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Rachel not only looked like Caroline, she sounded like her too. A romantic at heart, for better or worse. She took her first bite of sausage and then something hit her. Rachelwasa romantic at heart. She had adored her father. Was it possible… “Rachel darling, you didn’t by chance take your father’s journal,didyou?”
“Mama!” Her daughter blanched at the suggestion. “I would never do somethinglikethat.”
That was unfortunate. If Rachel had taken the journal, it would have been easily returned. Caroline would look like an idiot in front of Mr. Blackaby, but that wasn’t the end of the world. “Well, if you do see it somewhere, please let me know. I can’t seem to put my handsonit.”
“Ofcourse,Mama.”
* * *
“Damn it all!”The air whooshed out of Chase Winslett as the punchbag slammed against his chest. He caught his breath and then frowned at Marc. “I’m not sure who has you so angry, Haversham, but I’ll not let you take it out on me.” Then he backed away from the bag he had been holding until a moment before and shook out his right hand as though itstung.
Marc wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm. Winslett wasn’t a weakling by any stretch of the imagination. Certainly he could withstand another five minutes of exercise. “So littlefortitude?”
The young man scoffed. “My arms have turned to jelly, thanks to you.” Then he gestured to a pair sparring in the middle of Gentleman Jackson’s and said, “Think I’ll just watch for a bit,” before leaving Marc and his punchbag all alone in thecorner.
Marc glanced after the lordling’s departing back and scowled slightly. What an insipid fellow. Watching Lieutenant Avery and his brother-in-law dodge each other’s punches could hardly be entertaining. But ashehad an unscheduled stop to make before he headed home, and no one appeared willing to take over for Winslett, he begrudgingly left the bag and went tocleanup.
That was fairly frustrating however, as he’d like to have thrown a few more punches. But the truth of the matter was, he really wanted to throw a few in Peasemore’s direction instead of the punchbag as a stand in. Having that smug jackass on the other end of Marc’s fists would have been much more satisfying on a number oflevels.
Avery or his brother-in-law must have landed a punch if the chorus of oohs from the main room were any indication, but Marc hardly cared. He finished cleaning up and then made his way out of the boxingsalon.
But as soon as he stepped out onto Bond Street, he found the most irritating of fellows leaning against the façade of the building. Marc’s day only wantedforthis.
“Ah, Lord Haversham,” Mr. Blackaby of Bow Street began smoothly. “I had hoped to findyouhere.”
And Marchadhoped to never encounter the Runner again, incessant gnat that he was. The man had been a thorn in Marc’s side ever since that unfortunate incident with the late Lord Brookfield. “Afraid I’m in a bit of hurry today, Blackaby,” he returned and started toward Piccadilly with the thought that a hack would be easier to hail there than in the middleofBond.
“I’m certain you can make time for me,” Blackaby continued, following inhiswake.
“And once again you would be incorrect,” Marc tossed over his shoulder. One would think the man would get tired of perpetually being wrong, but apparently he thrivedonit.
“Rushing off to read Lord Staveley’sjournal?”
Marc stopped in his tracks when the Runner’s words hit his ears. Staveley’s journal? He turned on his heel and glared at the man. “I beg your pardon?” he growled, ignoring the other pedestrians walkingpastthem.
“Her ladyship would just like it returned,mylord.”
Staveley’sjournalwas missing? Was that what the thief had taken? Would Staveley have put the deciphered code inthere? Didn’t seem like a likely place, but then again, Staveley didn’t seem like a likely operative. Even so, Blackaby, the eternal fool that he was, thought Marc had it? “I can’t imagine what led you to believe I was in possession of the man’s journal, but you are, again, quitemistaken.”
“Am I?” Blackaby narrowed his dark eyes on Marc. “Your butler just recently began working for the lady,didn’the?”
So now Simmons was the thief? That was Blackaby’s working theory? The man was a damned idiot. He always had been. It was no wonder crime ran rampant in London. “He’s notmybutler anylonger—”
“Youwere spotted in her mews this morning. And you are obsessed with the lady if all the gossip columns are to bebelieved.And—”
“The gossip columns?” Marc spat. Who the devil had spotted him that morning? That was unfortunate, but he couldn’t focus on that at the moment. Doing so would only embolden the irritating Runner. So it was best to focus on the rest of his nonsense. “Surprised you have time to read such drivel with crime on the rise, Blackaby.” He shook his head in annoyance. “Perhaps her ladyship has misplaced the item. Or forgot where she saw it last. ButIhave not taken it, nor would I have any interest inStaveley’sinner thoughts or musings.” And he wouldn’t. In all honesty, there couldn’t be anything less interesting in the world. Besides, any thought Staveley might have ever had about Caroline would not be something Marc would care to read, not in this lifetime nor in the next. “You know, I’m beginning to think that dagger-throwing fellow in Covent Garden has the right idea about dealing with the criminal element in this city ifyourepresent our best andbrightest.”
Then after a dismissive once over, Marc turned on his heel and started again forPiccadilly.
He only got a few feet further before Blackaby called after him, “I have my eye on you,Haversham.”
Which was a bloody nuisance. Marc waved his hand in the air to dismiss the Runner’s remark. Damned Blackaby. It had taken quite some time for the man to leave him alone after Major Moore’s shooting. In the end, he had to enlist the help of Lieutenant Avery in that regard. But that tactic wouldn’t work a second time,unfortunately.
As it happened, Marc was correct about the ease of hailing a hack on Piccadilly and boarded a hired conveyance immediately. “The Strand,” he told the driver. “The Sugar Plum Shoppe, if youknowit.”
“Right away, sir.” The driver smiled a toothless grin and Marc thought it quite likely the mandidknow the shoppe inquestion.
Chapter7
