“I do not know,” Charlotte answered beside him. “It has been here for as long as I can remember.” She turned her gaze to the men, and they agreed.
“Who owns it?” he asked.
“The town of Croydon I would imagine,” she supplied.
“So…your father,” he deduced as if he were playing chess and he just took her king in checkmate.
“That is good news for you, Detective,” she pointed out, walking around the large table. “He will no doubt approve of you using it.”
“Good,” he said, hoping she was right. “Now, the duke said he was sending over more pistols, but I don’t know when. We need a few things today.”
Colin and William told him of every weapons shop in town. There were three. Good. They would go to them later.
“We’ll need a locksmith for keys to the cells and—”
The list went on and on. He was going to be busy today. Perhaps too busy to keep an eye on her.
He didn’t want her sneaking off to try to visit snooty Lord Sutton. But he imagined it was all she thought about doing since they were alleged good friends and he’d been shot…by him, her what? Possible future boyfriend? Of course, notthatfar into the future. He would let her go but the roads were too dangerous. Did thieves rob thieves in the eighteenth century? He realized she wasn’t new at this. No one got a ring off a man’s finger without notice if he…or she, wasn’t skilled. But there were other things besides thieves out there. Rapists. Murderers.
Turning to look at her—he raised his eyes from a dusty chair and met her gaze. They both smiled. She was exquisite. He never thought he’d say that about a woman, but she was. When she looked at him with her large, dark eyes and her chestnut hair spilling down her shoulders, he wanted to stare at her forever. He felt entranced, consumed, utterly lost to the fresh, outdoorsy scent of her, the dulcet sound of her, and, oh, the sight of her.
“Tomorrow,” he began, knowing for sure that he’d lost his mind, “I’ll deliver you to your friend Preston’s home in Sutton. I’ll stay in the nearest village and await you there, then bring you back home. Okay?”
Her smile widened. “Okay.”
Things were happening between them. He didn’t want to keep his hands or his mouth off her. She made him feel stupidly happy for no reason at all. He hadn’t felt that way since he was a kid, and he liked keeping it behind him. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He’d learned that life gives you good days and then kicks you in the gut, cutting off your air, bringing you to your knees. He thought he was safely guarded to never go soft again. How had she managed to get under his skin? A thief, no less! How could he let her?
All he knew was he was glad when her father said he still wanted Michael to keep an eye on her. What a pitiful fool he had become. He almost laughed.
“Are you boys hungry?” she asked them. Of course, they all enthusiastically told her they were. She offered to go to buy some fruit and bread at the market.
“Take Colin with you,” he told her.
“Michael, trust me. You have given me no reason to run off.”
His expression warmed on her. “For some wine. So he can carry it.”
She laughed softly at herself. Was this what she did to other men? With her mouth so perfectly fashioned to smile, he doubted anyone knew how bored she really was. Did her dark eyes dance and look off coyly, half-hidden under a spray of lashes for all men? If so, how could they all not be in love with her?
It wasn’t real with anyone else. She was real with him. Wasn’t she?
“Colin?” he called out before they left the hall. “Bring me some water.”
He didn’t want to get drunk and he knew if he started drinking, he would continue. He hadn’t thought about quitting. He thought he needed it to get through the day, but he didn’t. He needed his life back and he felt as if he were finally finding it again. He was afraid to let go and trust it. Trust her. Everyone lied. She lied, but about how much? So much had changed. The era in which he lived had changed. It was a new day, maybe a new beginning. And if it was, he wanted it with her.
“What do you two know about Charlotte?” He wasn’t sure if it was right to ask, but he was sewn together with investigating thread. Asking questions was what he did.
He discovered that Charlotte was well loved by the town’s people. She was very close with Lord Sutton, Preston Bristol III, who was also well loved by many. And how did the rest feel about him? They were afraid of him.
“Why are they afraid of him?” Michael pressed but the men didn’t know. He thought Gerald appeared uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, his eyes darting from Michael to the entrance of the hall—as if he were about to make a run for it.
Michael kept an observant eye on him.
“What about these Horsemen?” he asked them next. “Know anything about them?”
William was the first to speak. “Other than that there are six of them and—”
“Six?” Michael questioned. “I thought there were four.”
