Kendall was not wrong.
“However, my uncle is known for his reliability and dependability,” Ethan countered.
“So is Hadley.”
Again, Ethan couldn’t argue.
Another long silence.
“I shall consider it, Penn-Leith,” Kendall finally conceded, rising from his chair, “but I make no promises. Show some zeal in rebuilding my sister’s honor and do nothing to excite the press again, and perhaps I will change my tune.”
Ethan nodded, standing as well. Considering the circumstances, the concession was a gracious one.
“The sooner we move our plan into place, the better. I would hate for some scoundrel from Lady Allegra’s past to surface and cause trouble.” Kendall turned for the door. “I shall send you the details of our travel itinerary.”
Ethan nodded and saw Kendall out.
As he climbed the stairs to report all to Uncle Leith, Ethan couldn’t pinpoint what precise emotion he was feeling.
Excitement to see Malcolm and Leah and spend time in the vicinity of Lady Allegra.
Apprehension that he would do something to destroy his uncle’s chances of winning the shipping contract.
And terror that this entire charade would come tumbling down like a house of cards.
11
Allie stared at the note a street urchin had shoved into her hand as she stepped from Kendall’s carriage at St. Katharine’s Dock.
Non dimenticarci mentre viaggi in Scozia. Ci aiuterai ancora, o la nostra punizione sarà veloce.
—F
Good grief.
She rolled her eyes.
Do not forget us as you travel to Scotland. You will help us still, or our retribution will be swift.
Fabrizio had grown impatient waiting for Allie to respond and had reverted to threatening her.
Kendall had been true to his word. For the past several days leading up to their departure for Scotland, he had permitted Allie the same freedoms as any woman of her rank. Unfortunately, her newfound freedom had also made it easier for Fabrizio to hound her. This was the second note she had received in as many days.
But this morning, Allie, Kendall, and Lady Whipple had boarded Kendall’s private steamship, theSS Statesman, for the voyage to Montrose, Scotland.
Fabrizio would find it hard to continue his attempts at intimidation, thank goodness. This was both a positive and a negative.
Though Allie appreciated the reprieve, she now had to heed Fabrizio’s threats. If he told a gossip rag that she was the thief from Mr. Penn-Leith’s infamous poem, Allie would find herself in dire straits with Kendall.
Holding the foolscap in her hand, Allie analyzed her options and came to an unfortunate realization—she needed to tell her brother about Fabrizio’s presence in London and his blackmail attempts.
Kendall would be incensed and likely blame her for Fabrizio’s indiscretion. But telling her twin was preferable to him deciding she had broken their agreement.
Allie would tell him when they stopped for the evening.
Looking up from Fabrizio’s scribbled note, Allie braced a hand against the ship’s railing, eyes scanning the busy dockyard. The boat rocked in its moorings, sailors tossing ropes and calling orders to set sail.
To her left, flags fluttered over the walls of the White Tower and the Tower of London. Sunlight gleamed anemically overhead, trying to break through the perpetual haze that blanketed the city. Tilting her head back, she reveled in the feel of faint sunshine on her skin. After so many years of Italy’s bright skies, she craved the sun.
