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Even at this distance, his gaze pinned her to the spot, and she shivered a little. Rafe then took a few steps forward, and Sylvia’s breath caught, until he slowly closed the door, his eyes never leaving hers. The decided click of the lock sank through her.
“Are you listening?” Georgiana asked.
Sylvia forced herself to turn away from the door. “Sorry, what?”
“Lord Caldwell thinks Mr. Davies is acting on behalf of the Crown. That is why he is staying behind.”
“Oh?” Sylvia hoped that came off slightly more convincing than it sounded to her ears.
Georgiana’s eyes softened. “You look exhausted. We need to get you to bed.”
Lord Caldwell offered to escort them, but Georgiana waved him away, and within minutes they were in her room.
“If you need anything, come to me straightaway,” the viscountess insisted.
Sylvia nodded and sank back against the pillows. Her eyes had already begun to close. “Georgiana?”
“Hmm?”
“What will you do when the viscount finds out what we’ve done?”
They both knew it was only a matter of time before he learned of their deception.
“Let me worry about that.”
Her gentle tone only increased Sylvia’s guilt. She hadn’t considered the consequences revealing the truth could have for Georgiana.
“I’m sorry. About everything. You deserve a better friend than me.”
Sylvia planned to make a much more thorough apology in the morning, but she couldn’t go to sleep without at least saying something. After a moment, she cracked one eye open.
Georgiana was giving her a tender smile. “Already forgiven, dear one. Now go to sleep.”
Sylvia closed her eyes. “Yes,” she mumbled before drifting off.
Chapter Twenty
So, then, do you still intend to marry your little revolutionary, or was that just a story?”
Rafe tried to ignore Wardale as he packed up the last of the incriminating files in a box. The man’s time would have been better spent burning the evidence rather than chasing after him and Sylvia. His confidence would be his undoing. “Take this downstairs,” he instructed a young police officer.
“Yes, sir,” the lad said eagerly and left.
Rafe immediately began to rifle through a stack of papers to keep from engaging with Wardale. Thank God Henry had had the foresight to contact the authorities regarding his suspicions. The constable in charge had deferred to Rafe and treated Wardale as a suspect, but the trace of worry he had briefly displayed was gone now. Even after the blackmail files had been recovered, Wardale appeared entirely unconcerned. He had grown cocky once again. Rafe had seen it before in other powerful men. They spent so long at the top that they forgot how far they had to fall.
“You must know what being associated with her will mean for your career,” Wardale continued, unaffected by Rafe’s blatant attempt to ignore him. “She may not have been formally charged with a crime, but the papers won’t care. They’ll be relentless. I can see the headlines now: ‘Notorious Rake Ensnared by Disgraced Rebel.’ No one in government will take you seriously. Not with her taint upon you. Then again, perhaps you aren’t as ambitious as your brother thought…”
Rafe slammed the papers down. “Shut up,” he growled. “I suppose it’s been ages since anyone told you that.”
Wardale merely laughed. “You are correct. I’d nearly forgotten what it was like having someone else tell me what to do.”
“Well, I suggest you get used to it. I foresee your future being full of taking orders from other people.”
Prison guards, mostly.
Wardale frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but the door opened and the head constable entered.
“All right. That’s the last of it. You’ve been incredibly helpful, Mr. Davies.” He stuck out his hand.
