t engage in any bullylike tendencies although last night had proven she had the skills to torment whomever she wanted. “He gave the impression he considered himself your superior.”
“Ours is a strange coupling. The responsibility for ensuring this plot fails rests on his shoulders. I am to assist, but I also go my own way, search for my own clues. Investigate what I find suspicious. I’m surprised that my association with you angered him to such a degree that he would cut me loose, but he may have only been looking for an excuse. We often butt heads.”
“I think perhaps you’re underestimating yourworth. I’d wager he’s jealous of your abilities, fears you’ll upstage him.”
“A compliment? Careful there. You’re going to make me blush.”
He would certainly like to, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, blush with heated passion. She wasn’t nearly as icy as she’d been in the beginning. Still, he felt she possessed more fire to be unleashed. “Will you let your superiors at the Home Office know what transpired between you and O tonight?”
“No. They may agree with him and decide to remove me from the case. I’ve devoted too much time to it. I want to see it through to its end.”
“So what is your plan now?”
“To get drunk.”
His bark of laughter echoed around him. Her flash of a smile captured in the passing streetlamps gave him a sense of near euphoria. How long had it been since he’d been... happy? Since the anger he’d clung to for so long swung beyond reach? “I’m serious.”
“As am I. It’s after midnight, too late to do hunting of any consequence with no goal in mind. My wound throbs—”
“Shall I kiss it again?”
“Behave yourself, Marcus Stanwick.” Her stern tone caused him to imagine her with a ruler on the verge of rapping his knuckles. “Your wound was more extensive. It has to be bothering you.”
“I’ve learned to ignore the aches and pains that now intrude upon my life.”
“Based upon what I read of you in the gossip rags, you have turned out to be not at all the carefree and somewhat fragile creature I expected.”
“I was given no choice in the matter.”
“On the contrary. As I’ve mentioned before, you could have taken your life in a different direction, found gainful employment somewhere.”
“I was raised to believe work was beneath me.”
“But skulking about in the shadows isn’t?”
He had come to prefer them to the light that always had shone upon him. “I have found I’m more at home in the shadows.”
“They are good for hiding in.”
