Page 95 of Lady Gambit
“Gibbs is as shrewd as they come. I trust he will alert us the moment he sees something suspicious. But if it will settle your fears, I’ll enter the taproom and assess the situation there.”
Daventry’s sangfroid used to be a quality Dorian admired—not anymore. “I’m certain you wouldn’t be so composed if your wife was upstairs, waiting for someone to shoot her in the back.”
“Probably not,” Daventry said, his remark feeding Dorian’s growing apprehension. “But Miss Chance is armed, and we’ve eyes and ears everywhere.”
“What makes you so sure Bertram will come? He’ll know it’s a trap.”
Daventry’s grin said he’d dealt with enough fiends to understand their motives. “Why do you think I chose the inn where Miss Chance’s mother was shot? Revisiting the scene to finish the job will be too tempting for Bertram to resist.”
Dorian cursed.
He was one breath away from ruining the plan, from leaping out of the carriage and charging to Delphine’s room, but thecomment she made as he kissed her goodbye kept echoing in his mind.
There’s no proof Mr Bertram has committed a crime.
Meldrum would be blamed.
Nora was mad.
Mrs Haggert was the blackmailer.
All evidence against Bertram was circumstantial.
My only hope of gaining justice for my parents is to force him out of the shadows. And I can’t live a happy life if I’m always looking over my shoulder.
Dorian scrubbed his face with his hand and sighed. “The wait is killing me. It’s the worst form of torture.”
“That is the nature of love. To love someone so completely is not without risk or hardship. But I know how this ends. And it’s nothing like the bleak image you paint in your mind.”
He tried to banish his fears and imagine them strolling through the gardens at Mile End, slipping into the orangery to make love. He couldn’t be without her. She brought meaning to his empty existence. She brought hope where there had been despair.
“There is something I’ve not told her,” Daventry said as he peered into the dim courtyard and observed those entering the inn on foot. “I feared it would distract her from her course.”
Dorian’s stomach churned. Another sad story would be one too many. “Does it relate to her parents? I’m not sure she can cope with hearing more depressing tales.”
“It relates to her life before she became Delphine Chance. This is good news. Oscar Chadwick’s father is alive and living in Chichester.”
Dorian sat forward, shock and anger waging war. “Good Lord! Her grandfather is alive, and you’ve not told her? Does Aaron know?”
“No. I had to be certain of the facts. I’d not raise her hopes only to dash them again.” Daventry narrowed his gaze as a carriage rattled by. “Tonight, I need her to focus on catching Bertram.”
Dorian studied the vehicle. The groom’s familiar green livery raised his pulse another notch.
The sudden bang on the window added to the mounting tension, too.
“Something about this don’t feel right,” Gibbs said as soon as Dorian lowered the window. He scanned the cobbled lane leading to the inner courtyard. “We’re like trout nibbling the bait. This cove is cunning. And he’s playing us for fools.”
Daventry fell silent for a moment—lost in thought.
That’s when a figure marched towards them, jabbing a finger at Gibbs. “You! You there! I recognise you from the Old Swan.”
Saints and sinners!
What was the Earl of Retford doing at the Belle Sauvage?
Dorian’s father strode up to Gibbs. “I assume my son is here. Fetch him before I raze this damn place to the ground.”
“Fetch him yourself. I ain’t your lackey.” Gibbs shooed the earl away. “I don’t care who you are. I answer to no one but my maker.”
