“We don’t know. Get dressed.”
His voice wasn’t unpleasant, but it was firm and brooked no argument. Closed and unapproachable, not how she’d thought the morning would be.
Before she could say anything he looked at her. His eyes closed briefly. When they reopened she read pain there. “Please. We need to hurry.”
Alcroft and Jeremy’s faces lit with surprise. She nodded and hurried back upstairs.
Alcroft whistled. “You are enamored.”
Jeremy’s eyes were narrowed as he nodded in agreement.
“I don’t have time to deal with this,” Gabriel said, pushing aside their questions. Tell me, what is happening? What type of damage needs containing?”
“The ton is beside itself, as can be expected,” Alcroft said. “Would be even worse if they knew who all the victims were. Time is limited. They will figure it out shortly. You need to catch the man responsible.”
Gabriel didn’t look at his brother. “Jeremy, fetch the carriage.”
Jeremy stalked from the room without a backward glance.
Alcroft watched him leave, and Gabriel worried that his friend knew exactly what was going on. “Catch the servant,” Alcroft said, eyes serious.
“The servant is not responsible.” Knives scraped across his skin at the admission. “We would be condemning an innocent man.”
“Aninnocentman. Are you sure?” Alcroft asked, his eyes penetrating.
Gabriel stared at the scattered papers. “The net grows tighter. There is one place left to search. Two places, actually,” he added.
“You are going to have to make a decision soon. Will justice, protection, or revenge be your guide? Will you sacrifice the nobility you’ve always prized?”
“Justice has always been my guide.” He could barely get the words out.
“Sometimes revengeisjustice.”
“I’ve taken my revenge. I did it without bloodshed.”
“But another choice is upon you now. One thing you value will need to be sacrificed. If you could just let go of your damn nobility—”
Gabriel smacked the table. “It is all I have. All I’ve ever had.”
Alcroft leaned closer. “You have justice. It doesn’t have to end the way you think.”
Gabriel stared at him. Alcroft was sympathetic, but he didn’t understand. The mere thought of discussing it with his friend filled him with horror. Alcroft had led an easy life of privilege and respect. He would never be able to understand the conflict and despair.
Jeremy too had lived a life of privilege after those first years in hiding. Gabriel had given him everything. Had tried to keep him innocent of the situation. To protect Jeremy as no one had protected him.
“It doesn’t have to end the way you are thinking,” Alcroft repeated.
He had blamed his father for his blindness—the activities taking place right beneath his nose. His own son in trouble. His father had never argued the blame, his passive, upright control in full evidence as Gabriel railed. Their relationship, always formal and somewhat strained, had never recovered. But Jeremy didn’t have that same strain. He visited their father often. He could have discovered any number of things during those visits.
“It is going to end just as I think. Unpleasantly.”
The house on Wisteria Park was just as he’d expected. Frilly, pink, and gilded. Like a dying bird fluttering in its cage. He hated anything frilly and pink because it reminded him of Anastasia Rasen, and here he stood in the middle of her dollish kingdom.
The servants were blessedly absent, called to present themselves in front of their new master to see whether they would stay or go, but their absence wouldn’t last long. And the danger of curious callers was ever present. There had been two knocks to the door already. They had to hurry.
“Why didn’t Alcroft and Jeremy accompany us?” Marietta asked, poking through a drawer.
“I sent them on another task. We’ll meet with them later.”
