Renard took off like a shot, hearing his wife’s word over and over.
He cursed himself for not bringing his horse from the stable on the other side of the city. Like a fool, he’d walked, wishing to enjoy his last moments of freedom on his own two feet. That extra time could mean the difference between saving Camille.
His soul screamed for its mate. To think of her harmed was like carving the muscle from his chest.
“Are you sure?”
He was sure Camille was the best thing in his life. He was sure he loved her more than the air in his lungs. He was sure he’d sacrifice anything to bring her home. And he was more than sure the woman wouldn’t be where she should for one intrinsic reason; she lived by the identifier ‘unexpected.’
The stolen seal, the bodies, Hawkins, Camille’s fleeing to the country... Everything felt staged, a play with its actors on strings. But the hands directing this script were dirty, manipulating, a twisted version of fate’s ever-present guiding hand.
Who would do this?
“Madam will send word to my crew. They’ll keep a look out for Camille and any suspicious men on the streets,” said a feminine voice.
Renard startled at the girl from the roof, keeping pace beside him like they were on a relaxed promenade through the Vauxhall pleasure gardens and not running full tilt.
“Who are you—”
“Name’s Syd. Camille is like an older sister, and if you say some asinine thing about staying out of danger, I’ll remove one of your fingers with my knife.”
Renard swallowed down the exact words“It’s too dangerous”and really looked at his running partner. “Could you do it?”
She didn’t smile—the situation was too serious for that—but her mouth flicked with brief amusement. “I’ll give you the option between a thumb or a forefinger.”
“Sporting of you.”
He turned left at a bisecting lane, Syd following.
“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” she asked.
His steps faltered. He’d been heading in the direction of the Lux Townhouse. But this madman was too careful to take her to a place filled with eyes and ears of dozens of servants.He’d use subterfuge to lure Camille someplace she felt safe, a place she wouldn’t hesitate to go by herself while bypassing the townhouse.
“Where would Camille go to get away from the club and her flat?” he asked.
“Turn here.” Syd pointed to the right and took the lead through the alleys towards the docks. “There’s a tavern. The Cock ’n Hen.”
“I know it.” He put on a burst of speed, shocked at how easily the girl kept pace.
She glanced his way. “What’s your plan, lordy?”
“Find my duchess. Keep her safe. Don’t die.”
She snorted. “Fine.”
“You agree?”
“No. Your plan is trash,” she said. “We’ll do this my way.”
He eyed her young face and wraith-like body. The girl was little more than shrouded bone and confidence. “Doyouhave a plan?”
“Yes.” She flashed him a grin that was all teeth. “Hope you’re better at stalling than you are negotiating people off roofs.”
He ignored his lungs burning from the exertion, not when all his efforts went to keep his mind from devolving into panic. “I’ve been accused of charm by the very best. How much time do you need?”
“Long enough for me to get word to my men.”
“Your men?”
