Walking back out to the carriage with his cloak flapping around his legs, Forrest wondered what the hell had just happened. He’d known some of what his cousins did and had worried when they left the house at random hours. Then there was the business with their women. Dimity had been kidnapped, Beth had apparently been a spy, and Freya’s uncle had been kidnapped by some radical rebellious group.
“Well, cousin?” Zach asked. He took off his cloak and bundled it into a ball and settled it behind his neck.
“He’s an imposing man.”
“Geraint?”
Forrest nodded.
“I suppose he is; he’s just always been there, so we’re used to him,” Nathan said.
“What’s his story?” Forrest asked.
“No idea. He’s loyal to the king, but we have nothing further on him,” Michael said. “But as he is privy to our monarch’s innermost workings, that would suggest he’s high up in the order of things.”
“We must find this Merchant,” Forrest said. “I think of what I would do for Ella, and how much pain something like this happening to her would cause me. I am almost relieved Mr. Khatri does not yet know of his daughter’s fate.”
“Yes, I would go mad if it was a child of mine,” Gabe agreed.
Forrest then listened as they talked about what they had learned today, and the steps they would take to find this beast who would harm the innocent for his and others pleasure.
He couldn’t ignore the flash of excitement he’d felt when he’d been in that church. Felt the power and secrecy and knew he was now part of something that dated back hundreds of years. Him. Forrest Howarth. The man who had lived his life in India and married the woman he believed would be comfortable. A woman who had lost her mind after the birth of her child and never reclaimed it.
They stopped at the Speckled Hen, which was apparently tradition. The waitress had straw-blonde hair and ample breasts.
“I have a ravishing hunger, Letty,” Zach said.
“Well now, I’ve not heard you say that before.”
“You know him so well,” Gabe drawled.
They ordered food and ale.
“How often are you called to your duty?” Forrest asked when the waitress had left.
“We can go months and hear nothing,” Michael said. “Other times sooner.”
“It’s like you can’t walk anywhere in London these days and not fall over a Deville or their kin,” a deep voice said.
The three men who now stood beside their table were known to Forrest through his cousins.
“So, it’s true then?” Nathan said. “Marquesses do walk about in a gaggle, and their leader is a duke.”
The Marquesses of Braithwaite and Levermarch were with the Duke of Rossetter.
If Zach could be annoying upon occasion, he was also a font of knowledge. He had taken it upon himself to tell Forrest who everyone was when they went out into society and who they were connected to. Forrest had an excellent memory for detail.
“Move over then, and we shall sit, and you can bask in our magnificence. After all, a duke and two marquesses will always trump an earl,” Lord Levermarch said.
When he’d first met the titled and powerful men his cousins were friends with, he’d been surprised that some were not as pompous as he’d thought they would be. But still, to be seated at a table in a dark and dingy tavern frequented by sailors and those that undertook manual labor in the illustrious company he was keeping was unsettling.
He did not know the duke well. Had met him a few times, along with his wife. His eyes went to the duke’s ring as he folded his hand on the table before him.
“A story of an alarming nature reached me yesterday,” the Marquess of Braithwaite said. “As you know, my sister and I have houses around London for children to frequent should they need a place to stay.”
These were some of those with wealth and power that were doing good for those that had nothing.
“We do,” Zach said.
