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The commodore’s grim warning flashed through her mind.
You wouldn’t want those you love being targeted next.
Henry had already suffered enough thanks to her. She couldn’t stomach putting him at risk once more.
Reggie watched her for a long moment. “If that is what you think is best,” he finally said.
She gave him a nod and moved toward the door. Then he continued. “But if it is because of the threats, then I hope you’ll reconsider.”
“You do?” Georgiana could not hide her surprise.
Reggie gave her a considering look. “I trust you, Georgiana. I’m sorry I haven’t always listened to you. It was a misguided attempt to protect you. But you have my full support, whatever you decide to do.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Thank you. That means a great deal to me.”
“There is something else,” he called out as she stepped onto the pavement. “I’ll admit I may be dense in many respects, but I know what I saw in that train station in Dover.” He then raised an eyebrow. “And it was most certainly not a pair offriends. At least, not any that I’ve ever had.”
“Reg, please—”
He held up a hand. “I’m taking Louisa’s advice and won’t pry. It’s none of my business. And like before, you have my full support.”
Georgiana relaxed. “Well, good.”
“But whatever you decide, this time I hope it is truly whatyouwant. Not anyone else. You deserve to be happy, Georgie. Possibly more than anyone I know.”
As Georgiana stood there in stunned silence, Reggie tipped his hat and pulled the carriage door shut.
Chapter Eighteen
My word, you look awful,” Delia said. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Captain.”
“I do, actually,” Henry grumbled as he took the morning’s post from her.
He had only arrived back in London yesterday, but the separation from Georgiana was already unbearable. It showed in the circles beneath his eyes, the pronounced lines in his face, and the slight tremble in his fingers, as if his very limbs were searching for her phantom embrace. Her dismissal in Dover had hurt, but he must accept it. They had made no promise to one another. Had said nothing of continuing their affair in London.Affair.That word was so far removed from what Henry wanted that it was rendered meaningless. But he simply tightened his jaw, headed for his desk, and got to work.
Luckily, the morning was particularly busy, with people streaming in and out of the office for hours. Henry met with a jilted wife who wanted the identity of her estranged husband’s mistress, a father seeking information on his daughter’s shifty fiancé, and a man convinced his landlady was trying to poison him. Henry recommended the last gentleman contact Scotland Yard. But the other cases he took on, as distasteful as they were, because that was what he did: wallow through the muck of people’s private lives searching for the truth. But he couldn’t remember the last time his information had made a client feel better. Mostly, he just confirmed their worst suspicions about people they had once trusted. And Henry was growing tired of it. He recalled the look of determination on Georgiana’s face as she talked about her plans for her business and of the fierce loyalty she inspired in people like Mr. Khan. He had once thought her foolish for not immediately heeding the threats against her, as that was by far the easiest solution. But now Henry understood. She had discovered her purpose, and that was worth fighting for.
Just before lunch he collapsed in his chair and began riffling through the post. There wasn’t much. A courier had dropped off a check from Reggie Fox that morning, even though a part of Henry had still expected the man to refuse to pay him despite Georgiana’s assertions. And he would have deserved nothing less. But now the bills were all paid in full, and money had been sent to various family members. Reggie may not always be the most supportive brother, but he was an honorable man. Certainly more so than Henry felt at the moment. Then his hands stilled as he came upon a small envelope with an all-too-familiar red wax seal. He shot out of his seat and flung the door open.
“Who sent this?” he barked at Delia’s back. She paused in her typing and gave him an incredulous look. “There’s no return address.”
“I’m not sure, sir,” Delia explained, wide-eyed at his demand. “It came with the rest of the mail this morning.”
Henry growled and shut the door. Then he tore open the envelope. As he read, his pulse sped up.
Commodore Perry was requesting his presence at Whitehall this afternoon. Henry snorted. They both knew this “request” was actually an order. A pity Henry didn’t take those anymore. He crumpled the letter in his hand and threw it in the wastebin. Then he grabbed his cane and flung the door open again. Delia jumped in her seat and glared at him over her shoulder.
“I’m going out,” Henry said as he tore his coat off the coatrack.
“I liked you better when you were in Monte Carlo,” Delia sighed.
“So did I,” he muttered and headed for the door, then turned back. Henry pulled a few banknotes from his billfold and handed them to a bewildered Delia. “Here. Why don’t you close up early and take Maude somewhere nice.”
Delia raised an eyebrow. “Is everything all right, Captain?”
Henry ignored the question. “Apologies for my mood.” Then he left before she could ask anything more.
***
