Page 25

It had been a brutal day at work. Edward had called around to Lord Augustus Thurston’s house, hoping to convince the man to let Edward interview his son, only to find the house in a state of mourning.

Lord Thurston refused to meet with Edward, but the butler informed him Clarence Thurston had an unfortunate accident that morning while cleaning his duelling pistols.

The entire house was in a state of shock.

‘I spoke with him just before the accident. Delivered a note for him, and all seemed well. He didn’t even have his guns laid out.

’ The butler’s face was white, his eyes glassy.

Edward knew it was wrong to ask the man questions when he was still reeling from the death of his young master and revealing more than he should, but he pressed forward.

‘Do you remember anything about the note you delivered? Anything strange or unusual?’

The butler shook his head, his face clouded with confusion. ‘No, it was just a note. From one of his friends, I’m sure, as the seal was familiar to me.’

Edward’s heart pounded so hard, he could feel the pulse in his throat. ‘Was it a distinct image? Head of a crow, body of a wolf, tail of a snake?’

‘Yes. How did you know?’ The butler’s gaze sharpened on Edward, his lips hardening into a firm line as if realising he’d said too much.

‘You must leave. The family needs their privacy. I insist.’ He straightened to his full height – close to a foot shorter than Edward – and waved over a much larger footman.

Edward nodded, retreating to the entrance. ‘Of course. Please extend my deepest condolences to the family.’

He returned to his office convinced that the Devil’s Sons had claimed another victim. Whatever threat they held over poor Clarence Thurston’s head was enough for the man to take his own life.

Damnation! If they are willing to kill a baron’s son, how easily might they target the daughter of a dead duke?

Impotent rage boiled like acid. The need to find Ivy and ensure she was safe nearly overwhelmed him. Before he could call back his coach and do just that, Reading approached with a message from Philippa.

‘Lady Winterbourne sent a note. She requests your presence post-haste. I wonder if you will get any work done today with all this rushing hither and thither,’ he mused.

Edward had no time to engage in verbal warfare with his secretary. He hadn’t yet removed his coat, so he simply nodded at Reading, turned, and swept out of 4 Whitehall Place only to have his rage further stoked upon arrival at the duchess’ mansion.

The very woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about sat serenely next to Philippa on her plum settee.

He barely had time to register relief before Philippa shattered his calm by handing him yet another note to inspect.

This one found in Ivy’s pocket with the damning seal of the Devil’s Sons and actually signed by one of the remaining two leaders.

The Wolf. Just thinking such a dangerous man had been so close to Ivy was enough to shatter Edward’s thin shield of control.

Fear washed in and swept away logical thought. ‘I cannot believe you left the orphanage on your own and traipsed halfway across London to eat ices . I certainly hope the treat was worth risking your life.’

Foolish woman! Has she no idea of the dangers facing her?

The Wolf had been close enough to Ivy to sneak a note into her pocket, and on the heels of discovering Clarence Thurston’s ‘accidental’ death, it was enough to make Edward consider locking Ivy away from harm in some tower.

The missive slipped into her pocket could just as easily have been a blade thrust into her belly or a bullet embedded in her chest. The very idea turned Edward’s blood to ice and filled his chest with an unholy rage.

Belatedly, he realised she did not know of this increased threat as he had yet to inform them of his morning’s discoveries.

In staccato sentences full of barely contained frustration, he described his morning visit to Lord Thurston’s and was gratified to see Ivy’s eyes widen and her cheeks pale.

While he despised the thought of frightening her, a little fear could be healthy in promoting caution.

‘Dead?’

Edward nodded.

‘Do you think he intentionally killed himself because of something in the note he received?’ Philippa asked.

Edward nodded once more.

Ivy’s delicate throat constricted as she swallowed. ‘While I certainly held no fond feelings for Clarence Thurston, I wouldn’t wish such a fate on anyone.’

‘Do you see now how foolhardy it was to traipse across London on your own?’ Edward asked, confident her contrition would be forthcoming.

Ivy crossed her arms over her chest, anger bringing rosy colour to her cheeks. ‘I hardly expected my life to be at risk by joining a friend in a public place.’

‘Indeed. A woman should have the freedom to wander at will without risking her life. Blaming Ivy for the threat others pose is an illogical argument. I expect better from you, Edward.’ Philippa glared at Edward. Shame licked the edges of his anger.

