“I will concede the point,” she allowed, holding her paper aloft. “But this is a list, and most decidedly not a love letter. During my investigation of the Emerald Club, I discovered there were locations repeatedly mentioned by the members, both in conversations I overheard, and in documents I was able to view, and I would like to visit each of them for myself.”
He studied her with that piercing gaze of his. “The information I was given by the Home Office did not describe how you managed to find yourself within the Emerald Club.”
“It was not me who infiltrated the club. It was Mrs. Eliza Jane Mulligan,” she told him.
He blinked. “Who is Mrs. Mulligan?”
“You are looking at her.” She grinned. “Or rather, another version of her. Mrs. Mulligan was a ruse, the sort I have used often. She was illiterate, and unfortunately, dull-witted. But her mother hailed from County Cork, and she excelled at hovering at the elbows of senior members, whisking away dinner plates and refilling glasses of wine.”
Her assignments often required ruses, but pretending to be Mrs. Mulligan had been the most dangerous of all her cases yet. The Emerald Club was, to the impartial observer, a gentleman’s social club like so many others. But behind its walls, a dangerous new faction of Fenians plotted destruction as amiably as they inquired after each other’s womenfolk.
“How is your Ma, O’Bannon?”
“How many crackers can accompany next month’s boat to Liverpool, Rourke?”
They had never imagined simple Mrs. Mulligan would knowcrackerswas a euphemism for shipments of lignin dynamite. Oh, they had never spoken words such asdynamiteorbombsdirectly. But there was great power in hiding in plain sight. When the men she served had gazed upon her, they had seen precisely what she wished them to see: a bespectacled woman with a cap upon her head, eyes always cast downward, a mother of five struggling to earn coin to fill her children’s hungry bellies.
Arden’s voice interrupted. “You disguised yourself and went amongst them?”
He sounded almost impressed. She dared not fool herself that he was.
“I played a role,” she conceded. “Men such as these speak freely behind closed doors, and in the presence of each other, particularly when there is food and spirits involved. None of the other agents could hide themselves as well as I could. You see? We female detectives are every bit as capable of performing our jobs as our male counterparts.”
His lips compressed. “I never suggested you were not, Miss Montgomery.”
“Mmm.” She hummed and glanced back down at her list. “There were implications.”
“Imaginedimplications?” he persisted.
“Undeniable ones.” Her gaze returned to him. “Your displeasure with me, for instance.”
“My displeasure at having a partner,” he corrected, “when I have been managing quite well without one.”
“Obviously you were not managingquite well, else Winchelsea and the Home Office would not have chosen to give you me as your aid,” she argued calmly, for it was the truth.
He tensed across the carriage, and it was so subtle, she sensed it more than she saw it. One slight tic of the muscle in his jaw, fleeting and then gone, betrayed him.
“My work has been impeccable and diligent, Miss Montgomery.” His tone had grown markedly cold. “With the exception of The Incident.”
For a moment, she forgot about her list. They wereen routeto Praed Street Station, one of the targets which had been bandied about quite readily by Emerald Club members. But Arden held all her attention. She had assumed the Special League had always been led by partners. But Arden’s earlier words returned to her now, fueling her curiosity.
“Which incident?”
His countenance was grim. “I do not speak of it.”
Naturally, that just made her want to speak of it more. She leaned forward. The action, coupled with an unexpected bump in the road, sent her to the edge of the bench. Her knees were suddenly entangled with his long legs, and the warmth he radiated seared her.
Hastily, she slid her bottom back to the proper position. Her cheeks went hot, but she did her best to pretend she was unaffected. “As your partner, I believe I ought to know, Arden.”
His stare had fallen to her legs, and it did strange things to her equilibrium. A throbbing sense of urgency came to life within her. Her lungs felt as if they were too constricted, and her belly tightened. For one brief, dizzying moment, she imagined his hands on her thighs.
At last, his green eyes flicked to hers, impenetrable as ever. “As I said, I do not speak of it.”
Was it her imagination, or did the carriage seem smaller? He dominated it with his body, his presence. Her discomfit was a source of great irritation for Hazel. She tolerated neither weakness nor distraction in herself, and she was currently allowing both to overtake her.
She forced her mind to the matter at hand, Arden’s evasion. “If you do not tell me, I will ask Winchelsea.”
His nostrils flared. “Is that a threat, Miss Montgomery?”
