Page 30 of A Raven Returns

“Yes.”

Fogg exhaled a huff of relief. “Thank you, Ash. I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

Ash nodded once. “Let’s not talk any more about it. It’s in the past now.”

“Thank you.”

“So what happened to the footman I left you with?”

“I let him go back to work. I assume you scared him straight.”

“Me? You’re the one who threatened to cut out his tongue and send it to his mother.”

Fogg chuckled. “I did, didn’t I?” He shrugged. “I wanted to be sure he wouldn’t tell anyone what I’d just done to you.”

“I think you accomplished that. I suppose I should probably talk to the poor young man and assure him he’s not going to meet a violent end. He’s probably scared half to death working here now.”

Fogg shrugged. “Perhaps, but I bet he’ll never steal from you again.”

Ash shook his head. He preferred his employees to not be terrified of him. “Now, what have you managed to discover about the man who took advantage of Gwen?”

“Well, we know the address where he was living from the letters, but he seems to have run off and gone into hiding. I have assigned someone to watch the house, as well as his townhouse in London. He’s going to be a little bit tricky to… see to.”

Ash raised a brow. “Why is that?”

“He’s the third son of a very wealthy baron. Which seems to be the reason for this whole charade. Apparently, in order to inherit anything, he has to produce at least one son. He’s been married for five years with no offspring.”

“It seems like a lot of effort to procure a child. There are plenty of desperate women, pregnant out of wedlock and happy to sell their baby.”

Fogg shrugged. “Perhaps he was set on it being from his own loins?”

“Or perhaps he saw an opportunity to live out some depraved fantasy.”

“I don’t know any of the details of what occurred with Gwen while he had her.”

“She has marks on her body, and he’s been forcing himself on her for a year in an attempt to get her pregnant.”

A shadow settled over Fogg’s eyes and a muscle ticked beside his eye. He loathed mistreatment of women as much as Ash. They were kindred spirits in that regard.

“We’ll find him, Ash, and baron’s son or not, we’ll deal with him.”

“I”—Ash pointed to his chest—“will personally see to him. Make sure everyone knows that. He needs to still be alive and conscious when I meet him. I want to see the fear and pain on his face as I inflict it.” A shiver raced through Ash’s body as rage washed over him.

“Understood.”

There was a knock at the door. “Come,” Ash called.

Moulton opened the door. “My lord, you have a visitor. A Mr. Gibson. I’ve put him and the child in the blue drawing room.”

The announcement raised his spirits immensely. “Excellent, Moulton. I’ll be down shortly. Please see that they have tea and some scones or something to eat.”

“Yes, my lord.” He bowed and was gone.

Fogg’s brow was raised, but he didn’t say a word.

“Don’t you dare to start walking on eggshells, Fogg.”

He chuckled. “Very well. Who the devil is here to see you? And with a child?”

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