‘Kir?’ The lady looked around the office to spot the boy. He was hovering close to Dora, hoping to be forgotten so he could stay put. ‘You, my boy, are coming with me. You can open the door to the carriage and then ride with the coachman.’ This was a rare treat for Kir who liked nothing better than accompanying the lady’s driver while he took her ladyship about town. ‘Yarton will have a bed made up for you in the servants’ attics for when we return, and you must promise us all you will use it.’ The lady was as clever as she was beautiful. When matters became dangerous she knew it was important to keep Kir busy, or loyalty meant he would drift back into harm’s way as he had done during the Elgin investigation. Believing he was protecting Dora by following her, Kir had been kidnapped by a rogue French agent and it had been the devil’s own job to rescue him.
‘Yes, milady,’ said Kir, overawed, as well he might be when faced with one of the ton’s most powerful women.
Leaving the details to be settled by others, Jacob hobbled on Alex’s arm across the courtyard and upstairs, following Yarton to a guest room.
‘Send a note to Thornbury,’ said Jacob.
‘I will.’
‘You’ll make sure Dora?—’
Alex cut him off. ‘You don’t need to ask, Sandys. We’ll make sure no one gets near her while you’re out of commission.’
The bed looked like heaven, already turned down for him to slip between the sheets. How did Yarton do it? The man had a knack for anticipating what was required. Alex helped him undress, hissing in sympathy when he saw the damage.
‘I’m surprised you’re still on your feet,’ he said.
‘So am I.’ Toppling like a felled tree, Jacob stretched out on the sheet and felt rather than saw Alex draw up the light coverlet. ‘Call me early.’
‘I’ll do no such thing. Rest, Sandys, or you’ll be no good to anyone.’
The door shut softly and Jacob began the tumble into sleep. Just before he succumbed, he remembered that, thanks to the complicated, busy day, he hadn’t found time to call on, or send word to, Arthur. The viscount would not be pleased to find himself pushed to the back of the queue, even if the excuse was a rather dramatic carriage accident.
He would have to deal with it, thought Jacob. Tomorrow.
Chapter Fourteen
Once Jacob was safely put to bed in Lady Tolworth’s house to recover from his wounds, Dora couldn’t rest. Sitting at the office desk, it was hard to know what to do first. It had been so close, and she had almost lost him. Her insides still felt cold and her hands trembled at the remembrance. Ink splattered over the blotter, and she was annoyed by her own weakness.
‘Buck up, Dora,’ she murmured.
She and Jacob were used to dealing with threats– indeed, the last three months had seen people come at them many times, but usually they had known they were targets, and why. This was different.
If his second theory was right, were they facing a life of not-so-veiled contempt for daring to cross social lines to marry? Would people come at them from all sides to show their disapproval, jostling, pushing, sneering? Did that not weigh in the scales with Ruby’s protest and suggest Dora should release Jacob from the engagement?
That did not feel like something she would do. Dora put away the casebook in which she had finally managed to updatetheir findings in her worst handwriting. She turned the key in the desk drawer for an added layer of security. Unlike Ruby’s objection, which at least had the weight of friendship on its side, Dora found opposition from people whom she heartily disliked only made her more bloody-minded about going ahead with the wedding. She did not have a character to bow to bullies. Putting it crudely, they could bugger off.
That thought cured her of the trembles, thank heavens.
Resolve bolstered, she went to the scullery to make a sandwich to take with her. Her day had not given her many opportunities to eat, and half a scone did not a stomach fill.
As for the other theory, she mused as she sliced the loaf and added some ham, that the attack was connected with the case and the missing final report by the Comte D’Antraigues– something which the pickpocketing seemed to confirm– they had a duty to ensure their client was warned. Better that than sitting quivering in the office like some small furry animal driven back to her burrow. She wrapped and pocketed the sandwich. Time to face the world.
‘I’m coming with you,’ Dora told Alex as he picked up his hat to call on the Austens in Sloane Street.
Not keen on that plan, he revolved the brim in his hand. ‘Dora, Jacob would prefer it if you stayed here– in safety. I do too.’ With his soft smile and sincere blue eyes, he really was too handsome for his own good, with his long lashes that many a debutante would sigh for.
She held up a hand. ‘That look won’t work on me. I’m immune. If the next sentence out of your mouth is “let the menfolk deal with this” then you will regret it.’
He swallowed the very words he was about to speak and said instead: ‘But you don’t need to come. Only one of us is required to take the message.’
‘Fine. Then you stay here and guard the office. Hugo and Ren will appreciate the company, I’m sure.’ She cast a look at their employees, who were wisely keeping out of this.
Susan was putting on her shawl in preparation for going home. ‘Listen to her, love,’ she told Alex. ‘You men might think you’re invincible, but even you need someone to watch your back. Go with her– I’ll feel better for knowing she has company.’
The army had taught Alex when to sound the retreat. He gave a put-upon huff and tapped his hat into place. ‘Very well.’ He held out an arm. ‘Miss Fitz-Pennington?’
‘Alex,’ Dora replied, placing her hand lightly on his forearm. ‘I have a pistol in my reticule.’
