Page 46

“I’m not certain, but it would seem so.”

“So we are going to help Piers arrest him?” Gussie asked eagerly. “Hand him over to the law?”

At last, unease pierced his single-minded determination. “Well, I am. You should most definitely not be here with me, nor anywhere near a bachelor’s rooms! How did you get the hackney?”

“It had just dropped someone off, so I jumped in. Otherwise, I would have run.”

At this point the hackney drew up outside Cauldwell’s rooms on Piccadilly, and Haggs was distracted by the obvious Bow Street runner lurking outside the front door.

“It seems Withy’s already brought reinforcements,” he murmured. “Wait here, Gussie...”

He should have known she would not.

The runner guarding the front door, told Haggs his colleagues were inside the house and that he should not interfere.

“Is someone guarding the back door, too?” Haggs had asked.

The runner shifted his feet and scowled. “Not enough of us. I told Knott our man’s more likely to bolt out the back, but—”

“I could guard one door or the other,” Haggs suggested, eager to help.

The runner looked doubtful.

“Trust me,” Haggs said grimly. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to get my hands on this bastard.”

That was when he realized Gussie stood right beside him, nodding vigorously. While Haggs blushed in shame at his language, the runner, apparently convinced, had loped off to find his way to the back door.

“Gussie, please go back to the hackney.”

“No. But I will stand well back so you don’t need to worry I might get in your way.”

There wasn’t even any hurt or petulance in her voice. She simply moved a few feet away from him and stood by the railings. Haggs fell in love all over again. Right before the front door flew open and Cauldwell skidded to a halt on the step.

Haggs never questioned his guilt. If he had, no doubt the sight of two more runners plus Piers and April, clattering down the stairs in pursuit, would have convinced him. Instead, rare anger overtook him.

And instead of screaming or fainting, Gussie applauded him.

God, she was wonderful.

But then the runners were hauling Cauldwell off to their own vehicle waiting nearby, and Piers stood on the front step, as distantly elegant as he had ever been since he had first become the viscount. Apart from his lack of quizzing glasses.

Those vague, dark eyes which had never been anything other than clever, locked with his, and Withy flung out his hand, his rare smile erupting.

“Haggs. I shouldn’t even be surprised.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Haggs said, gripping his friend’s hand hard. “Is everything well?”

“Oh yes,” Piers said with certainty.

Because April stood beside him. She gave Haggs a quick smile of reassurance. She looked so tired. She must have been so near breaking point, and yet there she stood beside him once more.

Gussie flew past him, hugging her cousin fiercely. “Thank God, Piers. Thank God.”

Her enthusiasm seemed to startle Piers, who took an instant to hug her back. Then she freed herself so quickly that only Haggs glimpsed the suspicious tears glistening on her lashes.

“Take our hackney,” she instructed. “Sir Peter will escort me home.”

Withy hesitated, then glanced at his exhausted wife. “Thank you. We can talk tomorrow, if you like. We need to get back to our small tyrant.”