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Looking back out the window at the man standing beside the carriage, she could see the clear pleading in his face. He was from the Society. Last night, he had approached Rex to say something about the earl. Mary’s memories were fuzzy on the actual conversation, too lost in her own little world, but she remembered that. The man stared back at her, tilting his head as if asking if she was going to come out. Why he did not leave the side of the carriage, she did not know, but surely it could not hurt to find out.
“Even if he is, he clearly regrets his actions,” Mary murmured. Thinking quickly, she shoved the note at Lily. “Take this to Rex. I am going to find out what Devon knows.”
Searching her eyes, Lily nodded her head sharply, taking the note. Josie was glaring out the window, squinting at the man as if she was trying to memorize his features. Apparently, unnerved by her gaze, Collins turned away, looking back into the carriage window. Or perhaps there was someone within who had spoken to him? The earl?
“I should go with you,” Josie said stoutly, but Mary shook her head.
“He says to come alone. If you come, he may not feel comfortable talking, especially if the conversation is… delicate.” Rex would want to help him, Mary felt sure of it. “Get that note to Rex, and I am sure he will be along shortly. If Devon is feeling talkative, this might be our only chance… Rex has been looking for him fordays.I will be safe enough—he would not send me a message in the middle of a shop with so many witnesses if he was planning something nefarious.”
They did not like it, but they did not protest again, both nodding their grimly reluctant agreement and exchanging glances. For once, their feelings on a subject were in complete unison.
Hurrying out the door, Mary rushed up to Collins.
“Did you share the note with your friends?” he asked accusingly, frowning at her. Mary frowned right back at him.
“Of course, I would not be coming along otherwise.”
Still disapproving, he sighed, opening the carriage door.
“Very well. His lordship is in here, but be forewarned, he’s completely soused.”
That he was drunk came as no large surprise. Mary suppressed a sigh, climbing into the carriage with Collins’ help. As the man had indicated, the Earl of Devon was sitting inside, a blanket over his lap, his hands tucked beneath its edges. He blinked at her with muzzy confusion. His hair was bedraggled, there was several days’ worth of growth on his jaw, and he smelled like a brewery. Mary did not think she had ever seen a gentleman look so wrinkled and disarrayed.
“M-ry?” His voice slurred her name, so there was no vowel, and she tutted under her breath. Goodness, how drunk was he? The writing on the note had been perfectly legible. Perhaps he had written the request, then had a drink to give himself fortitude? Settling on the bench across from him, she stared back at him, aghast at the picture he made. Collins clambered into the carriage behind her, and Devon’s eyes widened in alarm. “M-ry –run!”
His voice was not loud, but it was emphatic, and he lifted his hands as if to reach for her. Mary gasped in shock and horror when the blanket fell away, revealing his hands were bound in front of him. Cursing, Collins slammed the carriage door shut behind himself, quickly pulling out a gun and sitting down next to Mary, pressing the hard metal against her ribs. Mary cried out as his hand wrapped round her bicep, holding her in place, trapping her. Her mouth went dry with fear, heart pounding in her chest, and confusion reigned.
“Neither of you move,” he said, his voice icy cold and cruel, a far cry from the worried, disapproving man he had portrayed only moments earlier. “Lucas, behave, or I will shoot her right here and now, and damn the consequences.”
Rex
Clearing the air did not take long once Browne was settled and willing to begrudgingly listen. Rex was glad he had asked Cormack to come along—the butler was so shocked Browne thought Rex could be complicit in any kind of treachery and so vehement in Rex’s defense, the captain actually began to listen.
“You could have believed Elijah and me,” Jones complained, scowling at Browne, who shrugged unrepentantly.
“Elijah was his friend years ago but not of late, and you barely know him. He could have hidden all sorts of things from either of you.” Browne inclined his head toward Cormack. “No one can hide anything of importance from their butler.”
Rex snorted. It was true enough. He did not allow himself to laugh, though. He did notwantto like Browne. The man was rude, gruff, abrasive, and far too quick to jump to intimidation. That might work on some people, but it had backfired with Rex.
“So, how can I help you, gentlemen?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “Why do you needmyhelp?” He braced himself, sure they were going to ask about Lucas, and was utterly shocked by Browne’s first question.
“What can you tell us about Andrew Barrowman and Rupert Collins?”
Blinking in surprise, Rex took a moment to readjust his expectations. He had been prepared to confess he didn’t know of Lucas’ whereabouts and even to tell them about the odd last meeting they’d had. The Earl of Carlisle and his lover had been nowhere near his thoughts.
“You think Carlisle is involved?” Truthfully, he could see that even less than Lucas. Carlisle’s accounts were in no danger of being emptied, he stood to benefit greatly from the trade agreements currently being hammered out with the French, and he had a core of honor Rex would have thought unassailable. Whereas Lucas, for all that he was Rex’s friend, was an admitted opportunist.
“Or Collins,” Browne tacked on. “Or both of them. Right now, the evidence is unclear, but we believe that to be the case. Jones saw him speaking to you last night.”
“Yes, but all he wanted was to warn me that he saw the Earl of Devon speaking with… well, someone whom the Society would rather not have him interacting with.”
Jones and Browne both grimaced.
“Julian Mitchell?” Jones asked, his distaste clear. Rex nodded, surprised they knew the man’s name. “Not one of Stuart’s better recruiting ideas, though he does have a knack for ferreting information out of the underbelly of London.”
“Mitchellis one ofStuart’s?” Rex was thunderstruck and a bit irate. “The man is an attempted rapist, at the very least.”
“Believe me, none of us are happy about it, though Stuart has curbed Mitchell’s darker impulses,” Browne said sourly. “Likely he thought he was safe in your club. Stuart was livid when Mitchell managed to get himself kicked out.”
