He did know. Those nefarious events had nearly cost both him and Tessa their lives. Since then, Tessa’s grandfather, Bartholomew Black, King of the Underworld, had been rebuilding his kingdom, but alliances between cutthroats were always tenuous.
“I want to help Grandpapa maintain the peace,” she said.
“You are helping him,” Harry countered. “You’re doing splendidly as the Duchess of Covent Garden.”
To reward Tessa for her loyalty, Black had given her one of his underworld territories to oversee and the ceremonial title that went with it. Tessa took the responsibilities to heart. She protected her people, especially the women and children who would otherwise have no one to look after their interests. While authorities might turn a blind eye to the suffering of the lower orders, blaming the poor for their own misery, she did not.
She stood up against the drunken lord beating the whore. The pimp who lured children into his den. The man who beat his wife in the street. Thus, Harry had his hands full keepinghersafe. But it was worthy work, and he admired Tessa for her mettle…most of the time.
“I do my best,” she said modestly. “I’ve heard rumors of a possible new uprising, however.”
His shoulders tensed against the pillows. Goddamnit, would peace ever last?
“Involving whom?” he asked tersely.
“That’s just it: I don’t know.” In the dimness, her eyes glowed with frustration. “My sources say the leader has deep pockets and controls many in society because they are indebted to him.”
Harry understood. “A moneylender. You think it’s Garrity or Sweeney?”
She nodded. “Garrity has fought on our side, but he’s a snake—no offense to Gabby.”
Adam Garrity’s wife, Gabriella, was a friend of Tessa and Harry’s. Neither understood the match between the sweet, guileless redhead and the wicked usurer. Yet it was clear that Gabby adored her husband.
“And Sweeney?” Harry asked. “What do you know about him?”
“Not enough. But his sudden rise to prominence worries me. He arrived in London just over a year ago, and tales of his cruelty and violence already abound.”
“Thus, you want to invite Garrity and Sweeney to a parley,” he concluded, “because you want to see which one of them could be instigating a rebellion?”
“I need to know who is loyal to my grandfather and who is not.”
“These are dangerous men, sprite. In your condition—”
“You know I’m indelicately hale and healthy. And I’ll have you to protect me.”
It was true that pregnancy hadn’t affected Tessa very much. She ate like a horse and carried on as usual—that is, with a surfeit of feminine energy. Since that energy was beyond delightful in bed, Harry couldn’t complain.
“All right,” he decided. “But at the first sign of trouble, you’ll withdraw from this and leave Ransom to deal with his own problems.”
“Thank you, darling.” She kissed his jaw, then his neck. “I knew you’d understand.”
“What about Mrs. Foley? Is befriending her part of your scheming as well?”
“Oh no.” Tessa’s hand was wandering in an interesting direction.
“Then why,”—he had to pause to think when her fingers trailed delicately over his flexing abdomen—“did you invite her to the ball?”
“Because she seemed perfectly lovely. I liked her. Didn’t you?”
“Didn’t I…what?”God, his wife’s touch. He was already stiff and throbbing.
Tessa giggled when he rolled on top of her. “I thought you wanted me to say more.”
“You have a more pressing matter to attend to,” he told her.
He dragged his erection along her drenched petals. Her laughter melted into a moan. And thoughts of dukes and cutthroats were temporarily abandoned as they took care of more important matters.
27
