Page 59 of A Most Unlikely Lady
I must speak with Millie. Before tonight. I have questions.
And she couldn’t very well ask Edward what they were supposed to do when he just gave that power to her. The very idea inspired a new wave of heat to rush through her. No doubt her skin was turning three different shades of crimson.
She watched Edward’s gaze dip to her neck and knew he saw the splotchy patches. Pressing her hand against the stain, she tried to hide the evidence of her embarrassment. He gently gripped her wrist, pulling her hand away.
‘Don’t. Don’t hide from me. One day, perhaps you’ll show me how far that beautiful blush travels over you.’ He pressed his lips together and dropped her wrist, as though wishing he could call back his words. But it was too late. She was already imagining it. Standing naked in front of Edward, letting his eyes roam wherever they chose as desire and innocence painted her skin in patterns of red and cream. She should be repulsed, but instead, the pulse in her cleft grew sharp. ‘Forgive me.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I will. Nor will I forget. The ideas you inspire, Edward.’
His pupils dilated as he took a careful step backwards. ‘Then I shall take my leave and allow you privacy for your wonderings. Though, I do hope you’ll share them with me later.’
Scandalous man!
‘Farewell, Edward.’
Cutting a sharp bow, his eyes never left hers. The intensity of his gaze nearly burnt her to a crisp.
‘Farewell for now, Ivy. Until tonight.’ And with that, he turned and left.
Ivy picked up her teacup in shaky hands and listened to his footsteps. She waited until the front door shut before she abandoned her tea and raced to her room. It was imperative she dash off a missive to Millie. Immediately. With any luck, her friend could arrange to arrive before the others. Much needed to be discussed before their meeting, and very little of it concerned the investigation.
* * *
‘I still remember the days when punctuality meant something.’ Reading didn’t look up from the report he was writing as Edward strode past and banged open the door to his office.
‘I still remember the days when assistants assisted instead of buzzing away in my ear like an annoying little bee who has lost his honeypot.’
‘Bees don’t have honeypots. They have honeycombs.’
‘They also have queens who expect them to complete the tasks they’ve been given, and that – although I owe you no explanation – is the cause for my tardiness this morning.’
That and a tryst in the kitchen with Ivy that had my blood so hot, I ordered a cold bath at my townhouse before dressing and coming into the office.
Edward still hadn’t managed to adjust his morning schedule while sleeping at the orphanage, but the added hassle of returning to his townhouse to change back into his gentleman’s clothes was worth the time and trouble if it meant Ivy was learning to trust him. Based on their conversation today, she might be feeling safe enough to take a terrifying leap. No price was too high for the immeasurable gift of her good faith.
But I’m certainly not going to share any of that with Reading. The man is impossible as it is. I can’t imagine how miserable he would make my life if he knew how far I’ve taken things with Ivy. Or more importantly, how far I want to take them tonight.
Once he caught the scent of a secret, Reading was like a dog with a bone, relentlessly chewing until he reached the marrow of truth. So, Edward carefully guarded his expression.
‘What exactly were you doing for the Queen this morning?’ Reading looked up from his desk, placing his quill on the inkstand and shaking sand on the parchment to dry his carefully scribed words.
‘Moving one step closer to catching the Wolf. I’m sure of it. But I can’t explain this to you now. There is much to be done. If only I could find an assistant who spent less time worrying about my whereabouts and more time focusing on his work.’
Reading stared at him for a full five ticks of the clock.
Edward removed his coat. ‘Nothing to say? That’s not like you.’
‘I’m trying to formulate an adequate response to such a load of tripe.’
Striding into his office, Edward felt a remarkable sense of well-being at besting Reading despite the damning evidence he and Ivy had uncovered.
The Devil’s Sons were targeting orphanages. It made a horrible kind of sense. Originally, they coerced young women flooding into London from the country, looking for positions in grand houses. The young women would arrive for an interview, accept a cup of secretly drugged tea, and find themselves nailed into coffins and shipped across the Channel with no way to return. But so many of those women had parents, siblings, friends. People who would notice they were gone. Cause a fuss. Demand answers. Draw attention. Orphans didn’t have anyone. With so many foundling houses overrun, children ran away or returned to the streets with frightening frequency. Overworked caregivers didn’t have time to worry about missing orphans, much less search for them when so many new candidates were waiting for a bed. It was the perfect place to abduct children without anyone of importance paying the least attention.
‘Until now,’ Edward murmured to himself. He placed the file he had brought with him on the desk, flipped it open, and removed the two notes. One a list, the other a threat. One found in Thurston’s pocket, the other in Ivy’s. He placed them next to each other on his desk before pulling out a clean sheet of parchment to write up a new report for the Prime Minister telling him nothing, and a separate one for the Queen telling her everything.
He was interrupted from his work by a wide-eyed Reading. ‘Sir, Lord High Chancellor Hardgrave, the Duke of Kerry, is here to see you.’
As Hardgrave walked into the office, the always unflappable Reading stared at him like a puppy might stare at a pork chop, or a child might look longingly at one of Gunter’s freshly scooped ices.
