“It is,” his friend assured him.
And yet all Evander could think about was Olivia—her blush, her silence, and the answer he hadn’t been allowed to hear.
Evander led Warwicke into the study, closing the door behind them with a soft click.The early morning light streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the carpet. He turned to face his friend, still a bit weary from the restless night before. “What is so important that it couldn’t wait until a more civilized hour?”
Warwicke’s expression was grave—far more so than usual. “I looked into Lord Luca Dexter, as you suggested. And I discovered something… troubling.”
Now Warwicke had his full attention. He straightened, every muscle in his body coiled with tension. “What did you discover?”
“I attended a meeting of the reformers last night,” Warwicke said. “He was there. Slipped in after it started and stood at the back. But there was no mistaking him.”
A curse hovered on Evander’s lips, but he swallowed it. “Did he see you?”
Warwicke shook his head. “I don’t believe so, though I can’t be certain.”
Evander exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “So it’s him, then. Lord Luca is the one behind the threats.”
“It could be.”
“Could be?” Evander’s voice sharpened. “Who else would it be?”
Warwicke gave him a pointed look. “We shouldn’t leap to conclusions. But now that we’ve placed him near the reformers, I’ll dig further. See what else he’s hiding.”
Evander crossed the room to the drink cart, tempted to pour something strong to steady his nerves. He reached for the decanter and asked, “Would you care for something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I need a clear head.”
With a nod, Evander set the decanter back down, the crystal clinking softly against the tray. He turned, leaning one hand on the edge of the cart. “What do we do now?”
Warwicke didn’t hesitate. “You stay here at your townhouse. Hire more guards. Keep Olivia and your father close. At least until we know more.”
Evander gave a short, humorless laugh. “That will be easier said than done. My father is at the House of Lords today. He refuses to be cowed. Says silence only encourages tyranny.”
“Foolish pride,” Warwicke muttered. “It’ll get him—or you—killed.”
Evander walked slowly to the leather armchair and sank into it, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on his shoulders. “Even if Lord Luca is involved, how do we make the threats stop?”
A faint smirk played across Warwicke’s lips. “Leave that to me.”
Evander’s brows lifted. “What exactly does that mean?”
“It means I can be very persuasive when I need to be,” Warwicke said lightly, but his eyes were hard.
Evander met his gaze and gave a slow nod. There was steel beneath his friend’s charm—danger, even. “I trust you.”
“Good.” Warwicke crossed the room and sat opposite him. “I saw Lord Harwood leaving your townhouse earlier. What did he want?”
Evander’s jaw tightened at the mention. “He wants to buy the indigo plantation.”
Warwicke’s brow rose. “Interesting.”
“He claims it’s just business. Says combining our plantations would increase the value when he sells.”
“That’s what he told you?”
Evander nodded, though unease was starting to prickle at the back of his neck. “Yes. Why?”
“Did he mention who the buyer was?”
