Page 42 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
What is he trying to tell me?
“Safe journey,” he said while stepping away.
Eleanor felt like she was at a crossroad and that she needed a dowsing rod to know which one to take.
Are you going to stop me…are you going to ask me to stay…or should I leave?
Having little experience with reading people’s emotions, Eleanor believed his cool distance told her he was unconcerned with her departure.
As the carriage rolled off, she saw the Duke of Oberton was still looking at her with the same warm look and she had to force herself to look away. A strange pain was in the middle of her chest and a bizarre urge took her as she looked back. She barely spotted him before the trees and hedges obscured him.
He looked unconcerned, but his touch and that moment in the garden…had he aimed to kiss me?
Chapter 12
The night was inky black and the rowdy hoots and hollers from the nearby tavern Aaron and Inspector Harding were spying on drowned out the soft susurrations of the dark river not too far from them.
Earlier that day Harding had contacted him saying he had not only proved the rumor right but had also tracked down the guilty party to a tavern he frequented.
He had been warned to let them handle it, but Aaron was not going to let this opportunity go despite how he was going to put himself in danger. He wanted to look the man in the eye, demand his confession and then send him off to Newgate to rot, possibly with a black eye.
They had been on the lookout for over two hours and, at first, the stench of the putrid river had tempted Aaron to cover his nose with a scented handkerchief, but he did not and now, hours later, he barely noticed it. Six former ex-army officers, all armed with pistols, were stationed around the premises, covering every possible escape route so there was nil chance of him getting away.
“Cummings, you say his name is?”
“Aye,” Harding replied while turning his spyglass. “From what I know, he escaped debtors’ prison by the skin of his teeth and he owes Wyndrake everything but his soul. This was his way of paying it off.”
“I hope we can get him so his testimony will prove Wyndrake culpable of his crime,” Aaron said.
Suddenly, a loud blast ran through the air, and a body flew out of the door seconds before another body ran out and darted through the dark. Harding dropped his spyglass and took off with Aaron a step behind him.
Ahead of him, the tails of a greatcoat were flapping in the air as the suspect ran. Another figure ran out and from the back door of the tavern and the silver of the moon glinted over the gun as it shot off. Cummings lurched to the side and rammed through a barrow, but kept going.
He increased his pace just as Cummings swung around, leveled his pistol and fired off. The bullet whistled a mere foot away from his cheek and lodged into a wall. Cumming’s uttered an oath before running off again and Aaron, having no time to consider his mortality, forced his feet to go faster. Harding was in front of him. The pounding feet of two other army men were behind him when one darted forward like a shot and outpaced them.
Aaron darted past stumbling drunks and heaps of putrid garbage that kept making his eyes water. Cummings skid to a halt, looked sideways and ran down a left alley and as Harding came upon the mouth of the alley, a blazing barrel was hurled out from the inside and smashed on the pavement feet away from the inspector.
He quickly dodged it but lost his footing and fell. He still gestured widely, “Go, go!”
Aaron leaped over the smoldering remains of the barrel and darted into the dark back street. There was no sign of the culprit but he heard the furious thud of footsteps ahead. The darkness grew thicker as he was now under the coverage of sheets that were spread across the alley opening. When he did get a break he could, by the small glitter of moonlight, see the flutter of the man’s greatcoat.
“Stop!” an officer shouted. “You can’t escape.”
Aaron rounded a corner skid to a stop. He found that all four of them were in a cul-de-sac and their prey was up against a high unscalable wall. Cumming cursed loudly, spun and faced them. The two constables lifted their pistols at him and ordered him to surrender.
The man, half-shadowed, twisted and his voice was a serpentine sneer, “An’ face what, guv? If you take me an’ force me to confess an’ give me the gaol,hewill find a way to kill me before that, so to save you all the trouble…”
“No!” Aaron yelled before a blast sent the man crumpling to the ground. He turned away from the gruesome scene with a deep grimace and the taunting thought that this had been his only chance to do right by Julius.
Harding came to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “To be honest, I am surprised Wyndrake allowed him to live this long. He’d be dead anyway, Your Grace, at least he went on his terms.”
Aaron scrubbed a hand over his face, “A mere mercy.”
“Let my men drive you home, Your Grace,” Harding said. “You held out well tonight. Were you in military school?”
“No,” Aaron said, “But Wilcox and I would run every morning and spar at Eton and Oxford. I guess I trained without even knowing I did.”
The rowdy scream and laughs from the tavern had not ceased a bit and Aaron shifted away as a man guzzling from a bottle stumbled past him. His arm was wrapped around the shoulder of a woman in sheer nothings and they both giggled while turning a corner.
