“My sister is right,” Kent said. “My agency is here to assist, of course, but in this room the two of you are the experts on the Spectre. My lady, do you know his true identity?”
“I have only suspicions.” Exhaling, Pompeia said, “I believe him to be one of ours. That is the only way he would have access to information pertaining to my past activities.”
“Octavian found proof of the same thing. The Spectre was a double agent and one of the Quorum,” Gabriel said flatly.
Her throat rippled as if she were trying to digest the unpalatable piece of information. The telltale sign suggested that she was telling the truth. That she’d been betrayed just like him.
Her gaze thinned. “So if neither one of us is the Spectre…”
“Then we’ve narrowed the field down considerably, haven’t we?” he said coolly.
Thea beamed at both of them. “Then why don’t we put our heads together and capture the villain?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Thea was relieved at the group’s reception of Lady Blackwood. From the nodding of their heads and their looks of concern, Thea could tell that Ambrose and Emma believed the marchioness’ story. Thea sensed that even Gabriel was thawing toward his former comrade… although one would be hard pressed to tell from his demeanor.
He’d once again donned his mask of stoicism. Thea was beginning to see how a career in espionage might have shaped that particular tendency for Lady Blackwood, too, had retreated behind a façade of jaded sophistication. To Thea, the two ex-agents treated each other warily, like alley cats ready to attack if either encroached on the other’s territory.
Emma rang for refreshments, and Thea made her selection from the silver tiers of sandwiches and pastries before sitting next to Gabriel on the couch. He was summarizing the details of the chase through Covent Garden, concluding with the mysterious shooter who’d saved his life.
“You didn’t get a look at him?” Ambrose asked.
Gabriel shook his head. “I saw what might have been the tail of a black greatcoat. It happened too quickly. Whoever he was, he simply vanished.”
“Like a ghost,” Thea murmured.
“Do you think it was the Spectre?” Lady Blackwood’s violet gaze narrowed. “Silencing his own courier? If so, why didn’t he just shoot you instead?”
The thought of Gabriel being that close to harm churned Thea’s belly. He, however, treated his brush with death with utter sangfroid.
“A good question,” he said. “He had a clear shot. If he meant to kill me, I’d be dead.”
“Then we must conclude that whoever this stranger was, he meant to save you. It appears you have a secret benefactor,” Ambrose said. “A friend who wishes to remain anonymous.”
Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “I can’t think of who that might be.”
“Then I suggest we start with the facts we do know and work from there,” Ambrose said. “First, we know that the Spectre is after money. His blackmailing of Lady Blackwood is proof of this. It might also explain why he auctioned off Tremont’s blade.”
“So our suspect has a monetary motive,” Strathaven said with a nod. “What do we know about the financials of Heath and Davenport?”
“From what we’ve gathered, neither appear to be short of funds,” Ambrose admitted.
“The Davenports spend lavishly,” Marianne added, “and Heath inherited a fortune from an uncle—who was in coal, I believe.”
Mulling over the matter, Thea said, “At this point, the Spectre must fear being discovered. Perhaps he is stockpiling money so that he can flee.”
“An excellent point, Miss Kent.” Gabriel’s brows rose.
She heard and saw his surprise. Clearly, it would take time for him to get accustomed to the fact that she meant to be a true partner to him—the way Marianne was to Ambrose and Emma to Strathaven. What little she knew about Gabriel’s past led her to believe that his reluctance to involve her wasn’t because he saw her as weak; it was because he wasn’t used to having support of any kind. Certainly, he hadn’t received much growing up, and from what she’d gleaned, his marriage hadn’t been as ideal as everyone had supposed.
Was it any wonder that trusting didn't come easily for Gabriel?
Yet a relationship without trust was nothing. Thea felt afrissonof anxiety—and pushed it aside.He said he wanted trust to be part of our marriage. Over time, he’ll come to trust me.
Aloud, she said, “If he is indeed desperate for money, then he will likely contact Lady Blackwood again.” She turned to the marchioness. “Your secret may be safe until he gets what he wants.”
Lady Blackwood gave a tight nod.
