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“Is that all?” Blake peered at his friend’s face. “Is that everything they say about the Shadows?”
Ford nodded with a bemused expression. “As far as I know.”
“You’ve never heard of any mark they wear on their body? Something that might identify them?”
“No.” Ford narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“I think that’s what their leader was looking for. And after he didn’t find it—whatever it was—he became angry that they got the wrong man and ordered me killed.” He shook his head, lost in memory. “He saw my signet ring while he performed the search. Perhaps that’s the part that got him angry. Whether he had been looking for something else, I do not know. But he realized I was an aristocrat and most likely decided that killing me would be better than demanding ransom. Capturing a peer is as much offense as killing one, so he doubtless thought it wise not to leave the witness around.”
“Didn’t work well for him, did it?”
Blake shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you anything about him if I wanted to. My only lead to him was what you call a myth, and if you’re right and it doesn’t exist….” He trailed off, staring gloomily into the void.
If he didn’t find the men responsible, they’d be bound to come after him again. And he was certain he wouldn’t slip through their fingers this time.
“Well, perhaps they don’t exist,” Ford answered thoughtfully. “But from what you’ve told me, there’s a criminal group that believes in their existence so much that they are willing to kill to find any clues about them.”
Blake leaned his hands on the desk and looked into his friend’s face. “Then that’s how we find them.”
Ford grinned, and Blake couldn’t help an answering smirk.
* * *
Annalise went down to breakfast the next morning and was surprised to see her husband sitting in his regular place, breaking his fast, perusing the morning paper as if nothing was amiss. She’d walked into his room in the morning but hadn’t found him there. Somehow, she wasn’t expecting him in the dining room, either.
She paused at the entrance, taking in the tableau before her. Her husband, all fresh and rested, sat at the head of the table. She’d imagined this peaceful domestic scene would be frequent when she had married him. It hadn’t turned out that way. So seeing him there now, after everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours—after the last fourteen months—squeezed her heart until it ached.
She had seen her dreams shatter before her eyes once before because of Blake. She wouldn’t let him do that to her again. She took a fortifying breath and walked toward her place at the table.
“Good morning,” she said, trying to lighten her tone. “I didn’t think you’d be dining out of your room so soon.”
“Morning.” Blake put aside the paper and looked at her, his gaze running over her form. The intense perusal sent goosebumps along the length of her spine. “I am all right. I think it was just fatigue and shock. There is nothing wrong with me and my health.”
A footman brought a plate filled with kippers, eggs, toast, and butter and put it in front of Annalise. He poured her some chocolate and returned to stand at the side of the room.
“Did you sleep well then?” she asked, looking down at her plate.
“The bed is…” He cleared his throat. “It is too soft. I am afraid I’ve gotten quite used to rougher surfaces.”
“There wasn’t a mattress where you were?” She furrowed her brows.
“Not so much, no. How about you? How did you sleep?”
“Well, thank you,” she said as she pushed her food around the plate with her fork.
The fact was, she hadn’t slept well at all. After Blake left his room, she’d tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She’d walked around the room, stared out of the window, waiting for her ill husband to come back home. This was all too familiar not to cause her pain.
After she finally saw his carriage return with the first light of dawn, Annalise had lain in her bed, listening to the sounds of his footsteps as he came to his room, performed nightly ablutions, and finally quieted down. She had managed to fall asleep shortly after that, only to be awakened a few moments later by the chambermaid, who came in to stir the fire in the hearth.
Unable to rest further, she got up and walked straight to Blake’s room. Only he wasn’t there. Instead, she found him breakfasting in their dining room as if nothing was amiss.
Annalise raised her head and saw Blake staring at her. She cocked a questioning brow.
“I can’t seem to take my eyes off you,” he said hoarsely, then cleared his throat. “You are more beautiful than I remember.”
Annalise shook her head. “Blake. I do not know how to respond to your flatteries.”
“What do you mean?”
