Page 41 of Stolen Magic

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Page 41 of Stolen Magic

“Aye,” Shaw responded wisely.“And that’s seven years closer to the last roll call, sir.”

Evander pursed his lips when the pair began arguing in low voices.

Leon raised an eyebrow.“Are they always like this?”

“Alas, yes.”

The Frenchman fell silent.

“You’re brooding again,” Leon remarked as they descended the steps of the Institute.“I can practically hear the gears turning in that brilliant mind of yours.”

Evander gave him a sidelong glance.“This is hardly the time for levity, Leon.”

“Au contraire, mon cher,” the Frenchman countered with a wry smile, “it is precisely when matters are most grave that we need moments of lightness.”

“I’ll report back to Scotland Yard and brief Commander Winterbourne,” Rufus said as they approached the police carriage.His gaze flicked uneasily between Evander and Leon.“Will you be joining us, your Grace?”

“Not immediately,” Evander replied.“I need to speak with Viggo about these developments.Nightshademight know something we don’t.”

Leon’s expression sobered, something that looked like displeasure clouding his eyes momentarily.“Before you dash off, might I suggest we discuss our next steps over an early dinner?I’ve gathered some intelligence from Paris that may be relevant to our investigation.”

The invitation hung in the air between them, laden with unspoken history.Evander hesitated, torn between professional necessity and personal unease as he considered his options.

The last thing he wanted was to spend an evening alone with Leon, especially when he wished to talk to Viggo.But if the Frenchman had intelligence that could help them locate Whitley and Thornfield, he couldn’t afford to refuse either.

Besides, something about Leon’s behaviour in Rigley’s office and his current tone told Evander he needed to hear what his former lover had to say.

“Very well,” he conceded reluctantly.“Where and when?”

Leon’s face brightened a little.“There’s a French restaurant near Covent Garden, not far from the hotel where I’m staying.It’s calledLe Petit Château.The chef is from Lyon and his coq au vin is magnifique.Say six o’clock?”

Evander had heard of the place.He dipped his head.

“I shall meet you there.”

They parted ways outside the Institute, Evander summoning a hansom cab to take him home.He needed to change.More importantly, he intended to send a message to Viggo to come to his place tonight.

Hargrove greeted Evander at the door when he reached his Mayfair townhouse.

“Welcome home, my Lord,” the manservant said, taking his coat.He observed him shrewdly.“You appear rather fatigued.Shall I prepare a bath?”

“Thank you, Jasper.That would be most welcome.”Evander removed his gloves and handed them over.“I’ll be dining out this evening.Le Petit Château,the French restaurant in Covent Garden.”

Though Hargrove’s expression remained impassive, Evander detected a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“Very good, my Lord.With Mr.Stonewall, I presume?”

“You presume wrong,” Evander replied tartly.A hint of tension entered his voice.“If you must know, I am having dinner with Comte Beaulieu.”

Hargrove’s eyes bulged, surprise turning to full-blown shock.“Not that French dunderhead, my Lord?!”

“Mr.Hargrove!”Mrs.Sinclair warned sharply as she entered the foyer and caught the tail end of their conversation.“Please mind your language.”

Evander greeted his housekeeper with a warm look.Cordelia Sinclair had been his nanny since he was an infant and had practically raised him.She was the only Ravenwood employee who knew all his secrets, including the one he had yet to reveal to Viggo.

“Has anyone ever told you that you move with the stealth of a ninja, Mrs.S?”Hargrove grunted.

Mrs.Sinclair’s eyes shrank to slits.“Is that an insult, Mr.Hargrove?”


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