At the constable’s inquiry, Xenia visibly started. “I have nothing to add, sir,” she said quickly.
“You seem well-versed in local lore. Are you perchance related to Mr. Wood who owns the smithy in Chudleigh Crest?” Rawlins’s manner was friendly. “He fixed up my horse when it threw a shoe.”
“No, I’m not a relation.” She wetted her lips. “I came from London recently and heard about Bloody Thom during my visits to Chuddums.”
“Ah, well. That explains it.” The constable turned to the group. “May I suggest we have a seat and discuss other possibilities?”
They arranged themselves in the seating area. As Gigi distributed the tea, Ethan considered how he could maneuver her out of the room. The last thing he needed was for his sister to get embroiled in the situation.
“Forget it, Ethan.” Gigi’s gaze remained on the cup she was filling with expert precision. “I’m not leaving, and if you make me, I will eavesdrop.”
Since he was not one to fight a losing battle, he decided to let the matter go.
“Now, my lord.” Rawlins took out a notebook. “You were saying you believed someone might have perpetrated this hoax. Do you have a suspect in mind?”
“More than one,” Ethan said grimly. “I’ll begin with the bounder who accosted Mrs. Wood ten days ago at the mop fair.”
“How frightful.” Gigi gasped. “Are you all right, Mrs. Wood?”
“Nothing happened,” Xenia assured her. “His lordship arrived in time and beat the bounder to a pulp.”
The admiration in her pretty brown eyes puffed out his chest. He’d been the object of female adulation before, when his piano playing had made him a celebrity. But he’d never experienced a woman adoring him for beinghimself. Although Xenia was undoubtedly acquainted with his flaws, she still looked at him as if he could hang stars in the sky for her…and it made him want to do it.
To be her hero—to protect and cherish her.
He cleared his throat and looked away, afraid of giving away too much.
“The blackguard threatened to make me pay for my interference,” he said.
Rawlins’s pencil was poised. “Do you have his name?”
“Patrick Harlow. He claimed to be the head of the Corrigans.”
Rawlins’s gaze sharpened. “You’ve made a powerful enemy, my lord. The Corrigans run the docks in Chuddums and specialize in everything from extortion to robbery. We also suspect they’re behind a rash of house burglaries and the theft of a fortune in jewels, but we’ve never been able to pin anything on them. Slippery as lampreys, they are.”
“I will not be intimidated by a bunch of ruffians,” Ethan stated.
“Harlow, in particular, has a ruthless reputation,” the constable warned. “It’s rumored that he instigated a coup against the former gang leader, a fellow named Vickery. A few months ago, Vickery disappeared and has never been seen again.”
“If Harlow has a problem with me,” Ethan said, “I will deal with him man-to-man.”
“Are you certain that’s wise?” Canning aimed a meaningful glance at Gigi.
“There’s no shame in retreat, old chap,” Parkhurst murmured. “Maybe you ought to return to London until the trouble blows over?—”
“This is my goddamned home, and I’m not leaving.” Ethan bristled at the idea of being chased from his own estate. “I will, however, hire some guards from London. Round-the-clock surveillance ought to take care of any further mischief the Corrigans might have planned. As for Gigi?—”
“I am not leaving either.” His sister lifted her chin. “I will not abandon you in your time of need, and you cannot make me. If you send me away, I will only sneak back.Ad Finem Fidelis.”
He exhaled through his nose. The idea of Gigi traveling on her own was too terrifying to contemplate, and she wasn’t one to make idle threats.
“If you stay, you will obey me,” he told her.
“Of course, brother dear.” Her smile was that of an angel. “Your word is my command.”
He snorted.
“Allow me to investigate the Corrigans’ involvement, my lord,” Rawlins said. “I must advise you not to confront them directly. For your own safety.”
