Dickie shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Let me get this straight. You two are half-brothers and grew up together on the old Marquess's Norfolk estate?"
"Right." The brother with the unmistakable height and green eyes of the old marquess replied.
"I'm the one born to Mrs. Godet..." He stopped a moment before adding, "...on the wrong side of the blanket."
"He kept James's birth a secret and threatened the midwife and servants if anyone revealed Mrs. Godet's baby hadn't died. He was brutal toward both of us growing up in the country, so we stayed together to protect ourselves," the young heir to the Ormonde title added. "And now we're trying to find his sister."
"If you mean Adrienne, she's safe, under the protection of the Earl of Framlingwood. But the marquess has sworn to have her killed, transported, or hung for attacking him with a vase and disfiguring his face all those years ago."
Her brother, who'd introduced himself as James Godet, held up his hand. "All I want is to see she's taken care of. I don't want her alone in the world, fending for herself." He had Adrienne's dark good looks and the same raven hair.
His brother interrupted. "Once my blasted father gives up and leaves this world, I plan to settle a portion on James. He'll have a fine home in near Glasgow with plenty of income to take care of himself and his sister.
"We've been looking for a long time without any luck until we heard about the attack over on Bond Street, and the gossip sheets named Adrienne as the woman assaulted."
James continued, "We assumed it was an assassin hired by our father, but we haven't been able to find any evidence he's retained anyone to harm her."
"And the marquess has been dying for the last month. He hasn't left his bedchamber in all that time. That's why we're here in London." Adrienne's brother gave Dickie a pleading look. "Since you seem to know her well, please tell me she's being well treated and protected."
Dickie gave him a broad smile. "She's under the protection of the Earl of Framlingwood, but her bodyguard is Obadiah Lassen, the best in London. He's in charge of security at Goodrum'sHouse of Pleasure." He then turned a dark look on both of them. "He's a mountain of a man, and God pity any ruffian who tries to snatch Adrienne...and that includes you lot or your father. Now let me go so I can let her decide whether or not she wants to meetyou."
11 September,1826
Number One Townhouse, Grosvenor Street
Obadiah ripped through the last cloth bond securing his left foot to Adrienne's bed. He growled in triumph and leapt to his feet. Since he felt like thrashing someone, he padded over to the bell pull for Young Rutherford. He picked up his trousers and shirt from the floor and pulled them on whilst waiting for the little conniving bastard of an under-butler.
When Young Rutherford tapped on the door, Obadiah flung it open hard enough to rattle the hinges. The little Babe of Grace stood flanked by his older Abram Cove brothers. He could have taken on any of the Rutherford gang brothers one-on-one, but together? Obadiah might or might not survive the resulting battle royal. And even if he did, the old man, Toplofty would get him in the end. The five brothers were quiet as the grave but the glowering looks on their faces would have caused a lesser man than Obadiah to take immediate flight.
"I suppose you lot are proud of yourselves, helping a woman humiliate the only man who loves her."
Young Rutherford was the only one of the brothers stupid enough to challenge him. "I'd think a man who really loves a woman and acts like it, wouldn't end up tied to her bed being humiliated." With that, the brothers turned, like a regiment ofsoldiers, and headed back down the hallway toward the servant passageway to the kitchens below.
Obadiah stood silently for long minutes after the Rutherford Gang's exit. He recalled the early morning hours when Adrienne had ripped loose one of his bonds before running like a scalded cat. If he were honest with himself, he'd been more aroused than humiliated when he'd awoken from being drugged and tied to her bed.
He'd brought all of this torture upon himself. His pride and jealously had caused him to endanger the only woman he'd ever loved. She'd lived most of her life never feeling safe. And now he might have been the cause of adding one more terror for her to bear on her own slender shoulders.
He'd been angry when last they'd made love, and he'd forced her to keep his seed. Now she'd told him she might be with child,hischild. Christ! She was probably wandering the stews of London, alone. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to find her and fast. And then he'd take that hellcat directly to a vicar.
13
11 SEPTEMBER, 1826
OFFICES OF INVESTIGATOR ARCHER COLWYN
Great Queen Street
Col smoothed out the message just delivered from a man dressed in footman's livery that he couldn't identify. The servant's uniform was not recognizable as that of any great house he knew.
Before reading the message, his eyes were drawn to the all-too-familiar signature on the bottom of the sheet of fine vellum--Captain El, now the Duchess of Chelmsford. With that observation, he went on high alert as he skimmed over the words.
I have reliable information from our mutual friend in the Rutherford Gang that you should be aware there is another runner out to destroy you at Bow Street. T.R. had only a sketch of information, but I'm wondering if perhaps the man trying to discredit you might be our shared enemy...
Yours, & Etc., Captain Eleanor Whitcombe
Col mentally sorted through all the current runners, trying to decide which one might possibly harbor ill will against him.There was a lot of "side business" all of the runners engaged in, not all of it necessarily savory. He'd tried to keep all of his side investigation business as above board as possible, but he realized many of his cohorts did not have the same intent.
To complicate matters, the establishment of the "Peelers" had sent a cold wave of shock through the minions of Bow Street. He feared many of them were twisting the system to line their own pockets in the event the city might eventually phase them out of existence.
