Page 105 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
In truth, it wasn’t loaded, but she’d brought it along in case anyone saw a lone woman as easy pickings—and indeed, one young lout had thought to approach before she pointed the weapon at him.
Her hand was steady as she pointed it at Lord Rowton now. “Daenae make me use this,” she said. “But I will if I have to. I returned to London for my husband’s sake, and Iwillfind him.”
There was a sick, twisting feeling at the pit of her stomach that made her certain something terrible had happened. Or, perhaps, was going to happen.
She had to find him.
Lord Rowton eyed the weapon with trepidation. “Now then, Your Grace, there’s no need to be hasty.”
“There is every need. Where is he?”
The way he sighed, sinking into a chair and putting his head in his hands, told her that she had finally gotten through to him. He mentioned an address she only knew vaguely—a dockyard by the river. No doubt at this hour, it would be near deserted.
“Why?” she demanded.
“He found the fellow Moreton paid to murder his brother. He left barely ten minutes ago.” Lord Rowton checked his pocket watch. “If he’d remained here any longer, he could have told you to remain home himself.”
“Aye, and it would have done him as much good as it did ye,” Isobel snapped. “I’ve had enough of other people deciding what’s best for me. If I’m old enough to choose a husband and outrun a murderer, I can choose to confront them both.”
She tossed Lord Rowton the pistol, and he yelped as he caught it gingerly.
“It’s empty,” she told him. “Unloaded. Now, I have a husband to find.”
“Isobel,” Lord Rowton said, catching her arm as she passed him on the way to the door. “Let me accompany you. I would feel better if?—”
“No,” she said, interrupting him. “Call the Runners. Send them to the yard. I have a feeling we’ll be needing them.”
Lord Rowton paled a little. “Do you really believe so?”
“I have no doubt,” she said grimly. “A man who would accept a bribe to kill would rather risk anything than compromising his own future. I have no doubt he expects to harm Adrian, and I won’t see that happen.”
Lord Rowton hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. And take this,” he produced another pistol from his coat, handing it to her.
The weapon felt heavy in Isobel’s hand—this one certainly wasn’t unloaded.
“I brought it with me, in case Adrian ever let me join him. But be careful, Isobel.”
Isobel tucked the weapon away in her skirts, “Thank ye, Joseph.”
“Adrian might be a stubborn fellow, and he doesn’t know how to admit these things to you, but you have become very important to him. That’s why he sent you away.”
Isobel started at Lord Rowton for a long time, her heart lodging in her throat.
All these things she knew, sheknew, but that was not the whole truth. Because Adriandidcare for her; she did not doubt that. And yet it was not the only reason he had sent her away. He sent her away both for her safety and because he was afraid for himself.
“Thank ye,” she said at last. “I’ll do my best.”
“He would never forgive himself if something happened to you,” he said.
“Aye,” Isobel said. “And I would never forgive myself if something happened to him.”
Chapter Thirty
“Where the hell is that bastard?” Adrian huffed under his breath.
He paced as he waited, the mist rising from the river catching on his heavy coat. The evening felt more reminiscent of autumn than winter now, and he scowled at the sky, which swallowed the moon and promised rain.
Where the hell was Briggs? If he didn’t arrive, Adrian would have to exert his influence to drag him out from where he was hiding, but if he went to all that effort, Moreton might discover what he was doing. Instead of chasing after Isobel, he would then turn his attention to Adrian and whathewas doing, and that would be decidedly unfortunate.
