And reached for the disgusting cigars.
Within a few hours Tristan’s crew had searched the Gardner “sisters’” rooms and confiscated their belongings (which included an interesting variety of knives and pistols), removed all the cigars from the tunnel through the stables, and arrested a few of the stable workers after some rigorous questioning—seemed a stable boy’s grandfather had once worked at the whorehouse and knew of the tunnel. When they’d learned Derring was the owner of the former Palace of Rogues, they’d made him a business proposition he was in no position to refuse. If he hadn’t keeled over in White’s, he might have actually paid his debts in a few years.
Tristan coerced from their captives a few more names of the gang in Sussex. Officers were already on the road heading to Sussex to nab them.
It seemed the “Gardners” had been under a variety of threats to deliver the cigars to the merchants who’d ordered them, which was part of the reason for the feminine disguises.
And as for the statues, they’d all been unpaid for and returned to the stonemason, who was also arrested.
And thus the Blue Rock gang was decimated.
The soldiers allowed everyone at the boardinghouse a very quick peek down the wardrobe.
“Where else does it go?” Delacorte pondered. “I suppose one of us will need to be brave enough to find out.”
“I nominate Dot,” Angelique said.
Dot looked uncertain. Then forgot her concern instantly in the pleasure of looking at the soldiers.
Delilah didn’t want to look down into that tunnel, but she did.
Vertigo struck.
It seemed the Gardner sisters’ plan had hinged on Delilah and Angelique being stupid enough—or, more charitably speaking, naive enough, or desperate enough—to let them stay, and to not question their disguises. If they’d been a trifle more murderously inclined or less certain of themselves, they might not be alive to stare down a tunnel.
Men. For God’s sake. Was there no end to their perfidy?
What an astonishingly venal thing for Derring to have done at all. And all the while she had smiled at him dutifully across their dining table and asked about his day. But if he’d been in a panic about his debt, if he’d felt any guilt, it hadn’t shown. Surely she would have sensed it? Then again, she’d lodged two men wearing dresses.
She couldn’t imagine the Gardner sisters had slept a wink when they found out the captain of the blockade was under the same roof. Surely, being smugglers, they’d realized he wasthatCaptain Hardy.
He’d been on their trail even before then, however. She supposed it wasn’t so much arrogance as accurate reporting when he’d said he was indomitable.
She and Angelique had handed over to Captain Hardy for inspection the token left with them by Mr. X. But as it was the very thing that prevented the smugglers from getting into the room, it was deemed irrelevant to the investigation at hand, until they learned otherwise. Angelique kept it in her night table drawer.
One day all of this would probably seem blackly funny. Probably. After a fashion.
Apart from where Tristan had essentially used her to get the information he needed.
“It seems we’re going to need to refine our interview process,” Angelique said. “Perhaps include a discussion of current sleeve designs.”
She was surprisingly sanguine about it all. Then again, Angelique’s life had already been quite eventful.
The admiring eyes of the soldiers had mellowed her mood somewhat, too. One’s heart might rattle about like broken china, but Delilah’s hope was like that one ember remaining in a fireplace...
The one that could fly up the chimney and set the roof on fire and burn the whole thing down.
Hope, like love, like romance, was a lie, Delilah had decided.
While his men ferried out cigars and searched the Gardner sisters’ room, Tristan dashed off a message to the king, sealed it, and carried it downstairs. He would have one of his men deliver it straight there.
He paused a moment in the foyer and remembered the moment he’d first stood there, looking up at a singing woman. The day was stubbornly gray, but the light through the windows managed to pick out a rainbow or two from the crystals.
“Thank you, Captain Hardy.”
He gave a start.
Delilah was alone in the little reception room. He understood clearly now that he’d always been able to feel her when she was in a room. That something in him had lightened when she was near.
