Page 59 of When the Duke Met His Match

Odette sighed and looked around nervously, afraid of spotting anyone else in the alleyway. Surely they would know better than to get involved, but more so, she didn’t want to find any of the French rebels leering nearby.

“What do you know about the king?” Theophilus demanded of him, voice sharp with his conviction.

“Nothing! I don’t know anything at all,” he muttered, sounding more distressed in his drunken stupor.

Theophilus gripped the man’s shoulders harder and shoved him into the wall, only for the informant to let out a strangled breath. “Tell me!”

Infuriation radiated from Theophilus’ tense body, clearly frustrated by the man’s unwillingness to cooperate. While she knew they needed to get the information from him one way or another, Odette didn’t want him to take it too far.

Theophilus grabbed the stranger’s hood and pushed it back, revealing a face caked in dirt and grime. Even his hair was full of dust and grease, as if he hadn’t bathed in days.

She could smell the rancid odor from where she stood, and she tried not to react.

It was difficult to distinguish his face from the obstruction of filth, but she assumed he was merely a poor man who didn’t have any other option but to resort to giving away information to assist in assassinations.

Raising his fist to threaten the man, Theophilus looked deeply into his face. “You have one last chance to tell me what information you gave them.”

The drunkard squeezed his eyes shut at the threat, murmuring to himself about needing mercy and salvation until his face relaxed again, and he peered up at Theophilus. He went eerily still, blinking at him like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Theophilus? Theophilus Clough?”

At the mention of his name, Theophilus relaxed his fist and loosened his grip. The man was able to stand properly on his own again while that same recognition was shared between them.

While neither of them looked too worried, Odette felt a chill run down her back. The man knew his name, which didn’t seem like an ideal circumstance. Yet, both men stayed where they were in clear disbelief.

Theophilus stepped back and swallowed hard. “Eric? Is that you?”

The shock in his voice was palpable, but Odette’s mind was still racing to try and catch up. She looked between them, unable to find the right words.

The man named Eric staggered on his unsteady legs as a hazy grin spread across his cheeks. With his knees almost giving way, Theophilus quickly caught him and held him up.

Eric chuckled and leaned against him. His eyes were heavily lidded. “Long time no see.”

Theophilus threw a glance in her direction in motioned toward Eric. “Odette, help me take him inside. He can’t be out here in this cold.”

Nodding despite her uncertainty, she went to his side and offered her shoulder to him. Together, they helped guide Eric around the pub and back through the front door. His movements were still uncalculated and sloppy, yet they managed to plunk him into one of the chairs at the table they had before.

“That’s better,” Eric murmured.

“Back for more?” the server asked, taking in the three of them oddly.

While Odette could imagine the woman saw her fair share of interesting characters, she wasn’t sure what she would think of their ragtag group, especially since they hadn’t been with Eric earlier, and he was incredibly intoxicated.

"Even if ye ask, I'm nae sure servin' this one another drink would be wise," she murmured, meeting Odette’s eyes in question.

“A coffee would be fine,” Theophilus interjected with a smile. “Thank you.”

The server’s gaze lingered, surely amused by whatever was unfolding in front of her. Odette recalled what the woman had previously said about manners and assumed that was the cause of her hushed laughter. "Yer lot are pure bampots, but I'll get yer coffee sorted right away."

They nodded toward her before returning their attention to Eric, whose head was lowered to rest against the tabletop.

Odette exchanged a look with Theophilus, but he only shrugged.

Before long, the coffee arrived steaming in a mug, and Eric lifted his head long enough to sip from it. Eventually, he seemed to sober up enough to conduct himself properly. He shared a glance with her companion and chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“After all these years.”

Theophilus’ guarded expression cracked, and he put an arm around Eric and clapped his shoulder. “I apologize for being rough before. I couldn’t tell who you were through all that dirt.”