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The provocateur had aged over the last decade. There was grey about his temples and lines across his brow that hadn’t been there before. But those shrewd silvery eyes of his looked just as cunningasever.
Bile rose up in Marc’s throat. What he wouldn’t give for a pistol or even a dagger-wielding man in a mask at the moment. “It’s Haversham now,” Marc said evenly, relieved for the years of training he’d had, ensuring that there was no emotion to be found in his voiceatall.
“Yes, yes.” St. George nodded and stepped toward Marc and Caroline. “I do remember hearing about that. So sorry about yourfather.”
But there were no apologies, no condolences for the knife St. George had plunged into Max’s unsuspecting back. “Well, it has been nearly a decade,” Marc returned, glancing down the path and wondering how he could possible spirit Caroline away from the man before she was truly inharm’sway.
“Who is this?” St. George asked, his eyes landing on Caroline before his gaze flicked backtoMarc.
“Someone I should have already seen returned to her family,” Marc said, sliding Caroline’s hand into his and squeezing it meaningfully. “Do excuse us, will you?” He started for the path’s exit with Caroline still tightly in hisgrasp.
“I remember the revolutionary-minded fellow you once were,” St. George called after them. “I was hoping we could find some time to talk,Haversham.”
Not for anything in the world. But saying as much with Caroline beside him would not be in the best interest of her safety. “I’m certain something can be arranged.” Marc glanced back over his shoulder at the man. “Do have a goodevening.”
They rounded a hedge, back onto the Grand South Walk just as a whistle was blown to signal the garden’s lamplighters, and a breath whooshed from Marc’s lungs, though it would take a while for his heart to return to itsnormalpace.
“I have every bit of confidence,” Caroline whispered, “that you are going to tell me whothatwas.”
“A very dangerous fellow,” Marc said only loud enough for hertohear.
“Yes, I gathered that from the hold you had on my hand.” She drew him to a stop, which was the last thing in the world Marc wanted to do. He wanted to get her as far away from St. George, and as quickly as possible, before the villain found them. He wanted to round up Rachel and Emma and take a ferry back across the Thames. And he wanted…“Marc, tell me what’s going on. What did he mean revolutionary-minded?Andwhy—”
“Not here,” Marc said, staring down at her and cursing himself for putting her even remotely in harm’s way. “Just act like everything is normal, at least until weleave.”
Thankfully, she nodded in agreement. Then they headed directly for the supperboxes.
* * *
Damn it all.Sebastian stared after Haversham and Lady Staveley from his hidden spot near the hedgerow. He could hardly believe his eyes, honestly. He didn’t care for Haversham. Who did, really? But Sebastian had never imagined that the man would ever throw his lot in with Kenneth St. George. The radical had, after all, stabbed the marquess’s cousin, quite literally, intheback.
But he had seen them together, just now, with his very eyes. Sebastian couldn’t hear them, of course, not from his position, but they’d seemed quite amicable, which was more than disheartening, especially considering how close the marquess seemed to be with Lady Staveleyoflate.
And that meant Sebastian needed to put his hands on that deciphered code, and he needed to do so immediately. What if Haversham found it first and destroyed thething?
Staveley’s library, he sighed. How the devil was he going to find that code amongst all those books? He wished he’d known the man somewhat, that he had some idea of a favorite volume or subject with which to start his search. But there was nothing for it. His search began tonight and with great haste. There was no otherchoice.
Chapter18
In all thetime Caroline had known Marc, she’d never seen any real fear in his eyes, not even when that madman Brookfield had leveled his pistol on Marc and shot him in the shoulder. But she’d seen a flash of fear in Marc’s expression just moments ago, back along the Grand South Walk, once they were away from the mysterious man, but it had vanished a momentlater.
Who in the world was the man from the darkened walk? And what could he possibly wantwithMarc?
She couldn’t help but scan the gardens from their supper box, looking for the puzzling fellow. On her life, she didn’t think she’d ever seen him before. And Marc hadn’t seen him for at least a decade either as he’d first referred to him as Kirkburn. So someone Marc had known before he’d come into the marquessate, someone she would vow he’d prefer to never seeagain.
What did the man mean that Marc had been revolutionary-minded? Caroline was willing to concede that she didn’t know everything there was to know about Marcus Gray, but she would bet her own life he’d never been some incendiary radical. He’d have to care, in some way, about something for that to be true; but he never had…well, with the exception of her, perhaps. Marc had, after all, said helovedher.
“…without Ben next time,” Emma was saying something and Caroline had missed the vast majorityofit.
“Without Ben?” sheechoed.
“Well, Uncle Luke said we couldn’t go up in the balloonwithBen.”
So her daughter wanted to return to Vauxhall and do the balloon ascent without her cousin? Caroline thought that was the gist of the conversation, though she wasn’t entirely certain. “We’ll have to see,” she saidnoncommittally.
“Oh!” Emma continued and reached her hand out to Marc, who sat in the seat next to Caroline. “When we come back. You could go up in the balloon with us,mylord.”
Marc quirked her a slight grin. “Are you not afraid in the least to be so high intheair?”
