Although Tessa hadn’t slept, she’d done a quick ablution and changed into a frock. Now she and her father occupied chairs across the desk from Grandpapa. Bennett stood next to her, Ming by her grandfather’s side. In the wingchair behind the massive oak desk, Grandpapa looked haggard. He’d left off his wig, his shorn grey head aging him, making him look his three-and-sixty years.
Rage smoldered in his eyes as he looked at the black iron tube on the blotter. Earlier, Bennett, who was familiar with blasting materials from his time as a navvy, had disassembled the device. He’d removed the guts, placed them carefully in a box. To Tessa, the shredded cotton had looked innocuous, but having seen the damage done to the drawing room, her insides had chilled.
“I’ll carve out the guts o’ who’ever did this,” Grandpapa growled. “Use ’em to string ’im up!”
He’d been uttering such threats ever since he’d been summoned home to find that his fortress had been attacked. Two of his guards had been killed protecting the front gate. Thoughts of Ned and Josiah swelled Tessa’s throat. Both men had families, young children now left without a father. She and Grandpapa would go to give their condolences to the grieving widows, to assure them that their families would be looked after, yet no amount of money could replace a loved one.
An evening that had held such promise had ended in tragedy. In her marrow, Tessa felt the shifting tides, the dark and menacing undertow; when she glanced up at Bennett, the trepidation in her heightened. He seemed so distant that the few feet separating them might have been thousands. His expression was once again clad in steel, his gaze as opaque as wood. There was no trace of the passionate lover who’d held her and shown her such exquisite pleasure.
She told herself his reserve was due to the fact that he didn’t want to rouse her family’s suspicions, yet her instincts told her that wasn’t the reason. Bennett could be stoic, yes, but this was more than that. Since the fire, he’d withdrawn into himself, barely uttering a word to her, even while she’d bandaged the superficial burns he’d sustained from fighting the blaze.
Over the past several days when they’d been at odds, he’d shown little of his feelings, but she’d still sensed his focus on her. His attention. Now that was gone: snuffed out like a flame.
What she felt from him was…nothing.
She tried to calm herself. Perhaps it was the aftermath of the life-or-death situation he’d just faced. Or perhaps he was just exhausted from battling the fire.
Or perhaps he regrets making love to you.
Her anxiety burgeoned. She didn’t have the wherewithal to contend with that possibility on top of everything else. An enemy had attacked her family, and she needed to focus on how to protect them. It would be too much to deal with a broken heart as well.
She’d fallen in love with Bennett. That was the way it happened for Blacks: as sudden and powerful as a lightning clap. She’d been struck at last, and she knew, for her as for her grandfather and all the Blacks before him, that there would be no second time.
Inhaling, she twisted her head to look at Bennett again…and her midsection churned.
Steely composure. Eyes that didn’t even see her.
“Leave us, girl.”
Her gaze turned to her father, who waved a hand at her the way one might swat at a fly. He was still dressed in the clothes he’d worn at the baroness’ supper, which seemed like it’d taken place a lifetime ago.
“Got a crisis on our ’ands,” Father snapped, “and you’re in the way.”
She fought the surge of despair. Was this to be her destiny? To spend her life being unwanted?
“I have a right to be here.”I will not be shut out…by any of you.“I am a part of this family, and we face our foes together.”
Her father’s face turned florid. “None o’ your lip, girl, or by God, I’ll—”
“Stop your bloody yammering, Todd!” Grandpapa’s fist hit the desk, the iron tube rocking. “Ain’t got time for this shite. Got a pox-ridden bastard to find and all you can do is flap your gums.”
Tessa bit her lip; her father fell silent, scowling.
“Well, Ming?” Grandpapa addressed his right-hand man. “Who’s the blackguard behind this?”
Ming’s long braid swung slowly side to side. “Not know yet, Mr. Black. Still looking.”
“Well, look ’arder!” Grandpapa roared. “What am I paying you for? My ’ome has been attacked by infidels, and you’re of no more use than a bump on a bleeding log!”
Ming didn’t flinch at his employer’s show of temper. Tessa knew he understood that, beneath Bartholomew Black’s rage, lay the grief of a man who’d failed to protect his own. But seeing the furrows that deepened on the loyal manservant’s forehead, knowing that he, too, had lost comrades this night, Tessa spoke up.
“It’s not Ming’s fault, Grandpapa. Whoever is behind this planned the assault well. The villain struck right before the change of guards, when our security is at its weakest. If Bennett,”—her voice trembled as she said his name, but hopefully no one noticed—“hadn’t caught those villains in the act, they might have set off all their devices and blown up the entire house.”
As it was, only the drawing room had sustained damage. Bennett, assisted by the staff, had managed to put out the flames before they spread farther. He’d even saved the family portraits: they now leaned against the walls of the study, the faces looking out with reproachful stares.
“As to that, missy,”—her grandfather’s eyes burned into her like hot coals—“what inbleeding ’ellwere you and Bennett doing together at that time o’ night?”
Her breath wedged in her throat. Beside her, Bennett went still. With all the chaos, the two of them hadn’t had time to work out a story. One thing she knew for certain: there wasno wayshe could tell her grandparent the truth. She would never endanger Bennett.
