Chapters (46)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Back Cover
“Rowles…there’s something I need to tell you,” she said with an unsteady voice, even as her hands quickly rolled up the parchments and tucked them under her arm. “But I’ll have to tell you in the carriage. No. Wait.” She paused, regarding him critically, then said, “I will explain later, but…I need you to trust me.” Heart pounding, she breathed deeply, trying to slow the wild galloping of her heart.
“Whatever you need.”
Joan nodded. “I need you to hire a hack and pick me up at the park, east gate. And I need you to run.”
“A hack?” Rowles frowned. “Why, when we can—”
“I promise to explain,” Joan cut in. “But we haven’t the time now. Morgan is in danger.”
Then Rowles said the most beautiful words she’d ever heard. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he said. And all but ran out the study door.
He trusted her.
Her heart swelled with the power of it.
Only to sink.
Because he trusted her now.
Would he trust her when he found out the truth?
That was a question she wished she could already answer.
Twenty-five
Rowles rushed down the hall and out the door, only to take a leisurely pace to his carriage—should anyone be watching. And it was Mayfair, so it was to be assumed that someone was, indeed, always watching. He took his carriage out of Grosvenor Square far enough to find a street that had several hacks lining the side, all awaiting fares. Instructing the driver to stop on the next street, he stepped from his own carriage and quickly found a hack to hire.
In less than fifteen minutes, he was arriving by the designated gate. A woman dressed in widow’s garb was waiting. As the horses stopped, the woman slowly approached the hack.
Rowles considered the woman with some suspicion, since he couldn’t see her face with the dark veil in place. She approached the driver and spoke an address, not hesitating when the driver questioned her command.
Rowles instantly recognized Joan’s voice and opened the carriage door for her, helping her in. As the carriage door closed, the hack moved onward, apparently realizing the current occupant was acquainted with the new one.
He wasn’t sure where to start because there were so many questions. First, she seemed to address this situation so easily. Had she done this before? Was it a usual occurrence for her to hire a hack and traipse about London all alone? Or with someone else? And if so, whom?
Jealousy over a phantom challenger ate at his soul.
Joan slid the veil from her head and observed him with a hesitant expression. The veil made a rustling sound as she set it beside her, worrying her lip with her teeth as she did so. Taking a deep breath, she spoke. “You have questions.”
“That’s an understatement,” Rowles replied, careful to keep his tone even.