Page 28 of Duke of Bronze
A peal of laughter caught her attention. She turned to see Martha grinning at her, a chunk of sugarplum wedged between her teeth. Anna's chest tightened.I am not doing enough for them.They refused to accept money, but surely there was something more she could do.
Heavy footfalls outside broke her thoughts. A moment later, the door swung open, and Roderick strode in, weary but grinning. The children squealed and ran to him. He lifted each of them in turn, tossing them into the air before setting them down with exaggerated groans.
His gaze found Anna's, and it was warm. "Does your father know you are traipsing through Whitechapel?"
Anna smirked. "If he ever did, he would surely faint dead away."
"How fortunate for you, then," Roderick chuckled.
She eyed the fresh bruise along his brow. "How went the fight?"
His grin widened. "Can the Mighty Stone be defeated?"
Anna let out a soft laugh. "Perhaps someday."
"This was only the first in a new championship," he added, but an odd expression moved in his eyes.
Anna frowned. "Is something the matter?"
He hesitated. "It is nothing."
She let it pass, for now. Jane poured him tea, then gestured toward the basket. "Anna brought liniment for you and Lydia."
Roderick looked at Anna, something softer in his expression. "Do you ever tire?"
Anna merely smiled, but the thought surfaced once more.I never do enough.
Later, once the broth was ready, she bid them farewell, promising to attend Roderick's fight. She stepped into the street, pulling her cloak tighter against the evening chill.
Then she saw a young man standing across the road, watching her.
At first, she paid him no mind. But as she moved, his gaze followed her; sharp, assessing, and as though he knew exactly who she was.
A chill crept down her spine, and she pulled her cloak tighter, quickening her pace down the street.
"Enter." Colin barely glanced up from the papers on his desk as a knock sounded at the door. Fisher stepped inside, bowed, and positioned himself in front of the desk with his hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"Your Grace, my trip to Whitechapel proved productive."
Colin set his quill aside and leaned back in his chair. "Go on."
"Roderick Millard is competing in the championship. His first fight was today, and from what I gathered, he emerged victorious. However, he finds himself in need of a new sponsor."
Colin arched a brow. "What happened to his previous sponsor?"
"I heard there was some disagreement between them."
"Do you know the nature of this disagreement?" Colin's fingers tapped idly against the desk.
"No, Your Grace. It was difficult enough to learn that much. Millard keeps his affairs guarded."
Colin nodded before motioning for Fisher to continue.
"There is indeed a woman named Lydia living with him," Fisher said. "But she hasn't been seen outside in years. Some even believe she is dead."
"What is Lydia's last name?" Colin's brow furrowed.
"I could not find that out. It seems Roderick is fiercely protective of her. If he does not wish for anyone to know something, then no one does."
