“The few rioters caught were transported,” Mr Daventry said. “I’ll have an agent gather their names and see if there’s a connection between them. But the unrest didn’t begin with the Days of May. Men have been plotting to overthrow the government since before King William took the throne.”
“Yes, for more than a decade,” Gabriel added, before mentioning Justin Lovelace. “Did the coroner find anything in the dead man’s pockets?”
“Nothing but a few coins in his purse.”
A silence followed. Talk of riots and treason had Gabriel shifting in his seat, the drum of his fingers on the armrestbetraying the urge to move, to act, to chase the truth wherever it led.
“There’s one question that demands an answer,” he said, turning to Olivia. “Sir Randall is a generous man, but how did Mrs Hodge come to own two cottages in World’s End?”
“Her sister left her a small inheritance.” Mrs Hodge had made a point of saying she’d bought the properties for a bargain price. “Few people want to live beside a graveyard.”
He frowned. “How did you come to hear of the property?”
“The poem mentioned World’s End and a graveyard, so I visited every burial ground along that road, believing the key would open a crypt. When I found the cottage standing empty, Mrs Hodge appeared, and we got talking. She offered to let it for a modest sum. Living there gave me more time to search the burial grounds.”
She had gone seeking the poem’s meaning and found only her own folly. Mrs Hodge’s appearance could not have been chance. Had the woman warned her attacker?
A chill threaded through her thoughts. Time was against them. They were missing a vital piece of the puzzle, and someone was willing to kill them to find it.
Conduit Street
Mayfair
Olivia glanced at the elegant facade of Sir Randall Ferguson’s townhouse and dared to make the suggestion she knew Gabriel would dismiss before she’d uttered the last syllable.
“After what you learnt this afternoon, I think it best you introduce me as one of Mr Daventry’s enquiry agents.”
Gabriel arched a brow as he helped her down from the carriage. “You’re my wife. No foolish errand for your father will change that.”
“But I committed a criminal act,” she whispered, mindful of passers-by. “I could be transported if the truth came to light.”
Though her feet were planted firmly on the pavement, he didn’t release her hand but drew her close, impossibly close. “We’re all one step away from breaking the law. I’d hurt any man who threatened you. Besides, no one can prove you gave the coachman the letter without implicating themselves. The act served one purpose. To buy your father’s silence.”
It seemed he’d considered the matter carefully.
“You’re not disappointed you married a fool?”
He tutted softly. “A fool wouldn’t have read the letter and memorised its contents. A fool would be walking around blindly, not searching for answers.”
“Is there anything I could say to make you regret marrying me?” Every moment spent with him only reinforced that she had made the right decision.
His tepid smile said there was. “Don’t ever profess to love me and disappear the same night.”
A vision of the incomparable Miss Bourne entered her mind, and she dismissed it at once. How did one prove one’s loyalty?
“Give me your thumb.” While she relished his baffled expression, she took the pin from her bonnet, removed her glove, and stabbed the pad of her own thumb. A scarlet drop formed. It might be the only part of herself she would ever give to him. “Let us make another pact. On my oath, I willnever leave Studland Park without discussing it with you first.”
Mildly amused, he took the pin and pricked his own thumb. “You broke the pact of friendship when you kissed me. What’s to say you won’t break this one?”
“We broke the pact of friendship to test the boundaries.” She pressed her thumb to his, their blood mingling, warm and binding.
His eyes darkened to inky pools as he stared at the crimson stain. “I believe that’s the most erotic thing a woman has ever done to me, and in the street, no less.”
“With a harem at home, I find that surprising. And it’s hard to comment when my list of erotic experiences is limited.”
“Permit me to rectify that.” He held her captive with his gaze as he drew her thumb into his mouth and sucked it clean.
Desire unfurled in her belly. The need to feel the glide of his mouth over every inch of her body made it hard to breathe.
