The traitor’s name.
“Oh, you bloody, bloody bastard,” whispered Wrexford, his blood turning to ice—and then to fire.
“But, by God, I’ve finally got you.”
CHAPTER 18
The earl dropped the letter onto the desktop and moved to the window.
Tyler hesitated, then picked it up.
“Ye gods.” He blew out his breath and then read the name aloud.
“The Earl of Taviot.”
“Charlotte has already sent word asking Cordelia and Kit to come here,” said the earl without turning around. “Dispatch a second message to Kit and ask him to bring Taviot’s letter and the contracts from the consortium.” Having another few samples of the miscreant’s handwriting should confirm Taviot’s guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“Should we also summon Henning?” suggested the valet. “We’ll need to decide how to bring Lord Taviot to justice, and given that the dastard is not without power or influence within the highest circles of Society, we ought to assemble our trusted inner circle for a council of war.”
“That—” began Wrexford.
“That means you need to include Aunt Alison,” came a muffled voice from the adjoining library. Raven pushed the door all the way open. “Andus.”
Hawk and Peregrine, who were standing just behind him, nodded in solemn agreement.
“Bloody hell, you imps of Satan know damn well that eavesdropping is against the house rules,” snapped Wrexford.
“It’snotbreaking the rules if it wasn’t intentional,” countered Raven. “The door was half open. We couldn’t help overhearing the conversation.”
Wrexford swore again on realizing that it was he who had failed to click the latch shut after fetching a book earlier in the morning.
Taking the oath as a signal to press his point, Raven added, “M’lady says that keeping each other in the dark about what dangers are threatening our family and friends can lead to disaster. So we need to know what’s going on.”
His chin angled to a defiant tilt. “Surely you can’t deny that we’ve been of help in catching other bloody, bloody bastards?”
“Don’t swear.” Charlotte came to an abrupt halt in the doorway and angled a wary look at Wrexford. “Why are you and the boys talking about catching bloody, bloody bastards?”
Tyler wordlessly handed her the note.
Her face turned as pale as the paper. “Is this—”
“Yes,” answered Wrexford. “It’s from von Münch’s French contact. We have found our traitor—and likely the man behind the murders of both Greeley and the former soldier who set the fire at Maudslay’s laboratory.”
“Merciful heavens.” Charlotte crossed the carpet and sat down rather heavily in one of the leather armchairs after reading the name.
“Tyler just said that we should call for a council of war,” explained Raven. “And I told Wrex that it must include us and Aunt Alison.” A note of challenge gave his words a sharp edge. “She doesn’t like it any better than we do when the two of you try to wrap her in cotton wool because of her age.”
Charlotte stared at him in mute shock. And then surrendered with a sigh. “I—I suppose that I have been over-protective. I’m worried that the recent investigations may have put our family in danger—”
“Our family is used to danger,” piped up Hawk. “We’ve all learned from you and Wrex that Evil mustn’t be allowed to triumph over Good. And that sometimes means we have to take risks.”
“Oiy,” agreed Raven. “It’s who we are.”
“Out of the mouths of babes,” said Wrexford. “Ours is not a conventional family.” His gaze found hers. “Would you have it any other way?”
Her mouth quivered for an instant before slowly curling into a wry smile.
“Never. Which means . . .”
