Page 92 of Nothing Compares to the Duke
Macadams started barreling toward her, but Rhys stopped him with an arm across the man’s chest.
“Watch your tongue, Inspector, when you speak of my future duchess.” Rhys spared the man one quick glower. “She’s not mad. Simply stubborn as hell and damnably curious.”
“Do you allow her to rush into danger often, Your Grace?”
Rhys ignored the man and turned back toward Bella.
“We should let Macadams do this,” he told her.
“He isn’t the one who found this address,” she whispered while giving the Scotland Yard detective a single glance of acknowledgment. “We did.”
“And if Radley is armed?”
“You should listen to the duke, Miss Prescott.” Macadams had shuffled up beside them and assessed the building through narrowed eyes.
“I listen to him often, Mr. Macadams.” Bella staredat Rhys pointedly. “And he trusts my judgment. Don’t you?”
“I—” Rhys was saved from answering, because at that precise moment the dark green door of number 32 creaked open and a man’s head emerged and then retreated. A moment later the door slammed shut.
In his periphery, Rhys saw a flash of black and then Macadams rushed past him toward the front door. He knocked firmly with the edge of his fist.
“Come out. We know you’re in there.”
Beside Rhys, Bella sighed heavily and approached Macadams.
“Let me try, Detective?”
The man cast a one-arched-brow glance at Rhys and then stepped back, grumbling under his breath the whole time.
Bella rapped on the door with her knuckles. “Pardon me, sir. Might we have a few words with you?” Her voice was firm but pleasant, the opposite of Macadams’s gruff shout.
Rhys feared they’d have to pry the door open or that the man was devising an escape out the back while they lingered in front.
Then the door latch twisted, shocking all of them. The door slid open slowly and a man emerged, stopping just at the threshold.
Rhys could only truly see his profile as he looked down and assessed Bella. He hated that she was in the middle of this and that the man stood ogling her, buthe only needed one glimpse to know. He’d discarded his spectacles and wore his hair longer but Rhys recognized him without a doubt.
Turning, he offered Macadams a nod. “It’s him.”
Rhys spoke the words quietly, but they seemed to draw Radley’s notice. He frowned at the sight of Rhys and then his expression turned to rage when he spotted Macadams.
The detective held out his hands, palms up. “Easy now, Radley.”
Radley offered them a smug smirk, and Rhys wanted to clap the man in irons himself. He strode forward to confront him.
Radley grabbed Bella’s arm, yanked her inside, and slammed the door shut.
Rhys broke into a run to beat Macadams to the door. He twisted the latch but the door had been locked. He pounded hard enough to rattle the ground floor windows.
“Open up, Radley.”
“Let me, Your Grace.”
With far more patience than Rhys could ever muster, Macadams removed two implements from his coat and bent to inspect the door’s lock. He stuck one long needlelike implement inside and slid the other in beside it.
“Hurry, man.” Rhys couldn’t hear any voices coming from the house. His blood pounded so loudly in his ears, he wasn’t sure he could hear anything else. The thought of Bella alone with the man made his stomach turn.
“Got it,” Macadams said.
