“Nickie, I’m considering stopping the war when Uncle is jailed and can’t harm anyone else, but if any of my ladybirds have a feather ruffled… You don’t want to see me angry.”
Eyes darting, his cousin lost his smirk. “Nacknel is dead, Johnson is jailed. What happens if you are angry?”
He smiled at his cousin. “The tribulation. Final judgement and everyone will go to their private reward. Yours will be hell. Don’t tempt me to start early. See you tonight.”
Wycliff tossed his cousin a few coins. “This should pay for your admission. Uncle’s, too.”
Nickie caught it, opened the door, and almost walked into Lawden’s flintlock rifle. His hands went up. He looked green, as if he’d vomit.
“Let him go for now, Lawden. We’ll have target practice later.”
Lawden waved him through and kept his gun aimed and pointed at the fleeing man until the outer door slammed.
The control Wycliff had mastered on the HMSLiverpoolbroke. He picked up Nickie’s glass and pitched it into the fireplace. It shattered with a crackle against the iron pit.
“My lord?”
“The fool hinted at having my wife when she was at Madame Talease’s bawdy house.”
Lawden’s face looked as mournful as Wycliff felt. “What do we do?”
“Have someone armed and ready to protect every last one of the Croomes, even the politician. I’m not sure where they will strike. I just know that they will.”
“My lord, your hands. You look as if you will break the desk.”
Wycliff yanked out his sjambok and cracked it three times in the air.Pow, pow, pow.“They want me blinded with rage. Anything hurting Mrs. Wilky will do that.”
Lawden moved to the fireplace and stooped. He picked up a large shard of broken glass. “You put plans into motion. The Croomes are safe. Don’t give in to despair.”
“I want to dispense mercy and judgement, but I may be out of mercy.”
“If one works at a brothel—who are you mad at, the client or the woman? Talease doesn’t force her employees.”
Wycliff was glad his man was careful in his speech. He couldn’t take Ruth being called a harlot for being one of Madame’s girls. He rubbed his beard. “I’m mad at me, Lawden. All this goes back to me. I was rash to leave Gretna Green. I made Ruth vulnerable. Whatever happened at Talease’s is my fault.”
“It’s an odd thing, my lord. Men want fidelity and purity in their women, but how often do we keep to the same standard?”
That was true, but that didn’t stop the buzzing in his ears, the hate stewing in his gut thinking his cousin had had Ruth. She’d met him once. He knew her to be Adam’s. Could he have intentionally selected her? Had he hurt Ruth? Was Nickie responsible for her struggles?
His head exploded, and he grabbed his sjambok and strangled it.
Whatever had upset Ruth in her father’s study had not been consensual. That he knew.
“Pull the carriage round in an hour, Lawden. As I stew, I’ll forget to tell you.”
“My lord, we have a tip about Cicely.”
“Then let’s leave now. No time to waste.”
Lawden nodded and left.
If it was Cicely, he’d impose her on Mrs. Croome. That woman would get her into shape, but his gut told him it wouldn’t be. Cousin Nickie would have found her by now if she were in London, but Wycliff would check and then head to Ruth.
He reached into his desk and pulled out the ring he had fashioned, a single diamond, perfect and resilient, impervious to ruin. The gold woven about the gem held it secure. It was new. It symbolized a fresh beginning.
The past didn’t matter.
Ruth didn’t need to tell him her secret, but she would have to forgive his, about his name.
