Ravenwood’s expression tightened, and for the briefest moment something fierce flashed in his eyes. They eased the man into the carriage and laid him carefully along the seat. They braced him as best they could for the upcoming journey. Ravenwood spoke in clipped instructions to his driver keeping his voice low and Vivy could not catch every word.
Then he turned and offered his hand again. “Get in.”
Lavinia hesitated. “You cannot expect me to…” This would be quite scandalous. Surely, he realized that. It was one thing to have a quiet conversation where the entire ton could see them, but to actually leave with him? To travel in a carriage to some unknown destination… She’d be ruined.
“I can,” he said, and there was no room in his tone for argument. She sighed. Well…that was the trouble with spies. They did things no normal person would and expected those around them to do the same.
Vivy climbed into the carriage and was careful not to jostle the injured man. Ravenwood followed and settled onto the seat opposite her. He seemed to think that he could force order onto the chaos that had descended upon them by the sheer discipline and control.
Once they were settled, the carriage started to move and it was then she decided to ask some questions. He may be a spy, and she did not doubt that at all—if she ever had—but that did not mean she would follow him blindly. Vivy stared at him as her heart hammered inside her chest. “Where are we going?” she demanded. “And who is he?” She may have heard his name and that confirmed he was part of this spy network, but she did not know him. This man was not of the aristocracy.
Ravenwood stared at the injured man. His attention remained on him for several heartbeats. As if he believed if he looked away the man would cease breathing. He looked up only after a long moment, but his face was composed into something unreadable. “We are going somewhere safe,” he said at last.
“That is not an answer.” How could she find him so frustrating and exhilarating all at once?
“It is all you will receive for now.”
Stubborn arse of a man… Vivy’s temper flared, sharp and hot. “I am tired of your obnoxious behavior. If I wanted to spend time with an arrogant brute I could visit my father.” Thankfully, the duke was usually too busy to pay attention to his two daughters. They spent most of their time in the company of their mother.
Ravenwood glared at her and said in a harsh tone, “If you were at home, you would be safer.” He inhaled sharply. “This is something you never should have thrown yourself into. Do not lie to me and tell me you don’t know what I am talking about. You jumped into the deep end and now you will drown without my help.”
The words landed like a slap. Lavinia sucked in a breath. “How dare you. You act as if you are my savior, but you are the reason I am in this carriage now. Do you not realize what this all means?”
His stared at her and growled…actually growled. As if dealing with her frustrated him into sounding like an animal. Then he said through clenched teeth, “We will discuss it later.”
“Later,” she echoed, bitter. “Your favorite word.”
Ravenwood said nothing more. He kept his attention on the injured man; one hand braced against the carriage wall to steady himself over rutted road. Outside, London slid away as the scenery turned to fields and trees.
Lavinia’s mind spun faster with every turn of the wheels. She was beginning to understand that her list was not merely scandalous…it was deadly.
The man in the carriage was one of his best shadows. One of Lionston’s, to be more accurate…yet Dash had selected him himself for this particular task because he trusted the man’s discretion and competence above most others. He had followed Lavinia without being seen, had reported with calm accuracy, had done everything required. Wren was more than competent, he was trustworthy, and someone he had relied upon many times in the past. He had been a soldier when Dash had purchased his commission. When he showed signs he would make a good asset in espionage, Dash had plucked him from his regiment and trained him.
And now he lay half-conscious on the seat of Dash’s carriage as his blood seeped into his coat. Dash’s control did not crack, but something in him went colder than snow during winter in the Highlands. This was not a random attack, and it was no accident that he had been chosen. This was a message, or more accurately, a warning.
It meant Lavinia was in danger—far more danger than Dash had realized.
He had instructed his driver to leave London at once, taking the northern road out toward a house he kept for privacy rather than comfort. It lay beyond the city and was quiet enough that no curious servant would chatter to half of Mayfair by teatime.
Quiet enough to speak plainly and secluded enough to hide a wounded man.
It was the perfect place to have a private moment with a duke’s daughter who had somehow acquired information she ought not possess. He had heard her sharp inhale of breath when he’d muttered Phillip Wren’s name. She had recognized it and there was no reason she should have. No one in any of her circles, save those in the Lion Watch, would know it. He was for all intents and purposes a nobody and very, very forgettable. That was what made him a good shadow.
Opposite him, Lavinia sat rigid, her gaze flashed in equal turns between outrage and curiosity. She looked like a woman who had been pushed into darkness and was determined to bring a candle with her, even if it burned her fingers. He could respect that desire, but it was a useless endeavor. Once a person lived in the dark, the shadows never left their side. He should know. It was where he had lived for far too long. He had not wanted her to step into it. It was her compassion and intelligence that brought him into the light, and instead of keeping her where she belonged, he had dragged her into his world.
Dash stared at her because he could not help himself. She was sunshine and happiness even now. She would demand answers soon, as would he. But right now, it was enough to sit with her in silence.
They reached the house as twilight began to soften the day. The carriage rolled through a discreet gate, up a drive lined with bare-limbed trees, and stopped before a modest country seat. It was a home he had purchased before he was ever to be the Earl of Ravenwood. He had received an inheritance from his grandmother on his mother’s side. At the time he thought that perhaps one day he’d marry and this would be where he took his bride and started his family. That was not long after he first met Lavinia. But then something changed in him during the war, and he thought those dreams had died. Still, he’d kept it, and now he was glad. Because it was a place no one realized was his, and she would be safe here.
Dash stepped out of the carriage first. He barked orders in a low voice, and the few, carefully chosen servants appeared with swift efficiency. They lifted Wren out of the carriage and carried him inside. Lavinia climbed down more slowly and came to stand beside him. She swept her gaze over the house and the grounds. He couldn’t help wondering what she saw when she took it all in. Did she like it? Would she have been happy here with him?
“Where are we?” she demanded.
“A place you will not be found,” Dash replied. It was so much more than that, but he didn’t tell her that. She would have expectations and more questions.
“That is not…”
“It is enough,” he cut in, then turned away before she could argue. He had things to see to before they could talk. His first concern was the man who had been attacked in his service. He followed the servants into the house. He went straight to a downstairs chamber that had been prepared for precisely this sort of necessity. A physician had been summoned with discreet speed as soon as they arrived and should join them shortly.
