“And if they capture Mark?”
He hugged her closer. She was innocent. In all of this madness, she was innocent. And that needed salvaging. “The murderer has shown himself to be unwilling to accept the gift that your brother’s arrest presented. He will likely kill again. If Mark is caught before that happens, then they will have nothing to show against both your brothers.”
Unless they then tried to pin it on Marietta. Or on him, acting as her agent. If the authorities started to dig around in his background…they could pin the whole thing on him. Or on his family—which would hurt immeasurably more. The smart thing to do would be to drop the case flat. To turn Marietta out and try and salvage his own stake.
His eyes closed tightly. Surely all of the people he had helped and the network he had designed was enough? He had paid his penance and didn’t need to pay one more.
“So you are going to let Mark get caught?”
“No. We will take our chance that the case against Kenny is lessened by this. But if your other brother is caught, take comfort in my previous statement. The killer is still out there.”
Marietta clutched his collar, her face pressed against his neck. A tear wound down his throat and into the fabric beneath. He stroked her hair, his thoughts colliding as to what he should do—about her, about the situation.
And if he did the wrong thing, would one more sin damn him? He was already a ruined man.
He had been since he was sixteen.
Chapter 11
Marietta read the note that Gabriel had handed her as she paced back and forth in the kitchen. Mark was in a house hidden in London. Safe. At least for the moment. Mark was liable to do any number of stupid things like leaving the house because he became bored or didn’t see the seriousness of the matter.
But perhaps he did finally. He had looked shaken when they’d met at a little spot in Hyde Park off the beaten paths—minutes before he disappeared with Gabriel’s men.
Gabriel had been strangely silent since Coroner’s Court. No quips or barbs had come her way. He had held her and comforted her, but his gaze had been strange and unfocused. It still was. And if she had thought him diligent and hardworking before, there was a new zeal to his work. He was buried in tomes and treatises, laws and pamphlets. And his notes fluttered everywhere. Time lines and dates, initials and locations. She’d tried to read a few of them, but if they’d been incomprehensible before, his shorthand was now completely cryptic.
And they hadn’t discussed a thing about last night, though with the events of the morning, there hadn’t been time for tiptoeing discomfort or declarations.
“Marietta?”
She turned to see him watching her from where he was hunched over the table. That was another thing. Gabriel had neverhunchedbefore. He’d always held himself as if he were two steps away from seduction, that at any time he could rise or move from wherever he was and have her begging for another kiss. He still looked kissworthy, with his hair falling over his forehead, his green eyes intent on hers, and his lips parted on the question of her name.
“Yes?”
“Stop pacing.”
It was a relief that some things didn’t change. She dropped into the seat across from him. “I need to do something. If you could just tell me what you are researching, I could help.”
He looked down at the spread of books and papers. “Why don’t you visit Mark? Make sure he is settled and knows not to leave.” His voice was casual. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. “I’ll have the carriage take you. It will be a very roundabout way, just in case, so you may want to tear your way out of the vehicle by the time you get there. You will be back by dinner.”
It all sounded so reasonable, and perfect. Nothing worked like that for her. “And you?”
His lower lip slid between his teeth. “I’m going to sit here and pore over legal documents. Nothing exciting.”
“Oh.”
Something about that statement was not right. But as he’d gone right back to the documents, there wasn’t much to be said. And she did want to speak with Mark. To make sure he stayed safe.
Besides, she trusted Noble, didn’t she?
“Find out from your brother where he was last night. Also, here are the dates of the other murders.” He handed her a piece of paper, his voice still bland and not at all like him. “See if he can remember where he was. If not, I will have to send someone to your house to gather the correspondence to help his memory.”
“What about the servants?”
He tapped his forefinger against the scarred table. “I had Billy pay them and turn them out with the proper papers.”
She supposed she ought to be displeased that he had assumed the action without asking, but she couldn’t.
“Thank you.”
