A furrow appeared between Coyner's brows. "You're certain of this?"
Ambrose gave a terse nod, his heart pounding.
"And you've no other suspicious activity to report on?"
"No, sir."
Coyner's gaze flickered, his expression unreadable. "As I said, less than nothing to go on. Unless the client decides to come forward, I'm afraid the case is closed. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Kent. If anything else comes up, you'll be the first to know."
As much as Ambrose wanted to leave it at that, he knew he could not. He could not be involved with both Marianne and this investigation. And he'd come today because he couldn't fool himself any longer about where his loyalties had inexplicably fallen.
"Sir, about that." He cleared his throat. "Should circumstances merit the continuation of this case, I'm afraid I would no longer be available for the job."
"And why not?"
The truth burned on his tongue. Yet to tell of his involvement with Marianne would compromise her safety; it did not escape him that, as of now, he was her sole alibi. His word stood between her and condemnation for a crime he did not believe her capable of committing. But whyhadshe been at Leach's? The timing of her visit and the solicitor's murder was too damned coincidental.
"I shall be committing my time to other work," he said.
"That so?" The other man's jaw tightened, his features lining with disapproval. "Can't say I'm happy to hear it. I must hasten to remind you of our agreement, Kent."
"Sir?"
"When I hire a man on, I expect that he will value Bow Street's commitment to confidentiality no matter the length of his employ. The fact that you're withdrawing your services doesn't negate your promise to me."
Ambrose's throat tightened. Given his dishonorable actions, his discretion was the least he could offer. "Yes. Of course."
The magistrate's moustache bristled, his eyes suspicious slits. "I mean it, Kent. You breathe word of this case to anyone, and you'll never work for Bow Street—or any other agency—again." He paused, no doubt to let his threat sink in. "As you know, Magistrate Dalrymple and I are cronies."
Ambrose gave a bleak nod.
"Well. I'll let your superiors know you'll be returning to duty on the morrow." Returning to his desk, Coyner began shuffling papers, a clear sign of dismissal.
Ambrose left the office and started the trek back to his room in Cheapside. As he walked along the street, he took scarce notice of the hawkers' raucous calls. His chest throbbed with shame. For the first time in his life, he'd knowingly dishonored his duty. He'd kept Marianne's visit to Leach a secret when his oath as a policeman demanded that he tell the truth.
Your emotions are getting in the way. You cannot let yourself be swayed by your attraction to her. Go back, tell Coyner—
But he… could not. Because the devil in him protested her innocence, would do anything to safeguard her from accusations that could result in her swinging from the gallows. His gut knotted. He had only one option: he had to discover her secrets for himself. What information had she been after at Leach's? If she hadn't killed Leach, who had?
He climbed the steep steps of his tenement. He'd wash his face, change his clothes, then search out Marianne and get the truth. As he approached his room, he saw a footman leaning negligently against the peeling door. Ambrose recognized the blue and silver livery immediately.
"Mr. Kent?" the footman said.
"Yes?"
"My lady sends you this." Bowing, the servant handed over a note.
Pulse thudding, Ambrose brushed his thumb against the silky lavender wax seal that bore the initial "M". He broke it open. At the sight of its contents, disbelief surged… with fury swift on its heels.
Goddamn her.The note crumpled in his fist.
18
"Thankyou for seeing me on such short notice, Amelie," Marianne said as she entered the orchid dressing room. With interest, she eyed the colorful bolts piled upon the large work table. "New shipment?"
"Mais oui.One must stay abreast of the trends. Now I gather there is an element of urgency?"
"Of the utmost. I am to attend Lady Auberville's soiree in two days, and I must be dressed to the nines. Indeed, I find myself in need of a new wardrobe—the latest fashions for the remainder of the Season."
