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“’Course he ain’t. But what’s the first rule I taught you? Everyone has a price. And this one—his is mighty high. He and his brother know things they shouldn’t. And the young lady inside? She’sseenthings she shouldn’t. Pity, that, as that filth, Havistock, is willing to pay good money to see ’er dispatched.” He looked to Henry. “AndI’mthe bad father.”
Duchess had been right from the start. Havistock didn’t just want Helene returned, he wanted her dead. And he’d asked The Bully Boys to do it.
Alfie was still talking. “Now. While I think that’s some dirty business that will send the man straight to hell when he finally meets his maker, that ain’t my problem, and money is money.”
“So it’s to be a double cross,” Adelaide said. Alfie Trumbull didn’t waste time if there wasn’t a trade in the offing. “You’ll let Helene and Jack go free.”
“You see?” He spread his arms wide and looked toHenry. “There’s my smart girl. Brain in her head direct from her da.”
Henry did not move. “You said there’s a price.”
Alfie showed his full grin. “’Course there is, duke. As there should be. Addie knows. Anything done out of the goodness of the heart is dangerous expensive.”
He had taught her that. That everything in life was a transaction. A good or service to be bought and sold. But it wasn’t true. She’d seen goodness of heart a thousand times over the last five years. She’d seen what the Belles could do out of the goodness of their hearts. She’d seen what Henry could do. What Jack had done to protect Helene. What his father had done—loving his wife. His sons. Raising decent honorable men, who did decent honorable things... out of the goodness of their hearts.
But maybe Adelaide didn’t get the luxury of such things. There wasn’t room for it on the South Bank, where the poor scraped and fought for everything they had, and to rise... to win... there wasn’t space for good.
“Get on with it, Alfie. Name it. The price to free them all?” She’d pay it. Whatever it was. Even as she knew, without question, that it would be outrageous. That it would take more from her than she’d ever given before.
“Addie, my girl, we’re consolidatin’ power.” A cold thread whipped through her, and she instantly saw it. The whole plan. The enormous price.
“No.” She shook her head, turning an agonized look at Henry.No. Not like this.
The words were already out of her father’s mouth. “You’re finally gettin’ your wedding.”
Frustration and anger and absolute panic flooded through her as she rounded on her father, who looked like a fox who’d found a henhouse. She cursed, harsh and angry and turned to Henry, ready to tell him that she’d had nothing to do with this. That he could—no . . .hemust—refuse. That they would find another way out, a way that wouldn’t mean tarnishing the legacy of his loving family and his own future with her father’s unbearable greed.
But he was back to not looking at her. Back to looking only at Alfie, his blue eyes glittering in the waning sunlight.
He would regret it. Instantly. Adelaide knew in her soul that this man would instantly regret marrying her. Tying himself to her. To this place. To her father, who would immediately wield every tool in his arsenal to manipulate and control them.
And what of his work? What of his future? What of his legacy?
This wasn’t the plan. It was never what she wanted.
For him.The words whispered through her, and she hated the truth of them. It didn’t matter that she might have wanted this. He was all that mattered. “No. Don’t...”
Don’t make it so you regret loving me.
Don’t make it so you forget loving me.
And then Henry gave his answer. “Yes.”
A wide grin split Alfie’s face. “Say it again, boy.”
“Yes,” Henry repeated, the word firm and cool and without any doubt. “Yes. I accept the offer, on one condition.”
“Oho! A condition!” Alfie rocked back on his heels. “Go on, then, I find I’m in a givin’ mood.”
Only then did Henry turn to her, and she caught her breath at what she saw in his beautiful blue eyes.Triumph.“We do it tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Henry had never known fear the way he’d known it when he’d been jostled awake two mornings earlier by Sesily Calhoun, standing at his bedside like some kind of specter. “No time to stand on ceremony, Duke. Get up. Our girl is already gone.”
He’d been out of bed instantly, dressed within minutes, fear and fury battling his control. She’d left him. Headed into battle without him. Without her sisters in arms.
She’d taken matters into her own hands, never realizing that this wasn’t how it ended. Not like this, her against the world.
