Chapter 23
The tension inside the coach was as thick as the fog over the Thames. Alice sat beside Nathaniel, pistol resting on her lap. Nathaniel’s own weapon remained drawn as well, his eyes never leaving the prisoners, now stirring groggily under their watchful eyes.
He didn’t speak, and yet his silence spoke as loudly as a shout.
She knew there must be a thousand questions he wanted to ask her but was biding his time.
She had another thousand questions of her own.
When had he returned? Why hadn’t he told her he was back?
How had he known where she would be? When she saw him leaping out of the shadows to fight by her side, for a moment she thought she was hallucinating.
But he was real. Thunderous and angry. Exuding danger beside her. Making her nerves thrum like a plucked chord with nervousness and excitement.
At last, the coach turned onto a private street at the very end of Hyde Park, behind Kensington Palace.
Alice leaned closer to the window and gave her code name to the man standing guard at the gates.
Recognizing the name as belonging to one of the few people Dalton gave automatic entrance to his home, the guard hastened to open the iron gates.
The coach drove through, its wheels muffled against the granite setts of the street, and then passed between the stone columns of yet another gate guarded by the duke’s own men, this one leading to the house’s private drive.
Unlike the uniform terraces they’d passed along Piccadilly, the houses on this street stood alone.
Huge mansions surrounded by gardens, set back behind high iron gates and flanked by imposing stone pillars.
Dalton was the only peer who lived in this newly built neighborhood, away from Mayfair, the aristocracy’s stronghold.
Most of the other houses belonged to new money.
Industrialists, tycoons, new and foreign money.
However, the Duke of Dalton’s London residence was a perfect fit for a man like him. Secretive and commanding. Self-contained. Secure. The tall hedgerows ensured any comings and goings remained unseen.
Commissioned by the duke some ten years ago, the mansion was not only a fashionable address. It was a fortress cleverly disguised in Portland stone and pediments. Suited to the public duties of the Duke of Dalton—and his private ones.
The coach stopped in front of a portico flanked by Doric columns holding a triangular pediment that protected a heavy carved wood door reinforced with iron.
“You go knock on the door,” Nathaniel murmured, his breath tickling her ear and raising goosebumps all over her arm. “I’ll keep these miscreants in check.”
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and slipped from the coach and up the steps.
The door opened immediately, as if the butler was already expecting her. The duke appeared in shirtsleeves shortly after, hair mussed, as if he had been roused from sleep, but face alert.
“We have brought a couple of men. Guards only, but they might have relevant information.”
Dalton looked once at the coach, then down the drive.
“Bring them around the back.”
At a sign from Nathaniel, the carriage drove on, following the drive that curved around the house to stop near a small carriage house hidden at the back of the gardens.
Once there, they dragged the prisoners out of the coach and into a concealed side entrance. Inside, they followed the duke down a narrow staircase to a reinforced door. He unlocked it with a heavy iron key, revealing a stone-walled cell with barred windows.
“We can hold them here for now,” he said, as they secured the captives. “Tomorrow, after we question them, I’ll see them safely transferred.”
Nathaniel gave a sharp nod. “Let’s have at them, then.”
“Let’s adjourn to my study first,” the duke replied. “You two seem to have had an eventful evening, and I want to hear everything before I interrogate them.”
Dalton’s study, richly appointed in paneled dark walnut and silk wallpaper, featured a profusion of art collected during the duke’s diplomatic travels.
She suspected the art served also the double duty of distracting from the hidden compartments for sensitive documents concealed among the paneling and bookcases.
Dalton took a seat behind the massive mahogany desk and, with a gesture, invited them to take the seats opposite.
“I’d like to know what led to tonight’s bloody adventure,” he said, his gaze skipping between Nathaniel and her.
Nathaniel leaned back against the comfortable armchair, propping an ankle over the opposite knee and lacing his fingers over his stomach. He looked the very picture of insouciance, but she knew better. His eyes came to rest upon her, pinning her in place with the intensity of his gaze.
“I would like to know that as well. I was just approaching our house when I saw Alice going out.” Although he spoke to Dalton, his eyes remained on her. “She looked…ready for trouble. A look I recognized from hundreds of other missions.”
