Page 42 of A Most Unlikely Lady
Edward nodded, retreating to the entrance. ‘Of course. Please extend my deepest condolences to the family.’
He returned to his office convinced that the Devil’s Sons had claimed another victim. Whatever threat they held over poor Clarence Thurston’s head was enough for the man to take his own life.
Damnation! If they are willing to kill a baron’s son, how easily might they target the daughter of a dead duke?
Impotent rage boiled like acid. The need to find Ivy and ensure she was safe nearly overwhelmed him. Before he could call back his coach and do just that, Reading approached with a message from Philippa.
‘Lady Winterbourne sent a note. She requests your presence post-haste. I wonder if you will get any work done today with all this rushing hither and thither,’ he mused.
Edward had no time to engage in verbal warfare with his secretary. He hadn’t yet removed his coat, so he simply nodded at Reading, turned, and swept out of 4 Whitehall Place only to have his rage further stoked upon arrival at the duchess’ mansion.
The very woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about sat serenely next to Philippa on her plum settee. He barely had time to register relief before Philippa shattered his calm by handing him yet another note to inspect. This one found in Ivy’s pocket with the damning seal of the Devil’s Sons and actually signed by one of the remaining two leaders. The Wolf. Just thinking such a dangerous man had been so close to Ivy was enough to shatter Edward’s thin shield of control.
Fear washed in and swept away logical thought. ‘I cannot believe you left the orphanage on your own and traipsed halfway across London toeat ices. I certainly hope the treat was worth risking your life.’
Foolish woman! Has she no idea of the dangers facing her?
The Wolf had been close enough to Ivy to sneak a note into her pocket, and on the heels of discovering Clarence Thurston’s ‘accidental’ death, it was enough to make Edward consider locking Ivy away from harm in some tower. The missive slipped into her pocket could just as easily have been a blade thrust into her belly or a bullet embedded in her chest. The very idea turned Edward’s blood to ice and filled his chest with an unholy rage.
Belatedly, he realised she did not know of this increased threat as he had yet to inform them of his morning’s discoveries. In staccato sentences full of barely contained frustration, he described his morning visit to Lord Thurston’s and was gratified to see Ivy’s eyes widen and her cheeks pale. While he despised the thought of frightening her, a little fear could be healthy in promoting caution.
‘Dead?’
Edward nodded.
‘Do you think he intentionally killed himself because of something in the note he received?’ Philippa asked.
Edward nodded once more.
Ivy’s delicate throat constricted as she swallowed. ‘While I certainly held no fond feelings for Clarence Thurston, I wouldn’t wish such a fate on anyone.’
‘Do you see now how foolhardy it was to traipse across London on your own?’ Edward asked, confident her contrition would be forthcoming.
Ivy crossed her arms over her chest, anger bringing rosy colour to her cheeks. ‘I hardly expected my life to be at risk by joining a friend in a public place.’
‘Indeed. A woman should have the freedom to wander at will without risking her life. Blaming Ivy for the threat others pose is an illogical argument. I expect better from you, Edward.’ Philippa glared at Edward. Shame licked the edges of his anger.
Ivy glanced at Philippa; her tremulous smile almost broke him. ‘Thank you.’
Leaning back on the plush pillows, Philippa raised perfectly arched brows. ‘I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you for joining forces withthatharridan.’
Ivy exhaled, pressing her lips together. She swung her gaze from Philippa back to Edward before standing. ‘Clarence Thurston’s death is a tragedy, but one he invited with his own actions. I won’t let fear of these men stop me in my pursuits, and I won’t apologise for my behaviour today because I’ve done nothing wrong. I met with afriend.’ She glared at Philippa for a moment, who responded by thwacking her fan against her palm. ‘To discuss a philanthropic venture that would be incredibly beneficial for theorphansunder my care. An endeavour no one in this room is obligated to assist me with, might I add.’
Philippa rolled her eyes at that.
Ivy continued. ‘It is even more imperative we determine what the Devil’s Sons are about and stop them. I only wish I had paid more attention to who was around me at Gunter’s. Mayhap I could have identified the Wolf, but we are one step closer. Then the commissioner can go back to his life, I can settle into being headmistress without threat to my wards or myself, and you can sit in your beautiful parlour and hate whomever you choose in peace.’
Philippa raised a brow. ‘I do not hate Olivia Smithwick. I just don’t appreciate being manipulated for my social and financial power.’
Ivy huffed out a dry laugh. ‘You do hate Olivia. But you are right. It isn’t fair to coerce you into throwing a charity ball if you have no desire to do so. I shall tell her you are disinclined to host. Now. Can we please get back to this note?’ Ivy leaned forward and tapped a finger on the parchment sitting next to her teacup.
Edward wanted to tear out his hair. ‘Do you not understand the danger is only increasing while you are talking of balls? A man took his own life today because of the Devil’s Sons.’
Philippa and Ivy swivelled to him in unison. ‘We are quite aware of the risks facing us, Edward. While you froth and foam over their threats, Ivy and I are working on how to eliminate them. Would you care to join us, or should you return to your office at Scotland Yard?’
These women are impossible!
But he was hardly going to abandon them. ‘Fine. What charity ball? And how does that have anything to do with this note?’
