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Chapter Eight
Dracott waited behind the tree until Worthington’s carriage traveled out of sight. Then he stepped onto the walkway and climbed the steps leading to the townhome. He would admit he was a coward by avoiding Worthington, but the pounding in his head thanked him for avoiding the earl.
His late-night indulgence had left him sleeping past noon and waking in a miserable fit. However, he rose and started his day with a purpose. A purpose that was so far full of lies. He had a messenger deliver a missive to Worth, explaining his absence with false information about his search for Worth’s mystery lady. Then he waited for Worthington to leave for his afternoon appointments. Dracott had learned the earl’s schedule from his days of shadowing the earl and his family when he arrived in London, searching for Ravencroft. There wasn’t much he hadn’t learned about the family.
He knocked on the door and waited for Worthington’s butler, Rogers, to appear. The man didn’t make him wait long. However, he refused to announce his visit.
“Lord Worthington has given me instructions for when you called. I am to ask for you to return when he is at home,” Rogers stated.
Dracott nodded, expecting this reaction when he visited. “I understand. If you would be so kind to give this to Lady Worthington and Lady Margaret, I would appreciate it.”
Rogers reluctantly took the box from Dracott. “I see no harm in your request. Good day, Lord Dracott.”
Dracott smiled. “Thank you, kind sir. I hope your day brings goodness to you, too.”
Dracott took his leave with grace and couldn’t help but smile. The earl must feel threatened about his intentions since he had placed an obstacle in his way to see Maggie. However, it was one that he would maneuver around in time.
He had walked a few blocks before he sensed someone following him. Dracott stopped to allow a governess to pass him with her young charges and looked behind him. He noted nothing out of the ordinary to draw upon his curiosity, so he continued on.
When he strolled into the busier part of the city, instinct kicked in for him to flush out his follower. He slipped inside a bookstore and headed to the back of the shop. The twinkling of the bell alerted Dracott of another visitor. After the culprit drew closer, he slipped through the back door into the alleyway. Once there, he hid in between the empty crates and waited for his prey to present themselves.
He didn’t have to wait long when the street urchin passed by him, not noticing his hiding spot. The lad glanced around, searching for him. When he didn’t see him, he let out a whistle and continued on. Dracott knew the whistle well because he had taught it to the lad. He stayed hidden, waiting for the goons to come out of their hiding places.
Before the lad reached the end of the alley, the two henchmen grabbed the boy and threatened him with their insults. Then they threw him on the ground and stalked toward the carriage that was waiting a few feet away.
After opening the door, one henchman turned to taunt the lad. “The madame expects the information by nightfall. If not, then I get to choose the torture for your punishment.” The henchman laughed.
Most would have cringed at the brute’s glee. However, the lad lifted his chin with defiance. Dracott shook his head at the youth’s determination. That determination had always landed them in trouble. The scene before him indicated that Lady L had discovered Dracott was in London and planned to exploit his attachment with the Worthingtons to her agenda. Ravencroft had warned him of this, and he had ignored him in his revenge to bring the lady to justice. There was more at stake than simply protecting Maggie. His friend, who didn’t cower to the henchman, needed his help too. Would this nightmare ever end?
After the henchmen climbed aboard the carriage and it took off, the lad scrambled to his feet, dusting off his trousers. He ambled his way back down the alley toward Dracott, stopping near the crates. He sat down and leaned against one, taking an apple from his pocket. To any passerby, he looked to be a young lad eating his lunch.
He crunched through the apple. “The coast is clear.”
Dracott sighed. “You know it is not.”
“I only had two of them following me. They left with her.”
“Ren, I have explained this to you before. Another one stays far enough away so you do not see them trail you.”
“Either way, I must give her information on your whereabouts and confirm it is you who courts Margaret Worthington.” Ren bit out a laugh. “Courting the mark? Brilliant of you, Dracott. Has the lady fallen for your charms yet?”
“Lady Margaret is not up for discussion,” Dracott growled.
“Oh là là. It appears you are as smitten with the miss as Ravencroft is with the sister,” Ren drawled.
Dracott slid down against the brick wall. “It is not what it appears.” He hoped his denial would convince her.
“What? Are you trying to tell me she is different from the other ladies you conned? That she actually means something to you?” Ren scoffed. “Please, Dracott. I have seen you in action before, and you play her like every other lady who had the misfortunate luck to entangle themselves in your charms.”
Dracott remained silent. No matter how much of a bond he shared with Ren, it didn’t mean he trusted his friend. Ren would betray him to keep from becoming a victim of Lady L’s vindictiveness.
Ren took another bite. “Your silence speaks for itself.”
“Why did you not stay hidden?” Dracott hissed. “Do you not care what I risked for your safety?”
“You risked nothing but a cosy bed at your brother’s estate, securing your own freedom.” Ren scoffed. “While you left me vulnerable, waiting in the open for Lady L to find me.”
“I secured you a new identity in a village where Lady L would never find you. You were to wait for my return,” Dracott argued.
