A good question. The problematic collusion between Mulholland and Deele was still unanswered. Was the thieftaker nearby? Surely he could not know we were here in Wales. And if we did end up returning to Davenport Hall, Julia and I would be coming face-to-face with Duffy again. A confrontation that would be even more complicated with Evan and Kent in tow. Particularly since I suspected Julia was no longer in the mood to be conciliatory toward our brother.

But that was all too far in the future.

I shook my head. “I do not know.”

•   •   •

I felt a touch upon my shoulder and opened my eyes, somewhat disoriented by the last remnants of sleep. I still sat at the dining table, Evan in the chair beside mine, his arm around me and my head nestled quite comfortably in the hollow of his shoulder. I had no recollection of how that had happened.

“I just heard the lookout return,” he said. “Deele must be coming.”

The last I remembered was discussing Hester’s condition—reasonable, considering what she had been through—and eating the very welcome selection of cold meats, bread, and cheese that Lady Eleanor had supplied for an impromptu supper. Apparently, I could not withstand a full stomach, a warm hearth, and one, admittedly large, glass of claret. Nor, it seemed, Evan’s shoulder. Using him as a pillow was becoming quite a habit and one in which I found a great deal of comfort. I never felt safer than when I was in his arms. I turned more into his shoulder, feeling the broad muscle beneath my cheek and breathing in his scent: a mix of soap and saddle leather and earthy male skin.

The door opened to admit Mr. Brummell. “Deele is coming up the hill,” he announced. Upon seeing me still leaning against Evan, he raised his quizzing glass upon its riband to view the tableau. I eyed him back, daring him to make one of his bon mots, but he merely smiled. An oddly satisfied smile. “Lady Eleanor wishes us to assemble in the library,” he added.

I chose to take the smile as a sign of his approval and glanced at the mantel clock. Just past midnight: I had slept for over an hour and a half and felt a great deal better for it. A tight squeeze of my eyelids cleared the last of my slumber.

I extracted myself from the dining chair and Evan’s arm. “I sent Weatherly to change the horses at the inn,” I said. “Fresh enough to get to Liverpool if you should need to flee.”

Evan nodded and stood, massaging his shoulder. The dear man must have remained in the same position for the entire hour and a half. “Thank you. I hope it will not come to that.”