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“Pardon me?” Wayne folded his arms. “What exactly are you referring to?”
Donley walked to his desk, carrying a stack of papers. The man was older than Wayne by a good ten years, but he appeared much younger.
Chuckling, Donley set the stack of papers down. “You forget, my good man, but we are all watching each other’s backs.” He sat behind the desk. “It just so happens that I was riding by Lord Montague’s estate early this morning and saw a lovely lady exiting your coach.”
Wayne’s stomach lurched, just as it had done this morning, and his head pounded in fear. “Pray tell, what were you doing riding by that early in the morning?”
Donley flipped his hand in the air. “Stop changing the subject. You had a woman with you, and you cannot tell me otherwise.”
Wayne pulled up a chair and sat in front of his friend’s desk. “What did the woman look like?”
Donley’s eyes widened, and seconds later, he tilted back his head and laughed. “Oh, Nichols.” The man wiped the tears out of his eyes. “Don’t tell me you were so foxed that you couldn’t remember the woman.”
Wayne scowled. “Fine, I won’t tell you. However, answer my question before I lose my patience.”
The man’s shoulders continued to shake as he held in his laughter. “All I saw was her lovely gown, and that her ringlets were so long, they dropped to her shoulders. She had dark brown hair.”
Silently, Wayne groaned. His fear was correct. He’d been with Miss Taylor.
Scrubbing a hand over the lower half of his face, Wayne sighed heavily. “Donley, I honestly don’t remember much about last night. In fact, I believe I was... poisoned.”
The other man lost his humorous expression and leaned his arms on the desk. “Poisoned? Whatever makes you think that?”
Wayne nodded. “There is no other explanation. I only had one drink while at the tavern with Lord Penrose. That’s all I remember. I don’t know how I was at the Montague’s ball last night, and I certainly don’t know how I returned home.”
Donley blew out a gush of air and slid his fingers through his receding hair. “Well, that would explain a lot of things.” He shrugged. “Earlier today, Spencer,” he motioned to the empty desk in the corner of the room, “told me that he saw you leave the tavern without Meyers. Spencer mentioned that he found it odd since you were supposed to be staying close to the earl.”
Groaning, Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “I only have flashes of what happened last night.”
“Tell me,” Donley’s voice lowered. “Do you still suspect the earl of being involved in the Opium trade?”
“I do.” Wayne leaned back in his chair.
“Have you found proof?”
“Not yet.” Irritation grew inside Wayne. The sooner he could find what he needed, the sooner he could break off the engagement with Jane.
“The reason I was riding by the ball last night was that I suspected Lord Montague of being involved.” He tapped his fingers on the desktop. “The man is more influential, and he has properties along the waterfront. What better place to hide the Opium once they have been shipped?”
“True.” Wayne’s head pounded in confusion. “Continue to watch Montague. I’m going to keep an eye on the earl for a few more days, and if I don’t find any proof, I’ll drop the case.”
“Splendid.” Donley sat up straighter. “Because I’m going to need some help on this case, and who better than Bow Street’s second-best Runner.”
Wayne arched an eyebrow. “Second-best? And pray, who is first?”
Donley’s cocky smile stretched wide. “Me, of course.”
Although it hurt Wayne’s head to laugh, he did so, taking great care not to split his skull open. He understood why his friend suspected Montague, but Wayne’s gut told him to keep on Harold. The earl had to be involved with someone, and he wouldn’t put this case to rest until something incriminating was discovered.