He glanced at the duke, then back at her.
“So I followed.” He gestured toward the armchair where she sat. “You can take up the tale from here, dear.”
Oh, crap. She was in trouble now.
Regardless of the valid reasons she had for undertaking this night mission on her own, she knew neither man was going to agree with her.
Taking a deep breath to bolster her courage, she started the tale.
“I’ve been working on Phipps journal.” She looked from Dalton to Nathaniel.
They both sat, stony faced, listening. Neither man was likely to interrupt or make things easier for her.
“We suspected from the beginning that not all the documents retrieved used the same cipher. The journal, in particular, uses a simpler cipher. I was able to crack it this afternoon and learned there was a meeting taking place tonight. It seemed like an important one. The time, date, and location were on the journal, so—”
“So, of course, you decided to drop in uninvited. And alone. How very enterprising of you, my dear.” Nathaniel’s sarcasm barely disguised darker emotions. His eyes snapped with fury and disbelief.
Her own temper sparked. “Well, what other choice did I have? You were not around to accompany me, were you? You left in the middle of the mission and stayed away for over a week!”
“I returned to London two days ago. If you hadn’t gone off gallivanting with Ardmore, you would have known that. It’s not like you stayed put either,” Nathaniel retorted.
“You came back two days ago? I didn’t know that.”
Why did that hurt even more than him staying away for so long? Because he hadn’t sought her out immediately, that’s why. While she had been pining away for his return, she had not been a priority for him. The hurt gave her the anger she needed to stand up to him.
“You should have informed me of your return immediately! But of course, how can I expect that when you didn’t even bother to write to me once in all the days you were away.”
“I did write to you!”
“While watching you squabble like schoolchildren is definitely amusing.” Dalton’s sardonic voice cut through their argument.
“At the moment, we need to focus on the matter at hand. Save your problems for when you are alone.” His incisive gaze skipped between the two of them.
“And I suggest you two have a long and thorough talk. You are both laboring under misinformation. But now, and in my office, is not the time or place for that conversation.”
Alice frowned. Reflecting briefly on Dalton’s words. What on earth did that mean? But he was right. This was not the moment to air their grievances with each other.
“You are right. I’m sorry. As I was saying, this meeting was a golden opportunity to learn more. Maybe even discover the identity of Lord A. I couldn’t let it slip away.”
“Hogwash. There were other things you could have done, even if I was not available.” Nathaniel didn’t seem to be in a conciliatory mood. “You could have notified Dalton, for one. Ask for backup.”
“I attempted to notify Dalton! As soon as I found out, I sent a message here. The messenger returned, saying the duke was not at home.”
“I had a prior commitment this evening,” Dalton confirmed with a touch of regret.
“You see? I tried to do it the proper way. But no one was available to accompany me.”
“Then you shouldn’t have gone,” Nathaniel replied, leaning forward in his chair and glaring at her.
“And waste this opportunity?”
“To hell with the opportunity, Alice! You almost lost your life tonight. Nothing is worth that.”
“Nathaniel is right, Alice,” the duke remarked, his voice stern. “You acted recklessly. You know the rule about not going alone. Ever.”
“But—”
“No buts. The rules exist for a reason.”
Her lips compressed in a tight line, and her nostrils flared.
But under her irritation, there was begrudging acceptance.
The scolding was well deserved. She knew she had acted recklessly.
At the time, it had seemed like a good idea.
But if Nathaniel hadn’t appeared like an avenging angel, emerging from the darkness to shout a warning and fight by her side, the outcome of tonight might have been quite different.
No, not might. It would have been different.
She would have been the one killed or wounded.
Or taken prisoner. Of all the possible fates, she feared the latter the worst. They could have tortured, raped her, or even made her disappear before anyone could find her.
A shiver ran through her at the thought.
“I might have gotten a bit carried away,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I feel this case has been stuck ever since Mrs. Phipps died. Can you fault me for getting excited at the possibility of discovering a new lead?”
It wasn’t quite an apology, but it was the best they were going to get out of her. It’s not as if they had been available to help her.