Slothington let out a slow breath. “We cannot. Our names on that list too.”
Lionston turned sharply and rapped his knuckles on the table—a signal. Within moments, the door opened and two men appeared, faces neutral and gazes alert.
Lionston’s tone turned crisp. “I want the city scoured. Quietly. Halford is to be found and brought in alive if possible.”
One of the men nodded. “At once, Your Grace.”
“And,” Lionston continued, tapping the list, “these names marked missing—I want eyes on their known haunts. Lodgings, clubs, mistresses, tailors, and gaming hells. Anything. If they have vanished willingly, I want to know why. If they have been taken, I want to know by whom.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The men vanished as swiftly as they came.
Lionston turned back, his expression hard. “They are watching us,” he said. “They have been watching us long enough to compile this.”
Dash’s gaze remained on the list. “Which means Vivy should have given that to me sooner. She read those names and was investigating it. Her curiosity put her in danger.”
“She was right to be curious.” Slothington snorted softly. “She found that in her father’s study and it has your name on it. She’s in love with you so of course she would investigate.”
“Slothy brings up a good point.” Lionston narrowed his gaze. “Why did Avonridge have this?”
“I do not know.” Dash’s chest tightened. “Vivy found it in his study. After she got that missive warning her away. I do not know if Halford kept it there or if it was Avonridge’s list.”
Lionston held up a hand. “Do not speak the worst possibility unless we are forced to.” He turned to Slothington. “We need a deeper investigation. Quiet, thorough, and ruthless.”
Slothington’s expression sharpened despite his habitual languor. “Into Avonridge?”
“Into everything.” Lionston flicked his gaze to Dash. “If this list exists, we must assume there are others or there is someone who can recreate it.”
Dash’s jaw tightened. “And Halford is now loose.” He silently cursed. None of this was good and he hated that Vivy was still in danger. They had to find that man and discover what he knew.
“Which makes time our enemy,” Lionston said.
Slothington set his glass down with a soft clink. “I will take the lead on Avonridge.”
Lionston studied him. “You?”
Slothington’s mouth curved faintly. “Who better? I have always wanted an excuse to be insufferable to a duke.”
Dash tilted his head to the side and then said, “Try not to provoke the man. He could make your life miserable.”
Slothington glanced at him. “No promises.”
Lionston’s tone cut through the dry humor. “Good. Slothington will look into Avonridge. Dash your priority remains Lavinia. Keep her safe and keep her close.”
Dash’s heartbeat kicked, hard. Keep her close—he did not need permission for that. “I will,” Dash said.
Lionston nodded. “Do not make decisions with your heart.”
Dash held his gaze. “You know me better than that.” She had always had his heart. He had just kept that to himself for so long that even he had forgotten that fact. Something he was not about to share with Lionston. He did not need to know that. “I am always meticulous with my tasks.”
Slothington’s brow lifted. “A shame. It would improve you.”
Lionston ignored him. “We move quietly,” the Duke said. “We move quickly and we assume nothing.”
Dash’s hand curled behind his back, nails biting into his palm. Because one thing was already certain. This was no longer about a list. It was about Vivy and if Halford had dared put a knife to her throat once and Dash would not give him the opportunity to try again.
Lionston House seemed safe enough. It was quiet and welcoming. She could see how Sabrina had made it special. It was a home filled with loyal servants and solid walls. Sabrina’s presence helped too. She had always had a way about her that Vivy appreciated. She was steady and warm…a true friend.
Vivy sat in Sabrina’s sunny sitting room with a cup of tea in hand and tried, very hard, to breathe as though her life had not been nearly ended earlier that day. Sabrina sat opposite her, perfectly at ease, her posture elegant, and her expression amused—as if danger were merely an inconvenience that could be dismissed with wit. “You look as though you are expecting the curtains to murder you,” Sabrina observed, lifting her own cup.
