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He nodded, hating the idea of leaving her, even in Mrs. Morris’s capable hands.
But the thought of that fear he’d seen in her features, the horror that had filled her eyes—he turned and left the room with a curse.
There was little he could do for her now. She’d be in better hands with Mrs. Morris and the other servants. Which left him free to see to her vengeance.
The earl. The thought of the older man with the cruel sneer and the ice-cold voice—a rage he’d thought he’d never feel again had him heading back the way he’d come.
King was expecting him, that much was clear by the arched brows as he leaned back in his high-backed chair behind his massive oak desk. Tracker was waiting too. To his surprise even the General was there, smoking a pipe in the corner, as at ease here in a criminal’s lair as he would have been in a drawing room.
The General gave him a short nod when Dane looked his way. “How’s your girl?”
Your girl.The words made his insides twist and turn in a mix of raw emotions that were best left for another day.
Shewashis...and she wasn’t.
She couldn’t be his in the way he wanted. But she was still his to protect, to care for. “Thanks for getting her to me,” he said to the older man who’s dark hair was turning gray at the temples.
“She’s a proper one,” the General said. He arched a brow. “She looked familiar.”
He grunted in acknowledgement and Tracker’s keen gaze and King’s hardened stare fell on him with expectation.
He had little reason to keep it from them, since they all knew who she was. They just didn’t know how she’d come to be here. Or why.
“She’s been wronged,” he said. Anger burned in the pit of his stomach but he refused to allow it to seep into his voice. “I will avenge her.”
King’s brows didn’t twitch. He knew Dane well enough to know he wasn’t asking for permission, nor was he seeking advice. “What do you need from us?”
Dane’s shoulders straightened, a surge of gratitude easing some of the frustration that had been eating him alive these past few days. “I won’t involve you.”
King scowled. “If someone hurts you or yours, it is my fight too.”
Dane tipped his head in acknowledgement. In thanks. “My fight’s with an earl.”
“The Earl of Fallenmore.” Tracker said the name slowly, like he was sorting through pieces of a puzzle.
“Do you know where he is?” Dane asked.
Tracker nodded, and Dane wasn’t surprised. Tracker had been keeping tabs on all the servants and the family members of all involved in Lillian’s life.
“He’s been holed up in his estate since she went missing. The son, too. Neither seemed to know where she’d gone, but the servants said they’d been fighting amongst themselves.”
He gave a huff of acknowledgement. Back when he’d lived amongst them, Malcolm had tried his best to please the old man, but nothing could appease a man like the earl. Nothing Malcolm had done was good enough, but because he was the heir he was spared the beatings.
Instead he’d gotten the old man’s icy hostility, his disdain and his rebukes.
If Malcolm had grown into a man with any spine whatsoever, Dane could only imagine the sort of fights that occurred in that miserable excuse for a home. He’d hoped for Lillian’s sake that Malcolm had grown up to be a better man than his father. But if his half-brother hadn’t been capable of keeping Lillian safe, then he didn’t deserve her.
No one truly deserved her, but she ought to at least be with someone who could keep her safe.
Like you, Beast?A voice taunted him. It was the earl’s voice, a voice he hadn’t heard in an age but which he knew as well as his own.
No, not him. Of course not Dane. She deserved better than all of them, but he’d figure out where to keep her and the babe safe, and he’d provide for her every need. He’d find her a place in the country—she’d always liked the country. He’d hire guards to protect her and servants to make sure she was looked after and—
“You mean to kill an earl in cold blood?” The General didn’t sound horrified so much as...intrigued.
King too was nodding in approval. “I’ve never backed down from a fight. Not even with some stuffed-shirt toff.”
A lazy smile tilted up one corner of Tracker’s mouth. “I’m up for it.”
