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She smiled and reached to pat his hand which rested on his knee. “I knew I could reason with you.” She stood. “I will see you at dinner.”
“Yes,” he replied curtly. As soon as she left the room, he stood and paced. He had to do something about his body’s reaction to Elizabeth which did not involve touching her. He would never do that again.
Lady Irene revealing that she climbed trees and harvested honey without protection had not discouraged him. He could still marry her and mold her into the marchioness he needed. Perhaps he should move their courtship forward, so he could marry her sooner.
* * *
The following morning, Rhys was having breakfast alone in the morning room when his butler, Smith, walked in with a missive atop a small silver tray.
“This just arrived for you, My Lord,” Smith said as he presented him with the missive. “The boy who delivered it said that it is a very urgent message.”
Rhys set his teacup down and picked up the letter, opening it with a frown, and asking himself what could be very urgent this early in the morning. He immediately recognized William the Hammer’s penmanship even though it appeared as though William had written in haste.
Meet me at Harper’s Pub in Old Ford as soon as your read this. It is urgent, and perhaps my life and your fortune depend upon it. —W. H.
My lifeandyourfortune had been underlined, and every muscle in Rhys’ body tensed. He sent his chair clattering to the ground when he rose. His grandmother was walking into the room as he was leaving, and he only nodded in her direction before hurrying out.
“Guildford!” she called after him, but he ignored her.
He decided to ride a horse to Old Ford instead of the carriage, and he arrived sooner than he expected. The pub was nearly empty when he walked in, but a large man sitting at a table in a corner immediately caught his attention, and he walked up to him.
“You are late,” William said gruffly, a tankard between his hands. Rhys frowned, noticing the dark bruise on the fighter’s cheekbone.
“What happened?” Rhys asked, referring to both the bruise and the reason he had called him here.
William reached into his coat pocket as Rhys sat across from him. He pulled out two balls of rumpled paper and rolled them across the table toward Rhys. “Read, then I will explain.”
Rhys regarded William for a moment before straightening the rumpled papers. His eyes narrowed as he tried to read the barely legible scrawl:
He who stains his hands with blood shall be judged, and he who receives from the bloody hands shall have the devil in their shadow.
“What is this?” Rhys asked, both puzzled and annoyed by what he had read.
“Read the second,” William said, taking a swig of ale.
Retire, Hammer, or the crimes you and your lord have hidden will be made public. You have stayed in glory long enough. It is time to leave the house, my friend.
Rhys’ blood was violently coursing through his veins now. He slowly looked up at William, his teeth clenched, and asked in a low growl, “Who sent this?”
“I do not know,” William replied before finishing his ale in one large gulp. He looked around the empty pub before he leaned close. “Someone has been following me for the past four days. At first, it was footsteps behind me, and every time I turned around, I saw nothing. I thought I was drinking too much, but then I began to see a man. Last night, he followed me, and I decided to face him. He gave me this.” William pointed at his cheekbone.
“What does he look like?” Rhys asked.
“He is tall, large of frame, quite like you. He wears a dark cloak, and the face beneath was covered when I saw him.”
“How did he give you that?” Rhys pointed at William’s bruise with his chin.
William cursed. “I do not know how he did it…he wrestled me to the ground…I mean, look at the damned size of me!” William cursed again in outraged disbelief. “He planted me a facer once I was on my back.”
William had the right to be outraged. No one had ever been able to knock him to the ground in all the years he had been a pugilist. Rhys wondered who this prowler was, but what was more disturbing was how he knew what Rhys had covered.
“He knows about your father’s deeds,” William said. “He knows you.”
“I will investigate this matter,” Rhys assured him. “Do not worry.”
This issue bothered him throughout the day, but he was glad when evening came, and he went to Winston House to honor an invitation to the opera. He wanted the diversion and also to see Elizabeth, which surprised him because he was not supposed to be eager to see her.
As the butler collected Rhys’ greatcoat and hat, he heard a soft laugh stream into the front hall, and he moved in the direction of the sound before the butler could show him where to wait for the ladies.
