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CHAPTERFOUR
Clara held her breath as she waited for Mr. Fitzroy’s answer.
Under her hand, his bulging biceps flexed, reminding her of the strength and power of this man. The one currently set upon investigating a criminal plot to keep her friends safe.
She couldn’t be more excited if she’d met the actual Bushy Hero.
But that thought made her wince. She was taking this trip to be with Kinross. Not to obsess over a man she’d read about in the papers or Mr. Fitzroy.
Besides. He didn’t even like her. Did he?
That was of no account. She was here for Kinross. The man she’d dreamed of for years. And with her mother’s illness…it seemed vital to seize her future now—and that future had always been matrimony with Kinross.
So she ignored her racing heart as she looked at Mr. Fitzroy. He wasn’t even her sort of man. Kinross had always had fairytale looks with perfect hair and teeth, a square jaw and the sort of form on which statues were modeled.
While Mr. Fitzroy… His thick hair stuck out a bit here and there, looking difficult to tame. And his muscles were massive, and his eyes… Well, there was something so very inviting about them. And then there was his fixation on keeping others safe.
She shook her head. She had to stop.
“In terms of what I need,” he rumbled, “some information on the new earl would be very helpful.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, looking away as his face tightened into a slight wince. “It’s his home that’s been targeted. There might be an inadvertent link between him and the thieves.”
That made her gasp and she found herself moving just a touch closer to Mr. Fitzroy. Her hip brushed his and then she skittered away as much as her hand in his arm would allow.
She shook her head. “Let me see. He went to Oxford with my brother. He has a town house in London where he spent most of his time. He…”
What else did she know? He liked card games, he was terribly charming, and he hated his father. But that was far too personal to share with Mr. Fitzroy.
“Did he stay in London a great deal? Not in the country with his father?”
Her gaze narrowed. What did that have to do with jewel thieves? When Mr. Fitzroy had begun talking, she’d thought she’d be getting some actual answers. Was this plot what Priscilla had been referring to yesterday?
But she was back to being confused.
And much as she liked Mr. Fitzroy, she’d know more before she shared anything else. “He does not keep me informed of most of his movements.”
Mr. Fitzroy nodded, but his face fell with obvious disappointment.
They finished their walk in relative silence and for once, Clara was glad to climb into the carriage again. Here, there would be no more questions and she could sift through all the information she’d learned.
She pressed her hands together as she considered what he’d told her about the potential thieves, Wyatt, the queen. Everything made sense until she got to his questions about Kinross. The Bushy Hero had targeted London crime. Was Kinross somehow involved in the robberies that the Bushy Hero had investigated a few months back?
Was that why Ralph had asked where he resided?
Her head swam as her stomach pitched. She had to know the truth. If the people she cared for were in danger…
A slight pitter-patter on the roof caught her notice and she pulled back the curtain. When had all those clouds rolled in?
The sky grew darker and the rain steadier until it came down in such a deluge that another sound could not be heard over the pounding of the water on the carriage.
Clara’s hands pressed together as the carriage slowed to a crawl.
“Should I climb out?” Ralph asked Wyatt, his brow knit in a line of concern.
Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t know.”
