“She was, and she needs to be again.”
Wycliff patted Lawden on the shoulder then climbed into his carriage. They’d visit another of the Blackamoor brothels tonight. Word in the underground of London had spread of the reward Wycliff offered for Cicely’s safe return.
A tip about a girl matching her description had surfaced this morning. His gut said it wasn’t her, that this could be a trap, but Wycliff couldn’t leave anything to chance. He was determined to save his sister, determined to have his revenge, and now, determined to have Ruth back in his arms again.
Wycliff wouldn’t rest until he’d won in every way.
Chapter Ten
To Be Believed
Arriving at Nineteen Fournier, I clutched my sister’s arm as we headed out of the carriage. With my broken glasses settled upon my nose, I could see about three feet in front of me. It was good to have my sister guiding me.
I didn’t want to work so hard, trying to see things, or fretting about the things I couldn’t. Not now. I needed the security of being in the house. Then I’d dwell on my proof, my new cousin.
Bunching up his rich jet cloak to keep it from dragging, I loved the feel of it and the smell caught in the fabric, Bay Rum cologne. The fragrance—tangy, savory, Adam. This was his scent. Tonight, because of Lord Wycliff, I missed him.
I was truly sad for him, the first time in a long time. My lost love wasn’t a blackguard as my papa had tried to convince me.
Hearing the baron say Adam had truly loved me, that the false name and the torn registry wasn’t for fraud but for fear of my safety—made all the difference.
I passed over the threshold. The light of the entry was bright. It held me. It welcomed me, and I breathed.
“Are we going to talk about this, Ruth?”
“No.” My tone was flat. I didn’t want to explain what was going on inside me, how I doubted my memories, my Adam’s motives—not tonight.
“That was a hard fall, Ruth. I should send for a physician. Lord Wycliff is not one.”
“No.”
The sighing sound of Ester muttering to herself didn’t sway me. I needed to see my son then fall into bed with this Bay Rum cloak. “Goodnight.”
I clasped the stair rails and readied to flee. The second floor looked dark. The fingering of my watch revealed ten. That was the latest I’d been out since eloping.
“Hand me that man’s coat, Ruth. Clancy has retired to bed by now.”
To give it away, Adam’s scent, was giving away the little bit of truth we’d found. “No. I’ll keep it for now.” I slipped my hands against the fine satin lining. “I’ll press it and return it to him on Thursday.”
My sister unbuttoned the coat she’d borrowed and laid it in my arms. “We need to talk about your inviting that stranger to come to Mama’s party.”
“He’ll need to come for his cape. I want him here, Ester. He needs to tell Mama the truth about Adam.”
My sister frowned big, like she’d spent an evening with finicky Mrs. Carter, not the baron, the only one who could validate my story. Rather fitting for the Croome wild child, a wild witness.
With a hand on her hip, she leaned in close. “Ruth. He’s dangerous.”
“He’s family. Isn’t that what Mama’s parties are all about? Estranged family and strange friends coming together.”
“The man kept staring at you. It wasn’t right.”
“His eyes work. Is that a problem?”
Ester shook her head, but that was her way of not accepting things that went against what she wanted. “No, Ruth. Lord Wycliff was staring at you. It was too intense. This will lead to disaster.”
“Would it be better if he had pity in his eyes, like you, Mama, or Papa look at me?”
“Ruth, that’s not what I mean.”
