“True.” Hannah leaned her head against his shoulder. She automatically anticipated a sharp whack to her thigh from Méibh, but the little gosling was thankfully a deep sleeper.
Eoin slung his arm around Hannah, pulling her close. She wanted to tilt her head back for a kiss, but she had too many worries marching grimly through her mind.
“Do you think the bear is Ursus?” Hannah asked.
“Very likely.” Eoin toyed with her hair, and Hannah watched as her red locks slipped through his strong fingers. “Of course, we would be predisposed to make that assumption since we saw him recently. Yet it is also logical to assume that someone from the Horse and Hen released him into my garden. Howelse could a bear find its way here? It is not as if bruins are wandering amok in Mayfair.”
“Agreed. Mayfair is much too dignified a section of town. Why, in Covent Garden you see them all the time. Just the other day, one popped by for a cup of chocolate at the Black Sheep, and he became an absolute bear when we said that we only had coffee.” Hannah patted Eoin’s arm to temper her sarcasm.
Eoin laughed. “You know what I meant.”
Hannah sobered. “I did.” She really shouldn’t tease him under the circumstances, but she’d always turned to humor in the face of both danger and despair.
“I am beginning to think that the Purveyor has formed a grudge against me.” Eoin’s grip on Hannah’s tightened, and she doubted he’d even realized that he’d given her a squeeze. “I am not sure why he is fixated upon me, but the first attempt on my life occurred after our initial visit to the Horse and Hen. The pattern begins there.”
“Have you ever suspected your uncles?” Hannah asked cautiously as a sick feeling coated her stomach. She had to warn Eoin against the rumors about his family—even if she wasn’t ready to reveal her own personal connection to the Aucourtes.
“Of being the Purveyor?” Eoin asked in disbelief. “They hardly seem like criminal masterminds.”
“Their foolish exteriors could be carefully crafted fronts,” Hannah pointed out as she reached for Eoin’s hand. Gently, she stroked his knuckles as she thought of the best way to explain. “Your Uncle Hugh would inherit the dukedom if you die. And he has even more motive now that you’ve reunited with your mother and sister. Didn’t you say that he and his siblings receive nothing of value from your grandfather if you interact with your maternal line?”
“That is all true, but how would my uncles and aunts even know about my discoveries tonight?” Eoin pointed out.
“If Hugh was the Purveyor and has sent his underlings to spy on you, he would know,” Hannah replied.
“It seems far-fetched to believe that he either has connections to this Purveyor or is the man himself,” Eoin said.
“There—there has been something that I have been struggling to tell you,” Hannah admitted. “Sophia and I have heard rumors for years involving the Aucourte family.”
Eoin exhaled. “Ah. I thought you were holding back something directly pertaining to me. Were you afraid I would be insulted?”
“More… hurt?” Hannah half fibbed.
Eoin gave her a quick squeeze and bussed her cheek. “You needn’t have worried. I have no real love for my uncles. They have always despised my very existence—my aunts too. I can imagine any of them indulging in casual illegal behavior, but I cannot picture them summoning enough initiative to build a clandestine network like the Purveyor’s. What gossip did you hear?”
“Nothing substantial, but when we attempted to investigate, we heard silence similar to what happens if we inquire about the Purveyor. That is why I think they may be one and the same.” When Hannah finished speaking, she held her breath. Would Eoin ask why they had been digging into vague whispers about his family? He was so keen.
Eoin kissed her other cheek. “The Black Sheep is truly a remarkable institution. I thought they had only begun to ferret out mysteries when you helped Lady Charlotte unmask Viscount Hawley as a highwayman. But you have been a secret avenging force in London all along, haven’t you?”
Guilt stabbed Hannah. Eoin trusted her implicitly, yet shehad betrayed him. Yes, she was currently loyal, but it had all begun as a ploy. Now that he knew about the danger, did she really need to confess the rest? Would it serve anything but to hurt him and to assuage her own guilt? If he was willing to investigate his own family, did it really matter that she’d begun their partnership with the same intent? Every aspect of their romantic relationship had been real without any manipulation on her part.
“Our coffeehouse has always been a haven for the downtrodden who’ve been misused by people in power,” Hannah said cautiously, carefully skirting around her family’s personal history.
“Your father and uncle must have been very unusual pirates,” Eoin replied, and Hannah’s heart started pounding. Did he suspect? Yet why would he?
“My aunt—Sophia’s mother—is the true leader of the group, and her mission has always been to free slaves and children forced into indentured servitude,” Hannah explained. “The Black Sheep was a location for people to gather while they began their new life in London.”
“A place for starting anew.” Eoin nuzzled Hannah’s neck, and she could feel him smile as he spoke. “I like that. Although my circumstances were very privileged and never as dire, I must say that I have found more and more of my true self after visiting your coffeehouse.”
Hannah’s remorse nearly choked her. Her lips parted, and she was a mere heartbeat away from full confession. But just as she started to form the first word, Eoin’s mouth closed over hers. His tongue plunged deep, teasing hers. Sparks instantly cascaded through Hannah, setting aflame the energy already stirring inside her from the chase through the garden. She shifted in Eoin’s strong arms and cupped his dear face with her hands. She could feel the stubble on his chin. As he deepenedthe kiss even more, his cheek muscles worked beneath her fingertips.
A moan rose up from deep within her. Oh, how this man could make her feel and forget. They were in their own fairy-tale world—a prince and a maiden locked in a tower with a beast pacing outside the door. But they had each other in this dark circle of stone, and everything without the walls simply ceased to matter.
Eoin still wore the rough clothes of a laborer, and Hannah was immensely glad for his shorter jacket. It made it easier to undo the buttons and slip it from his shoulders. He immediately complied, his lips still locked with hers as he contorted himself to escape the folds of the fabric. She disposed of his waistcoat next, tossing it to the side. She tugged at his coarse linen shirt, pulling it loose from his breeches. Eagerly, she skimmed her fingers up his back, feeling his thick, banded muscles.
He groaned, his mouth sliding furiously against hers. Hannah felt him clumsily work the buttons on her own coat, which she’d donned to wear to Championess Quick’s. She debated about helping him, but that would mean pausing her very intriguing exploration of his body. When her hands reached his chest, he’d finally undone the fastenings.
Pulling back, she shrugged off her outer garment with one arm while impatiently tugging at the bottom of his linen shirt with the other hand. “I want to see your muscles, not just feel them.”
