“Devil and damn, sweetheart.” His gaze heating, he reached for her, rolling her beneath him. “You’re going to make me late for my appointment.”
Thirty-One
“You’re late,” Swinburne said by way of greeting when Hawk arrived at Garland’s.
“Pardon.” Hawk took his seat at the table, where the rest of the Quorum and Inspector Sterling were already gathered. “Couldn’t be helped.”
“Awful chipper for this time of day, aren’t you?” Devlin leaned insouciantly back in his chair. “What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing.” Hawk refused to take the bait.
Devlin smirked. “I know what it is. You’ve the look of a newlywed who has enjoyed a rather good morning.”
“Devlin,” Hawk growled, “I’m warning you—”
“Enough.” Swinburne pushed to his feet. “Might I remind you gentlemen that we have urgent business to deal with?”
Devlin started it.Having no intention of sounding like a bloody schoolboy, Hawk bit back his retort. Christ, the bastard knew how to get under his skin. While he could take Devlin’s underhanded jibes, he would not allow the other to dishonor Fiona in any fashion.
Protectiveness surged through him as he thought of his wife’s aching vulnerability. He understood all too well those unfounded feelings of being a fraud; defying logic and facts, the beliefs caused anxiety and self-doubt. That Fiona had trusted him enough to share her inner workings gratified and humbled him.
So this is love,he thought with a ripple of awe.
Over their hurried breakfast, Fiona had also mentioned running into Melinda Ayles at the ball last night. She’d commented on Melinda’s about-face, saying that Hawk’s former mistress had not only complimented her on her looks but had made an effort to be friendly.
“Lady Ayles’s face looked like it might crack from the force of her smile.”Fiona had given him a suspicious look.“Did you say something to her?”
Knowing how proud and independent Fiona was, Hawk hadn’t been sure how she would respond to his intervention. Warily, he had replied that he’d made clear to Lady Ayles that he would not countenance her bothering Fiona in the future. To his surprise, his wife had risen from her chair, thrown her arms around his neck, and kissed him soundly.
“I could have dealt with her myself.”Fiona’s face had been wreathed in smiles.“But it was ever so lovely of you to take the initiative.”
She had acted as if he’d given her a priceless piece of jewelry instead of merely handling a problem for which he felt responsible. Damn, but she was more complex than an analytic engine…and he would gladly spend the rest of his life trying to understand the fascinating intricacies of who she was. To love and shield her from life’s pain.
“Trent, Hawksmoor. Why don’t you begin by giving us a summary of what you saw of the Auberville attack,” Swinburne instructed.
Reality returned as Trent’s succinct account blanketed the room with silence. Hawk saw his own sense of failure carved in the others’ stony expressions. He relived the instant when Lady Auberville’s last breath had left her, the heaviness of holding on as life slipped away. He flashed to the moment he’d found Caroline lying on her bed, the empty bottle of laudanum lolling on the ground where it’d fallen from her limp fingers. The clawing panic as he’d held her, tried to revive her, begged her to come back.
“I spoke with Auberville’s heir, Lord Godfrey, this morning,” Inspector Sterling said somberly. “He is enraged over what happened, of course. Against the advice of my superiors, he is issuing a five-hundred-pound reward for the capture of the Sherwood Band. In his words, ‘breathing or not.’”
“Five hundred pounds?” Swinburne uttered an oath. “Every cutthroat in London will come out of the woodwork for that sum. They won’t care whose heads they bring in as long as they get their money. This will fan the very flames of anarchy that we’re trying to put out.”
“That is what we told Lord Godfrey, but he won’t listen,” Sterling said. “He says if the police can’t do something to stop the attacks, then he will.”
“God save us from blue bloods with more money than sense,” Trent muttered. “Can you buy us any time, Sterling? The attack last night may have turned the tide in our favor. The gang made a grievous mistake when they resorted to violence. While working-class folk may have supported a Robin Hood brand of justice, they won’t condone the murder of a lady known for her charitable works and who was a grandmama, at that. Public opinion is turning against these criminals; once the streets are no longer a refuge, we’ll be able to flush the bastards out.”
“I will do my best.” Sterling straightened his narrow shoulders, his tone apologetic. “My voice does not carry much weight, I’m afraid. Especially since we don’t have much progress to share.”
“As to that,” Hawk cut in. “We do have a new lead. Two leads, in point of fact.”
All eyes turned to him.
“Go on,” Swinburne said.
“When I found Auberville in the carriage, he described the exchange between him and the man we may presume to be Martin Wheatley. When told to hand over his valuables, Auberville said that he would see Wheatley hanged in Newgate first. And Wheatley apparently replied that he was never going back.”
“Crikey.” Trent sat up. “You think this Wheatley is an ex-convict?”
“The police have already considered that possibility.” Sterling frowned. “As you know, I have personally gone through the files of ex-prisoners charged with robberies, and none matched the profile of the Sherwood leader. From what I recall, the name Wheatley was not amongst them.”
