“I will see to it at once, my lord.”
“Excellent. How is the foot, Haven?”
“Much improved, thank you, my lord.”
As he spent much of his time locked away inside this house so prying eyes could not see him, he was usually found talking to one of his staff. They knew him well as he did them. Some nights they played cards or charades, which he was terrible at, or they sat with him and drank tea, while usually eating something superb that Polly baked.
Once, boredom had made him ask her to teach him to bake scones. They’d been passable, if he said so himself. He now baked when she’d let him in her kitchen.
“A missive has arrived for you, my lord.”
He took the paper his butler held out.
“Enjoy your evening, Lord Montgomery.”
“Highly unlikely, but thank you for the sentiment, Haven.”
“I will have Polly leave a plate of ginger biscuits in your room.”
His mouth was already watering. “I would be grateful. Forgive me for my mood.”
“Not at all.” The butler bowed.
Stepping out his door into the dark night once more, he headed to his carriage.
“Good evening, my lord.” His driver stood with the door open.
“Good evening, Lenny.”
“I learned a new card game in the stables, my lord. It’s my belief you’ll enjoy it.”
“I’ll look forward to you teaching me it tomorrow night then, Lenny.”
Monty climbed inside, and the door was shut. His carriage was hideous. The door was embossed in gold with his family crest, and the seats had recently been re-covered in scarlet velvet with gold stitching. He felt ill just looking at them. The scent of lavender made him want to gag.
“Why the hell did I choose that smell to embrace?”
The carriage rolled toward the Raine town house.
Why was he so unsettled with his life now? He’d been living it for years, after all. It wasn’t just because he hadn’t found his parents’ killers. There was more to it than that. He blamed Mary.
Mary Blake had been his only friend outside the walls of his home, as she, too, worked undercover for Alexius. Highly irregular, as she was a woman, but effective. Last year she’d married her love, a Deville brother.
The Deville family, or the men at the least, who were also members of Alexius, had found out he was living a double life. Since then, they’d become friends.
Monty prided himself on not showing emotion; he had learned to be cold and hard. He didn’t get close to people, but the Devilles were persistent and had changed that.
Lately, he felt as if a few cracks were forming in his hard shell.
And that will never do. He’d learned what happened when you cared too deeply, and years of reminding himself of that had taken its toll. Monty’s heart was encased in ice.
Or it had been.
He must never forget the pain of his childhood.
In the dark recesses of his mind, he knew it was foolish to think every person he cared about would be taken from him, but it was how he felt.
Staring out the window, Monty watched familiar buildings pass, feeling only dread inside him for what he must do again this evening.
