“I’m sorry, Kit,” responded the earl. “But we’ll need more than that.”
“Can’t we ask Griffin to do some investigating?” asked Sheffield.
“And give him what to go on?” The earl made a face. “The only bones Griffin cares about are the ones on his supper plate. Unless you can put more meat on the ones you’re offering . . .” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
Their friend blinked. “So, you won’t help me?”
“We didn’t say that,” answered Charlotte quickly. “Of course we’ll make some inquiries. But without any clearer idea of where or why, I fear we’ll be stumbling around in the dark. Is there nothing else you can tell us?”
Sheffield held himself very still for a long moment and then abruptly got to his feet. “Thank you. I won’t take up any more of your time.”
“Bloody hell,” muttered Wrexford as their friend kicked the door shut on his way out.
Charlotte heard the hint of pain beneath his exasperation. His gruffness hid a deep loyalty to his friends, and she sensed that Sheffield’s obvious disappointment had cut him to the quick.
“You mustn’t feel guilty, Wrexford,” she counseled. “Right now, he’s caught up in a maelstrom of emotions. You were right to press him on the facts. Without some sort of solid information, it’s hard to know how to help.” The lamp flame shivered. “I, too, am very fond of Lady Cordelia. But we both know she’s not afraid of taking risks—or of breaking whatever rules are necessary to achieve her goal.”
“Lady Cordelia wouldneverbe involved in anything evil.” Raven suddenly appeared in the doorway, a wraithlike shadow silhouetted against the darkness of the corridor. He lifted his chin. “I’m sure of it.”
Charlotte felt her heart lurch, all thought of chiding him for eavesdropping chased away by the look on his face. “I fear it’s not that simple, sweeting. There are times . . .”Oh, how to explain it?“There are times when a choice isn’t a clear-cut one between good and evil.”
Raven blinked, his sharp features pinching in disbelief as he shot a glare at Wrexford. “D’you think she’s guilty?”
“You’ve grown up on the streets, lad,” replied the earl, “and have seen that life rarely gives us the luxury of seeing the world in black and white. What m’lady means is that sometimes we’re forced to find our way through a confusing muddle of greys.”
Thank you, Wrexford, she thought, flashing him a grateful look.
“You heard Mr. Sheffield. He doesn’t think her capable of evil,” retorted Raven.
“Mr. Sheffield has certain feelings for Lady Cordelia,” said Wrexford. “His judgment is colored by his emotions—”
“Love makes us see the best in those for whom we care,” interjected Charlotte. “Even if circumstances have forced them to be less than we wish them to be.”
Raven drew a shuddering breath. “So you’re not going to try to prove her innocent?”
“Of course we’ll look into her disappearance,” said Charlotte. “But given the facts we know—”
“The facts all said your cousin was guilty as sin!” exclaimed Raven, his voice rising to a near shout. “But you refused to accept it could be true.”
The accusation was like a knife stab to the heart. “You’re right. I didn’t give up, and nor shall any of us do so in this case.” Two quick strides brought her close enough to enfold the boy in a fierce hug.
“We will do our best, sweeting, I promise you that.” His bony shoulders felt sharp as knife blades against her chest.So hard, and yet as fragile.“But you must steel your heart for the fact that it might not be good enough.”
He stepped back, looking very small and uncertain in the flitting shadows. “I think you’re wrong. So . . . so . . .” Fisting his hands, he spun around and darted away into the darkness.
She stared at the ink-black shadows, wishing she could force them to surrender their secrets. “Lud, as if I needed life to become any more complicated,” she whispered.
“Speaking of which,” said the earl, “there was something else you wished to discuss with me.”
“Never mind that now,” replied Charlotte, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed to think straight. “I fear Raven won’t leave this alone. I must think about how to keep him—and Hawk—from getting into any real trouble.”
“Leave the Weasels to me,” said Wrexford.
She mustered a smile of thanks, but trepidation quickly squeezed it from her lips.
He sat in silence, and though she looked away, Charlotte felt his gaze probing, probing.Damnation.How was it that he always seemed to see more than she wished to reveal?
“You know, sharing worries helps to rob them of their power,” he murmured. “I would hope that by now you would trust me to confide what else is troubling you.”
