Aislynn clenched her hands in her lap until the knuckles turned white. “How could your uncle allow such torture to take place on his own flesh and blood?”
“I have never blamed him for doing what he thought was best for me. If I had not undergone such thorough treatments, I might not have recovered any of my sanity at all. As it stands, I fear those moments of uncertainty might return, so I have taken precautions in the event the madness cannot be contained.”
Her eyes widened, the pieces suddenly falling into place. “That is why you lock your chamber door, is it not? Because you are prepared for another eventuality?”
His focus was unwavering. “Yes.”
Aislynn sank back against the cushions of the hackney, utterly defeated. She had not realized how far Cordell’s self-preservation went. What had started out as a rabbit hole had spiraled into something much deeper.
Now, more than ever, she wanted to talk to Mary Spade. If there was anyone who could tell her what she truly desired to know about Cordell, it would be her. Or the Duke of Otlingham, but something told her that she would not have much luck if she approached his uncle. Since he had kept his nephew under careful lock and key, he would not appreciate a touch of such devastating scandal falling upon his family again. Cordell mentioned that there were whispers that his uncle was the “mad duke” as it were. Further proof of instability in the family would only cause him to be shunned from society, possibly for good.
“Thank you for trusting me with your secret,” Aislynn said softly. “Forgive me for assuming things that were not accurate and falling to my own conclusions.”
“I would be lying if I said I was not used to it by now,” Cordell returned dryly. “It is not often that people forget what horrific things transpired in London, although it has been several years since those tragedies occurred. I would not assume any less from someone who was not familiar with the previous threat and who has fallen prey to the current one.”
Although Cordell had tried to make light of the situation, it cut him to the quick to learn that Aislynn thought so little of him, that she could believe that he was the monster his father had been. But who was to say that he wasn’t? Cordell had been told that his hands were covered with blood, and he had no recollection of it. Since it wasn’t his own, it stood to reason that he could easily have assaulted someone. It was a possibility that haunted him to this day. As much as he tried to uncover the truth of what had happened, thus far he had failed every attempt. His uncle had refused to offer any monetary assistance in Cordell’s search for answers, likely because he was afraid of what might be uncovered.
For years, Cordell had tried to shake the weight of guilt that he had potentially done something as unforgivable as his father’s crimes, but thus far, he had been unsuccessful in every attempt, either to uncover the truth or to absolve himself.
As if preparing the stage for the next scene, the hackney rolled to a stop in front of the Theatre Royale. “It appears we have reached your destination, Miss Sims.”
He could not think of her in more intimate terms, not now. Not when he felt as though she believed him capable of such terrible acts.
“Are you not joining me?”
“No. I have some things to take care of this evening, but I have ensured you are protected.”
The door opened, and a familiar man stood there. Cordell was unsurprised at the flash of recognition in her gaze, as it was the same man he’d hired from Spades to watch over her flat. The very man she had easily spotted loitering across the street. “I am sure you remember John?” he drawled.
“Indeed,” she murmured. With a pointed glance at him, she added for his ears alone, “Are you certain you can trust me with him?”
He snorted lightly. “I would hope that you might have more sense than to try to distract him and leave adequate protection.”
She leaned forward. “I told you before, Mr. Steele, that I do not require your assistance. I am continuing to stay at your townhouse because it is not as drafty as my old residence and has decidedly fewer rats to keep me awake at night.”
He laughed, amused as usual by her blatant show of independence. “I am glad to be of service for your comfort, if nothing else.”
She left the carriage and sauntered into the theatre. Cordell’s gaze remained on the enticing sway of her hips until she disappeared through the backstage door. He was still lost in lust-filled thoughts when he mentally shook himself and rapped on the roof.
As the hackney set back into motion, he realized that he needed to get back into the character of Cordell Steele, inquiry agent. He had told Aislynn a small white lie, although he did have plans to engage in a few choice words with The Wolf. Regardless of his fearsome reputation, Cordell wanted to know why the man wanted to sabotage his growing trust with Aislynn and betray his hospitality in such a way.
When he arrived back home, he entered through the front door and did not bother removing his great coat as he strode upstairs and opened the door to the patient’s room without bothering to knock. The Wolf was there, surrounded by his pack, appearing the picture of health, except for the bandage still wrapped snugly around his chest that proved otherwise.
The Wolf didn’t appear surprised to see Cordell, and neither did he break contact as he instructed his loyal servants, “Leave us.”
The three men grumbled slightly but they all filed out of the door, but not without glaring in warning at Cordell as they did so. The instant they were alone, Cordell demanded, “What is your objective, Wolf?”
The other man calmly folded his hands in his lap. “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Steele?”
Cordell’s fists clenched in frustration. “Do not play ignorant with me if you do not want me to announce to your enemies where you are convalescing.”
The threat effectively wiped the smirk from his face. “You would act in error to do so. My pack would not take too kindly to my disruption.”
It was the opening Cordell had been waiting for. “Just as I did not care for the doubts that you saw fit to place in Miss Sims’ head regarding me and my past. Did you gain a certain amusement out of it after everything I have done to save your miserable life?”
His expression did not change but Cordell saw The Wolf’s shoulders stiffen, the muscles around his neck standing out in further prominence. “I am not sure I care for your tone.”
Cordell’s hands clenched. “And I am not certain I appreciate your interference in my relationship with Miss Sims.”
