Michael nodded. “Too bad you had to stop for the woman. It’s the best shot we’ve had.”
Collin shrugged. He didn’t exactly agree—after all, the woman he’d helped was Elizabeth—but a shrug wouldn’t raise suspicion about his true feelings. “What’s down this way?” Collin asked as they followed the direction the man had taken.
“A pub a little ways down and a lower-rent district for shops.”
“Let’s try the pub first. Maybe he’s in need of a pint.”
Michael agreed. “Maybe I am too.” He smiled. “Why don’t we split up? I’ll start in the pub, and you can search the streets. We’ll cover more area that way.”
“You just want that pint,” Collin accused good-naturedly.
“I do. It’s been a night for me as well. Laid out my intentions for Miss Essex and all.” He breathed out a long breath. “It’s been a long time coming, and I don’t have time to beat around the bush, so to say.” He shrugged as he turned to Collin.
Collin schooled his features and nodded, then slapped his friend on the back. “The pub is yours, friend,” he said by way of answering.
“I’ll check the back as well and ask around.”
“I’ll return in half an hour,” Collin stated as they paused in front of the Horsehair Pub. Michael went in, and Collin took a moment to reflect on whathad just been said. He’d had no idea, and Elizabeth hadn’t said a word, not that she would, but he rather thought she’d have acted differently if she was planning to allow Michael to court her formally.
How well did he truly know her? Would she choose to disclose that kind of information to him? Likely not, which left him in a fog of confusion. It forced him to think of his own intentions, his own feelings.
And he’d really rather not.
Odd, a few weeks ago, he’d felt nothing. Apathy was his constant companion, and now he was fending off pesky emotions with a proverbial stick. All because of a woman.
But wasn’t it always because of a woman? It was a tale as old as time.
And he was no more immune than the next man.
But that did beg the question: What was he going to do about it? He wasn’t about to court her. He had no intention of marrying, and even if he did, they’d be at each other’s throats constantly.
However, part of that concept was alluring, because Elizabeth was passionate, persistent, and thorough, all good aspects of lovemaking, and he could quite easily imagine those traits put to good use.
But he wanted more than passion. He wanted…
He stopped his thoughts. What was wrong with him? He was in Cambridge to find a criminal, not a wife. And most certainly not Miss Essex, who wasa bluestocking to the core and unsuited for him in nature.
But all those facts didn’t cool his warming to her or squelch his desire to see her again and soon.
He’d just made a friend in Michael, and now he was fighting interest in the woman Michael was actively pursuing.
Good Lord, he was a cad.
And currently a pathetic investigator. He shook his shoulders and focused on the job at hand. Find the man with the black eye, question him, and recover Elizabeth’s satchel.
He made a mental note to keep the satchel out of sight if he did indeed find it. He traveled down the road, searching alleyways and studying the various men in the street with a little too much interest. He earned a few questioning glares as he passed. He was looking down an alley when he noted a rumpled dark object. Curious, he strode forward and picked it up, recognizing it immediately.
Elizabeth’s words came back to him. “They’ll be sorely disappointed when they discover it’s only parchments and a book.”
Apparently the fiend found the satchel more trouble than it was worth for the contents. Collin lifted the leather bag and rifled through it, noting the book was present, but no parchments. A quick scan of the alley revealed a crumpled wad of written pages, and he carefully retrieved them andsmoothed them out. He slipped them into the satchel and fastened it closed. Well, at least he was able to find something. Moreover, its presence here meant that he was going the right direction in searching for the man who had stolen it. He wrapped the satchel’s strap around his shoulder and followed the alleyway into a different street where it spread out. There were a few closed storefronts, a few cheap boardinghouses Michael had already visited. Nothing to catch Collin’s attention. He decided to wait and leaned against the stone wall, kicking a foot up behind him.
After a while, a boy about eight or nine started down the road in his direction. Collin waved the boy over and held up a shilling. “Have you seen a man with a black eye?” he asked.
The boy eyed the shilling and then Collin. “Aye.”
Collin handed over the shilling, and withdrew another. “Where?”
The boy held up two fingers.
