Page 72 of A Little Bit Dangerous
A fool couldn’t miss how this woman made him feel. Despite longing for an opportunity to prove himself worthy of his brother’s respect, his only thoughts were of Isabella.
The sooner they dealt with this matter, the sooner she would be in his bed. Mrs Maloney wasn’t stupid or blind and would not deprive them of time alone together.
Christian stepped closer to the carriage and addressed Gibbs. “We’ll walk to the warehouse. Pete will come with us while you gather a few friends in case we need reinforcements.”
Gibbs had a stern word with Pete, reminding him to take every precaution. “I’ll be a few minutes behind, no more.”
As they readied to leave, Christian drew Aramis aside. He lowered his voice, casting a glance Miss Lawton’s way. “She’s everything to me. Do you understand?”
Aramis sighed. “As regrettable as the situation may be, I understand.”
Pete directed them past the cramped terraced houses occupied by seafaring men, to a row of warehouses opposite the fields near Rope Walk.
It was dark but for the soft glow of light from one window. They passed a group of men drinking on the street, taking turns to swig from a bottle. One nodded to Pete but made no comment.
Aramis seemed disappointed they’d avoided an altercation.
Christian’s fears had nothing to do with their current predicament and everything to do with the conte’s ugly threat. He reached for Isabella’s hand. “There’s no need to run. I’ll not let the conte take you.”
She looked up at him, her wide brown eyes conveying an inner sadness. “The conte is more than a little dangerous. He would have killed my mother if she’d left him. I’ve seen how ruthless he can be.”
“On his own, he’s nothing.”
The same was true of all men.
“Perhaps.” Her sigh sounded like it came from the soul. “Let’s pray Mr Daventry is right, and we find a means to charge my father with a crime. It might encourage the conte to flee.”
The lack of conviction in her voice was unmistakable.
Days ago, she had asked him to name his worst fear. There were two, but he’d been unable to choose or repeat them aloud. He feared loving a woman. It made a man weak. Vulnerable. Gave him the sense he was standing on unstable ground. He feared loving someone so deeply he couldn’t cope when they left—be it a journey to an otherworldly plane or far across a volatile sea.
Now, both of their fears had been realised.
And all they could do was place their faith in the Lord.
“This is it.” Pretty Pete’s hoarse voice dragged Christian from his reverie. The scarred man pointed to a brick building. A brass and steel combination lock secured the large wooden doors, one requiring the correct six letters to spring the latch. “Norway. That’s the code. I heard one of Snell’s men mention it in the tavern.”
Christian smiled to himself.
If only collecting evidence had been this easy.
Pete gestured to Aramis. “You’ll have to open it. I can’t read or write. I could have a wild guess, but happen we’ll be here for hours.”
Aramis obliged, but the lock remained steadfast. He twirled the brass barrels, spelling the word backwards. The lock sprang open. Aramis removed it and slipped it into his pocket before insisting they all step back as he yanked open the heavy door. It creaked and groaned.
The stale smell of tobacco and rum assailed Christian’s nostrils. “I think we have a rough idea what Snell is smuggling.”
“Let me enter first.” Aramis peered into the dark depths of the cavernous room. “Follow when I say it’s safe to do so.” He disappeared into the shadows, as eager as Christian to bring the investigation to a swift conclusion.
A minute passed. A minute of clattering and banging before Aramis assured them it was safe to enter.
Christian kept Isabella close and told Pete to stand guard at the door until Gibbs arrived.
“There’s nothing here but empty crates.” Aramis gestured to the rows of wooden containers lining the wall. “I’ve inspected the ones with lids to ensure no one was hiding inside.”
Once his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, Christian moved to examine the crates. Some slats were broken. Some had dents and score marks littering the panels.
He glanced at Aramis. “Did you find anything of interest?”
