“But this time, we’re prepared for it. We document it. Get him to confess.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Morgan, listen to me?—”
“No. I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no.”
Eliza turned to Hartley. “Mr. Hartley, is such a plan feasible? Could you position Runners to overhear a conversation? Record a confession?”
Hartley looked uncomfortable, glancing between them as he puffed on his pipe. “Your Grace, what exactly are you proposing?”
“I act as bait. I provoke Whitfield into another confrontation, but this time, we have witnesses. Runners positioned nearby whocan hear everything. If I can get him angry enough, if I can push the right buttons, he might confess. Or at least say something incriminating enough to warrant further investigation.”
“Absolutely not,” Morgan repeated, his voice hard. “I won’t allow it.”
“It’s not your decision to allow,” Eliza said quietly. “This is my choice.”
“Your choice? To put yourself in danger? To deliberately antagonize a man who’s already threatened you, who’s killed three women and God knows how many others who got in his way?” Morgan’s voice rose like thunder. “No. Find another way.”
“There is no other way!” Eliza’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you see? Every lead we had is dead or too terrified to talk. We have nothing. No evidence, no witnesses, no proof. But we do have one thing and that’s Whitfield’s pride.” She stepped closer to Morgan, her voice softening. “You promised me, Morgan. You promised you’d help me bring him to justice. Was that a lie?”
“Of course it wasn’t a lie, but?—”
“Then help me do this. Help me end this. Because if we don’t, he’ll just keep killing. Other women will die. Other families will lose daughters, sisters, and friends. And we could have stopped him.”
Morgan stared at her, torn between his desperate need to keep her safe and his understanding that she was right. He admired her conviction, her spirit. He knew that Whitfield wouldn’t stop. He’d gotten away with murder three times already. Without evidence, he’d continue his pattern until someone finally stopped him.
“Mr. Hartley,” Morgan said finally, not taking his eyes off Eliza. “Is this possible? Could such a plan work?”
Hartley was quiet for a long moment. “It’s risky, Your Grace. Extremely risky. But… yes. If we position men strategically, if we choose the location carefully, if Her Grace can provoke him into saying something incriminating…” He paused. “It might be our only chance.”
“And her safety?” Morgan’s voice was cool as steel. “Can you guarantee it?”
“No plan is without risk. But I can promise that Her Grace would never be alone with him. We’d always have Runners within earshot, ready to intervene at the first sign of any physical threat.”
Morgan closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the decision crushing down on him. Every instinct screamed at him to refuse, to lock Eliza away somewhere safe where Whitfield could never reach her. But he’d promised her. Not just empty words, but a real promise. To help her seek justice for Abigail. To support her, not control her.
Choosing each other, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
Ambrose’s words echoed in his mind.
“If we do this,” Morgan said slowly, opening his eyes, “we do it my way. With precautions. With backup plans. And if at any point I think you’re in real danger, Eliza, we abort. Immediately. No arguments.”
Eliza’s expression flooded with relief. “Agreed.”
“Mr. Hartley, you’ll need at least six men positioned around wherever this happens. Men you trust absolutely. Money is no object, they will be well compensated as long as Her Grace is safe.”
“I have them, Your Grace.”
“And we choose the location. Somewhere we can control, where we know the layout, where Eliza can retreat if necessary.”
“The Pemberton ball,” Eliza said suddenly, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Next week. It’s at their townhouse. You know it well, Morgan. You’ve attended events there for years.”
Morgan’s mind raced through the layout of Pemberton House. The ballroom. The gardens. The various alcoves and retiring rooms.
It could work…
“The conservatory,” he said. “It’s partially separated from the main ballroom but still accessible. Glass walls on three sides, so Runners could observe from the garden. And there’s a door that leads directly outside, in case we need a quick exit.”
