Page 54 of A Bluestocking’s Secret Courtship

He rocked back in the chair.

“I found his notes about them in his desk,” she said, rushing to explain what he already knew about the group.

Mercenaries.

They earned their name by slipping silently into an enemy camp and leaving destruction in their path.

Men and women warriors trained alongside each other from childhood.

Deadly. Precise.

What she didn’t seem to know was that the group wasn’t just a legend. They were real—and still active.

“If your uncle was worried about another antiquarian stealing his work, why leave his notes lying about?”

“I…” A furious blush spread across her cheeks. “He didn’t. I picked the lock to the drawer.”

He chuckled, not surprised in the least, especially after she bypassed the locks on Wedmore’s trunk.

“You’re not horrified?”

He shook his head. “I’m impressed once again.”

She laughed, ducking her chin shyly.

“Did your uncle write anything about someone trying to steal his research?”

“No, but he is clearly hiding something. Otherwise, his journal wouldn’t be in cipher. And I found a torn sheet with similar writing in the library at Wedmore House.” She lowered the quill, her hand shaking slightly. “A-and my brother-in-law tried to steal a map from my uncle.”

“Xavier Vistoire?”

She winced. “It isn’t what you think. He had no choice.”

Evangeline recounted how Xavier had been held captive when he was mistaken for a French spy. He was offered his freedom in exchange for sneaking into Wedmore House to retrieve a map leading to the Black Death.

“At least that is what we believe,” she said. “We never found it, but Lord Geoffrey was rattled enough to come after Regina and Xavier on their wedding night.”

Jonathan shook his head, still stuck on the part where Xavier was a thief. And Evangeline’s sister married him.

“It’s a lot to process,” she said. “Events transpired. Xavier wound up concussed. Blah, blah… They fell in love.”

He laughed outright. “You are not a fan of lyrical writing, are you?”

“I prefer getting to the point,” she said, laughing too.

When the moment passed, he asked, “Do you think Lord Geoffrey is still pursuing your uncle?”

“I doubt it. Let’s say he has shuffled off this mortal coil. See? I can be lyrical.”

“Touché! What happened to him?”

She shrugged. “He was murdered by a madman. You must wait for volume two to learn the details.”

“A story in fifty words or less, I presume.”

“You really do understand me.”

They shared a smile, hers fading before his.