She froze.
“Fiona!” Edward’s voice called out to her from the other side of the room. Somewhere behind the buzzing in her ears, she registered the fact that he’d used her real name. Whatever was about to happen, then, was worse than her charade being exposed.
“Get out of my way. Goddamn it. Fiona!”
She couldn’t see him. All she could see was the wall of uniforms in front of her. Then Inspector Patterson was standing less than a foot away. His eyes were cold flint.
“Fiona McTavish. On behalf of his Majesty King George IV, I hereby arrest you on the charge of treason.”
Her breathing stopped. The buzzing sound suddenly felt so very far away. She swayed a little. By the time two guards had circled her and pulled her hands behind her back, she couldn’t feel their touch. It was as if she were watching the scene play out as a spectator from above.
Cruelly, Patterson yanked at her wig, tossing it to the floor, and her hair tumbled loose across her shoulders. The crowd took a collective breath in as the pieces fell together.
“Fiona!”
The crack in Edward’s voice brought her back to her body. There was a sudden onslaught of noise. Every voice in the crowd loud and outraged. She could see him now, held back by two of the guards.
“Let her go! Now, Goddamn it. Let her go or I will destroy each and every one of you.”
The guards behind her shoved her forward. She stumbled over her feet and would have fallen had one of them not grabbed the fabric of her coat.
And still, she could not breathe.
She locked eyes with Edward as she passed him, three men required now to keep him at bay. His furious, anguished yell brought tears to her eyes.
Suddenly, Charlotte was in front of her, hands on her hips, an incensed, mulish expression on her face. “I am Lady Charlotte Stirling, cousin to King George, sister to the Duke of Wildeforde, niece to the Duke of Camden,” she said. Her voice held an imperiousness that Fiona had never heard before. “Release her immediately.” There was noorjust the assumption that her orders would be obeyed.
“Excuse me, my lady.” One of the officers gently pulled her aside, ignoring the outrage on her face.
Fiona was pushed forward once again.
She stared in front of her, her face burning as the crowd parted. The looks on their faces suggested they were glad of the spectacle, glad to see her fall. She had, after all, deceived them and made them look like fools.
Then there was a friendly face. William stood by the ballroom door and caught her eye. She focused on him, trying to let all the other faces slip away. As she drew near, he said, loudly enough for his voice to reach her over the din, “Don’t say anything, Finn. Not a word. Wilde will be there soon.”
She swallowed, a ball catching in her throat, and repeated the words to herself in her head over and over and over again.
Wilde will be there soon.
Chapter 32
It killed Edward not to follow the prison cart from the Alston residence to the jail where Fiona was to be detained. He wanted to storm into the governor’s office and demand she be freed. Her spending even a single minute in a cell filled him with rage.
But he also knew that the man on duty was unlikely to release her on his say-so.
So instead he followed Patterson to King Charles Street, where the Home Office was located. The inspector was going to give a full accounting for his actions tonight, so help him God. And then he was going to face the full force of Edward’s wrath.
Edward’s carriage had barely stopped moving when he shoved open the door and leapt out. Patterson was just a shadowy figure retreating through the doors of the double-story building.
Edward followed, but by the time he entered the foyer, Patterson had disappeared. The night watchman escorted him to a small room with bare walls, furnished only with a long wooden table, scarred with age, flanked by two long, heavy-looking benches.
Edward took a seat that faced the door, heels knocking, fingers tapping on the tabletop. Every minute he sat there waiting—at least ten—the tension inside him built. Every minute he was here, Fiona was there—in a cell, alone. Hopefully alone. By the time Patterson arrived, Edward’s entire body was quivering. He tried to suppress all signs of his anxiety by taking a deep breath, but the air wouldn’t come.
As Patterson took the seat opposite Edward, his lips quirked as though suppressing a smile. The blasted inspector knew he had the upper hand. He placed a folder on the table between them, resting his hands on top of it. “Can I order you some tea?” he said mildly.
Fucking tea.Fiona was sitting in a prison cell and this bastard was offering tea. “No, Goddamn it. You can tell me why you have arrested Fiona McTavish on a spurious charge like treason.”
The inspector looked at the officer standing at the door. “Just one tea, thank you, Donaldson.”
