He raised his brows and gave her a confused look.
“Must he still keep watch over my every move?”
“Of course, Charlotte,” he said with the remnant of his smile fading. “’Tis been but two days. Anywhere you want to go, he can go with you.”
“Sir?”
“Aye, Detective?” Her father turned to give him an annoyed look, but Michael didn’t ask about her. Was he happy to be stuck with her day and night?
“I need a proper jail, and a police force. Men will need to be trained.”
“Do what you need,” the duke allowed without hesitation. “But we do not usually jail our prisoners. They are hanged.”
“I know,” Michael told him. “And that needs to change.”
“Perhaps,” her father surprisingly agreed. “For now though, catch these Horsemen and I will see them hanged for murder.”
He was serious, Charlotte thought. As was Michael—as they should be. People were dying. An elderly woman had died. No! This had to stop. But she couldn’t give up her friends. She was one of them. One of the worst of them.
She looked at Croydon’s knight and wondered what it would be like to be on his side. But it was too late. She was a criminal. He hated criminals.
“Just do what you are being paid to do. Get the rest of the judges behind you and make even more money. ’Tis up to you. But better off catching them than losing them, aye?”
Michael nodded and her father’s footsteps filled the hall.
Charlotte felt terrible for Michael. It was her fault he’d been admonished by her father. It would be her fault if he lost his position as lawman here. If he ever found out what she had done…what was she to do now? She would think about it. Presently, she was grateful that Sebastian was gone and talk of the Horsemen was over. Somehow, she had to get away from Michael today or tonight and speak to Preston about all of this. Things were going to have to change. The Horsemen were going to have to move north, or south, or wherever! She didn’t care because if they stayed here, Michael was going to catch them.
“I need to find a building I can make into a jail. Know of any empty buildings besides the working mill?” His expression softened on her.
She nodded.
She led the way, so he didn’t see her squeeze her eyes shut as if to fight something from escaping. Would she bring him to Preston and the others this easily?
He put his hand on her shoulder and walked with her, his face tilted to her. “Everything okay?”
And the odd way he spoke—it always made her want to smile. “Aye. I’m just trying to think of ways to help you.”
“Oh, you want to help me catch the bad guys?” he asked, following her down the stairs.
“Of course,” she said, smiling at him over her shoulder. “Why would I not want to help?”
“Because all thieves stand together,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “You won’t give up who you know.”
He was correct. She liked that he knew things about her, that he noticed her loyalty. “Perhaps I want to stand with you now.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and he stopped and stood in front of her, blocking her path. “After two days, you’re ready to stand with me?”
She pushed him out of her way. “Do not mock my affections for you, Detective, or you may never hear them again.”
“All right,” he said, turning to go with her again. “If you’re familiar enough with me to threaten me, I guess you’re able to change your mind so quickly on where you stand.”
“I have not changed it so quickly,” she admitted. “I have done what I have needed to do for Rosie and some others.”
“But you have always known it was wrong?” he urged.
“I knew ’twas wrong in the sense of my father telling me ’twas wrong. I’m still not sure the rich should have it all and the poor, nothing. Their children starve, and no one cares.”
“There are other ways to raise money for the poor.”
