“Yes.”
“No, Ruth. Not now. That road is isolated. We’ll be vulnerable. The same people who attacked us before could do so again if they know we leave London. I can’t cover that much ground with grooms.”
“Then no one will know we are going.”
“It’s not possible. I’m watched. No, Ruth.”
“You have faced your enemies. You’ve made peace with what was done to you. I need to do the same. Madame Talease knows what was done to me.”
“I don’t care what you did at Madame Talease’s. I don’t need to hate any more people.”
“But this ismystory, Wycliff. I want you to hear all the pieces. Then you can tell me what to do. I want my enemies to be in terror like yours.”
“If I refuse?”
“You were already out that door. Since you destroyed the registry, you can’t stop me from going myself.”
He shook his head. “That long stretch of road by yourself is ridiculous. You’ll be anxious. You’ll not make it.”
“If I had my protector with me, I would be fine.”
“They’re watching here. You could be put in jeopardy again, Ruth. You can’t do that.”
“The wild child is going to do the wildest thing. I’m going to Madame Talease. I need her statement. I need you to hear it.”
He looked down at me, and I felt the anguish rippling through him.
“As much as I want to say no, I know you, Ruth. When your mind is set, you don’t stop. It’s best I go with you. That way if things go poorly, we might actually die together this time.”
He pulled away. “Let me check with Lawden, to see what protections we can put in place. Be ready to go in an hour.”
Wycliff left me.
I was terrified, but I was determined. I needed truth. I needed it above everything.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Secrets and Shadows
I should’ve left my spectacles at home, then I wouldn’t have had to witness Wycliff’s discomfort. The unflappable man seemed so tense. He kept peering out the window, cupping his hands to his eyes, hunting.
The farther his carriage moved from London, the more he shifted.
I put a hand to his knee, and he jerked.
“You are so uneasy.”
“Yes. This is foolhardy. We should’ve waited until next week or the week after.”
“Madame Talease is dying. She may not have next week.”
He put his head back on the seat. “Yes. Mrs. Johnson, who hates me because her husband has died, convinces you to go out of town tonight. I’m still stupid.”
“Madame’s letter to me said the same. What is wrong, Adam, Wycliff, Adoniram?”
“No one calls me Adoniram.”
“No Adoniram?”