Ivy glanced at Philippa; her tremulous smile almost broke him. ‘Thank you.’

Leaning back on the plush pillows, Philippa raised perfectly arched brows. ‘I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you for joining forces with that harridan.’

Ivy exhaled, pressing her lips together.

She swung her gaze from Philippa back to Edward before standing.

‘Clarence Thurston’s death is a tragedy, but one he invited with his own actions.

I won’t let fear of these men stop me in my pursuits, and I won’t apologise for my behaviour today because I’ve done nothing wrong.

I met with a friend. ’ She glared at Philippa for a moment, who responded by thwacking her fan against her palm.

‘To discuss a philanthropic venture that would be incredibly beneficial for the orphans under my care. An endeavour no one in this room is obligated to assist me with, might I add.’

Philippa rolled her eyes at that.

Ivy continued. ‘It is even more imperative we determine what the Devil’s Sons are about and stop them.

I only wish I had paid more attention to who was around me at Gunter’s.

Mayhap I could have identified the Wolf, but we are one step closer.

Then the commissioner can go back to his life, I can settle into being headmistress without threat to my wards or myself, and you can sit in your beautiful parlour and hate whomever you choose in peace. ’

Philippa raised a brow. ‘I do not hate Olivia Smithwick. I just don’t appreciate being manipulated for my social and financial power.’

Ivy huffed out a dry laugh. ‘You do hate Olivia. But you are right. It isn’t fair to coerce you into throwing a charity ball if you have no desire to do so.

I shall tell her you are disinclined to host. Now.

Can we please get back to this note?’ Ivy leaned forward and tapped a finger on the parchment sitting next to her teacup.

Edward wanted to tear out his hair. ‘Do you not understand the danger is only increasing while you are talking of balls? A man took his own life today because of the Devil’s Sons.’

Philippa and Ivy swivelled to him in unison. ‘We are quite aware of the risks facing us, Edward. While you froth and foam over their threats, Ivy and I are working on how to eliminate them. Would you care to join us, or should you return to your office at Scotland Yard?’

These women are impossible!

But he was hardly going to abandon them. ‘Fine. What charity ball? And how does that have anything to do with this note?’

‘It doesn’t.’ Philippa rounded on him.

‘It doesn’t,’ Ivy snapped at the same time.

A flash of something dangerous in her eyes unaccountably heated Edward’s blood.

‘I am throwing a charity ball with Olivia to drum up funds for the orphanage. That’s why I was at Gunter’s.

Not just to eat an ice.’ Her jagged stare could have cut Edward in half.

Well done, Lady Ivy.

It was intoxicating to watch her step into her power, even if her anger was directed at Edward.

‘Now that’s cleared up, perhaps we can return to the matter at hand.

’ Ivy picked up the note and read it aloud.

‘“Danger and death await you if you choose not to heed our warning. Leave Islington now, or you shall share in your family’s fate. The Wolf.” A bit melodramatic.

’ But Edward wasn’t fooled by the brave face Ivy showed them. He heard the hitch in her voice.

‘Perhaps you should stay with me for a while. I can have Stokes make up a bed for you immediately.’ Philippa stood and walked to the bell pull, but Ivy stopped her.

Ivy’s cheeks went pale even as she straightened her shoulders. ‘No. The children need me. I won’t run away like some frightened little mouse no matter what everyone thinks.’

‘You are no mouse, Ivy. Trust me on that. You can fight. And you will fight. But not alone.’ Philippa pulled the decorative rope that would summon her butler.

‘And you mustn’t venture out into the streets without an escort.’ Edward could not allow Ivy to place herself in such vulnerable situations.

Ivy let the note fall into her lap as she looked at him. ‘I don’t believe you have any say over what I must and mustn’t do, Commissioner Worthington. You are neither my father, my brother, nor my husband. My choices are my own.’ Her finger tap-tap-tapped against the note.

‘Damn it, Ivy. Don’t you see I’m trying to protect you?

’ Edward stood, pacing like an agitated jungle cat.

He’d never had to deal with such a restless feeling in his chest. Fear.

Frustration. An incessant need to growl and claw at anything or anyone who might get close to Ivy.

He felt like some crazed animal, and he hated it. ‘You refuse to listen to reason.’