Devin uttered a curse. “What about Granelli?” he asked grimly.
“Not to worry,” she assured him. “The baronet left him to his fate.” She held up the letter that the count had sent, before tossing it on her dressing table. “Alfred tells me that he actually wrote a confession, but it wasn’t the one we were expecting. It was against Granelli, placing the blame for all of his wrongdoings at his feet.”
Devin snorted. “I’m not surprised. He’s deceitful enough to do anything.”
“The question now is, what can we do to stop him?” She turned back to the wardrobe where she continued rummaging inside. “I, for one, intend to gather a posse and—”
“A what?”
She glanced over her shoulder and waved a hand. “You know, rally a group of people to apprehend a criminal.”
“I know what it is,” he returned dryly. “But we don’t have to go to such extremes in this case. We’ll leave that to the Americans kicking up dirt in the west.”
She paused and set her hands on her hips. “And what is it that you suggest?”
“We just find what he wants before he does.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And what is that?”
He mirrored her stance. “While you were entertaining the baronet last night—" She pursed her lips at that. “I had a conversation with the maid we had been waiting for.”
Her mouth went lax at this. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded.
He scratched the slight bit of stubble along his jaw. “Well, it wasn’t as if we were doing much talking when we got back from the ball.”
She could feel her cheeks warming at the memory, and with the bed standing as a firm reminder so close… She released a slow breath. “What did she say?”
He gestured to her wardrobe. “How about you get dressed and I’ll go one step further and show you.”
Devin sat in the hackney beside Constance, while Luke sat across from them. When he found out what was going on, he insisted on going with them. They all sat in silence as they waited for the carriage to deposit them at the door of Montfree’s. Devin hadn’t wanted Constance to go with them, since he knew it was likely going to be dangerous, but he would have been hard pressed to make her cool her heels. She was one of them, after all, a woman who had lived a harsh life and learned the lessons that went along with it.
But there was one person who wouldn’t win in this particular game.
With the weight of the pistol in his grasp, he realized that it all came down to this. The moment of truth with Sir Isaacson was about to culminate.
It was the final act, and he had saved one last trick up his sleeve until the end.
When the carriage shuddered to a halt, they all regarded the other, as if conveying a silent message. Devin was the first to step to the ground, where he held out a hand for Constance. Luke jumped down on his own and the hackney drove away.
For a moment, Devin just stared at the front door of the gaming hell. He didn’t know what awaited him on the other side. All he knew was that he had to find the evidence Miss Hollowell had promised him was still there—a letter written in Annalise’s own hand detailing all of her husband’s illicit business dealings, which sounded rather plentiful, along with the suspicions that her life would be in danger if she revealed her secret.
His throat tightened at the memory of what that “secret” was, but then he turned that unfortunate circumstance into determination. With his gaze sharp, his mind clear, and his weapon in his grasp, he started forward.
There was no one at the front door when he pushed it open, which surprised him. But then, perhaps the baronet believed that reinforcements weren’t necessary. His arrogance was likely enlarged due to his cunning thus far.
Devin held a finger to his lips as he moved forward. He watched the shadows where the light from the windows didn’t quite reach, alert to any sort of movement.
The evidence that the maid had told him he would find was upstairs was in Constance’s former quarters, hidden behind a loose stone in the wall.
He stealthily headed to the second level, his footsteps never making a sound. Constance and Luke moved just as lightly, the only noise coming from the slight rustle of her skirts. In another life, he imagined she would have made a rather competent thief.
There was nobody around when they reached the top of the stairs, but Devin wasn’t letting down his guard. That was how mistakes were made and people were killed. A harsh lesson he’d learned through the years, before he’d been sent to the colonies—and again after he’d arrived.
It wasn’t until they began to draw closer to the slightly ajar door that Devin heard the commotion coming from inside the room. He exhaled heavily, because it was as he thought. The baronet was alone.
There was a curse followed by a muttered insult. “Where did she hide it?”
Devin steadied his aim and pushed open the door. “I might be able to help with that, but then I’d have to kill you.”
