Colin wiped at the corner of his mouth then glared at his hand as it came away bloody. He spat on his floor. “Imbeciles,” he muttered. “Comin ta a man’s place a business. Dirty imbeciles.”
Lucas was more worried about what this meant for their overarching problem. “Why did you close the club down?”
Colin spat blood. “Another man was attacked. I dinnae wanna risk it.”
Lucas nodded, his gut twisting at the thought of another person hurt because of his venture. “Did you discover who is running the Heatherdown Canal Company?” he asked.
“Some blasted lord,” Colin said, wiping at his mouth again. He glanced up at Lucas. “Apologies.”
Lucas shook his head. “No need. But we already knew it was a lord. Do you know which blasted lord? London is full of them.”
“The one who seems to be sending the imbeciles goes by the name of Colbert.”
Lucas’s head snapped up. “Colbert?”
Colin nodded.
“We need to pay the man a visit.”
A grin spread across Colin’s face. “And here I thought tonight would be a boring old Tuesday. What should we do with these guys?”
“Do you have someone nearby you trust to keep an eye on them? Or should we send for Bow Street?”
Colin shook his head. “I’ve a couple of men here. It’ll be faster tha’ way.”
“Good. Grab your men, and let’s be going.”
Chapter 34
The streets were dark andnearly deserted when they at last recognized the front of Lord Berkeley’s club. At their word, Sir Henry jumped from the carriage.
In his absence, Charlie leaned against the seat and groaned. He cut half-lidded eyes to her. “Henry is a great deal more fun when he’s not worried for my brother’s safety.”
Lydia found that hard to believe. The man had been scarily intense since the moment she’d met him. But she did not respond, feeling the weight of the dark around them and the danger that seemed to lurk in the future.
She peered out the window, dropping the curtain when a man exited a nearby building and looked at the carriage. “Are you worried for your brother’s safety?” she asked her companion.
Charlie hesitated then nodded.
Lydia pressed her eyes shut, her hands shaking.
“He will likely be all right,” Charlie offered, but his words fell flat and dissolved into the silence between them.
After several more long minutes, Lydia chanced a glance out the window again. “How long do you think Sir Henry will be?”
Charlie lifted a shoulder. “Honestly, I haven’t a clue. If Lucas is in there, he should not be long.”
The door to the club reopened, and Lydia was about to duck away from the window when she recognized the face. “He is back. Your brother is not with him.”
But as she watched, another man and then another came out of the shadows—whether from the building or outside it, Lydia could not tell, but in a moment they were there, and the instant Sir Henry noticed them, they attacked.
“Charlie!” Lydia cried.
“What?”
She grabbed for the door handle. “Sir Henry is being attacked!”
“What?” He jumped to his feet, hitting his head on the top of the carriage, then pushed past her and out the door.
