Page 32

Ivy slept terribly. Her mind was too busy swirling around all the ideas Edward inspired.

She entered the kitchen intent on making a strong cup of tea and organising her agenda for the day.

There was much to be done for the upcoming ball.

She had an idea she wanted to discuss with Olivia that would make the preparations even more fraught but might also ensure their donations increased.

Edward was already sitting at the table, two pieces of parchment sitting in front of him. He sipped his disgustingly bitter coffee from a teacup.

Ivy felt her face heat. She wasn’t ready to re-enter their discussion from the night before, so she distracted him with another topic of conversation. ‘I have an idea about the charity ball,’ she spoke in a rush, hoping to divert any questions he might have about his proposed experiment.

Of kissing. And touching. And exploring each other.

Dear Lord!

Focus. Do not start drooling all over the kitchen counter.

Edward looked up from the notes, his dark brow raising in an unspoken question.

The summer sun streaked through the window, turning his eyes an intriguing shade of indigo.

There were streaks of silver at his temple, and his black hair shone like polished leather.

Ivy desperately wished to test its texture against her fingers.

Grabbing the kettle and shaking it, she realised he must have refilled it for her. She lit the hob and looked over her shoulder at him. ‘I think we should bring some of the children.’

Edward put down his coffee. ‘To the ball?’

‘Yes. Henry and Sarah would be the best candidates. It’s easy to say no to an idea, but how could you possibly say no to Sarah’s sweet face?

Or Henry with his endearing smile? We need to show the beau monde these children are future contributing members of our society.

Henry could make a fine footman or even officer for Scotland Yard.

Sarah might be taking care of a peer’s children one day.

These are not just orphans. They are people the beau monde depend upon to keep their precious lives running smoothly. ’

Edward leaned back in his chair and crossed his thick arms over an equally impressive muscular chest. She really should insist he wear a waistcoat and jacket at all times. The man was far too attractive.

‘Play on their sympathies, then show the lords and ladies how it benefits them to give generously?’

Ivy took the wailing kettle off the hob. ‘Exactly. You gave me the idea last night.’ She turned to the teapot and half-filled it with boiling water to warm the porcelain before dumping it out, adding tea leaves, and refilling the pot.

‘Did I?’ She could hear the amusement in his voice and warmth bloomed in her chest.

Turning, she leaned her back against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his pose.

‘You did. When you spoke of how honourable titles rarely equate to honourable men. You are right. Most of the peers I know are motivated by their own selfish needs, so we show them how donating money to the orphanage benefits them, not the children.’

Edward’s smile was infectious. ‘You are a sneaky one, Lady Ivy.’

She grinned back. ‘Thank you.’

Just as quickly as his smile appeared, it dissipated. He waved her over to the table next to him. ‘I have had my own epiphany. I’d love your opinion on it. Look at these two notes.’

Ivy walked over to the table, her shoulder bumping against his as she bent to look at the two papers. ‘That’s my list from last night.’

Edward nodded.

She narrowed her gaze. ‘And the note from Thurston’s pocket.’ Realisation dawned, and with it a growing sense of horror. ‘Good God. It can’t be.’

‘I fear it is.’ Edward’s tone was grim.

She pointed to the first column. ‘FH.’ Then the next.

‘LOA. AO. RS. ASO. Edward, those are the initials of orphanages throughout London. The Foundling Hospital in Bethnal Green. London Orphan Asylum, Alexandra Orphanage. Ragged Schools. And ours.’ Ivy’s hand was shaking, and Edward carefully took the note from her.

‘They are making lists.’ Bile rose in her throat. ‘Of children.’

‘I believe the first set of numbers are genders, the second are ages.’

‘Oh God. One for boys, two for girls.’ Tears threatened, but they would do no good against these bastards.

The children didn’t need a weeping woman full of horror.

They needed a warrior ready with every weapon in her arsenal.

‘We must do something, Edward. We must find the leaders of this group and destroy them. I have been a coward, letting Philippa, Hannah, Millie and Penny fight against these monsters while I stayed hidden in the shadows.’

Edward pushed his chair back and stood. ‘You are no coward, Ivy. I saw you face off against one of these fiends myself. At the Widow’s Ball, you could have stayed behind me while Thurston threatened me with a pistol, but you didn’t.

’ He grabbed both of her shoulders and leaned down to look in her eyes.

‘You stepped out of the shadows and defended me. Just as you defended these children the night he snuck through the bloody window.’

She shook free of his grip. ‘But it’s not enough.’

‘It’s not your responsibility to defeat the Devil’s Sons, Ivy.’

‘You’re wrong. It is my responsibility. It is yours. It is all of ours. If we do not fight against these bastards, who will?’

He hissed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair.

Ivy felt the thrill of victory. She was right. He knew it. ‘Exactly. We need to inform the others. Immediately.’

‘All right.’ Edward paced in a tight path between the kitchen table and the stove, then back again. ‘I must go to Scotland Yard for several appointments or Reading will hunt me down and kill me, but I should be free by this afternoon. Can you leave the orphanage and meet at Philippa’s?’

‘I’m planning on tea at two with Olivia to discuss the ball and then I need to supervise the children for their chores. Could we invite everyone over this evening after the children are abed?’

‘That all depends on whether you have sufficient supplies. Do you stock any port or brandy in this kitchen?’ Edward made a show of opening cupboards and drawers.

Despite the seriousness of their situation, Ivy giggled. ‘No. I don’t think our budget extends to spirits.’

‘Well, then. I shall have Reading send a runner to bring supplies from my townhouse. Lord knows we don’t want to put the Prime Minister’s men into the same war room as the Queen’s Deadly Damsels without some liquid fortification.’

‘So, it’s settled? We’ll invite Hannah and Killian, Millie and Drake, Penny and Liam and Philippa, of course. You should probably bring some whiskey as well.’ How was this suddenly feeling like a party?

Because all my favourite people will be there. Including Edward. Especially Edward.

Oh no!

In a rather terrifying moment of clarity, Ivy realised her feelings for Edward had vastly surpassed polite acquaintances, eclipsed mere friendship, moved beyond someone with whom she might explore newly found physical desires, and delved into territory she never believed she would ever traverse.

She couldn’t even think the word, but it hovered on the edges of her mind like a mist.

Focus on the task at hand. Namely, finding these bastard Devil’s Sons. Not twittering like a ninny over the Commissioner of Scotland Yard.

Edward drained his coffee cup, then took it back to the Belfast sink in the scullery where she heard him washing it out.

Oh my. He even cleans up after himself.

She allowed herself a moment to lean against the counter as her heart beat a mad tattoo.

I must pull myself together. There’s no time for mooning about.

As he walked back into the kitchen, she straightened and poured tea into her cup.

‘I shall take my leave. But I’ll see you tonight, fortified with spirits and Reading. I would never say this in front of him, but he has quite the mind for investigations, and we need all the help we can get unless you object?’

Ivy shook her head. ‘No. Please invite him. Should I ask Olivia to join us?’

Edward frowned, a line forming between his brows. A rogue desire to press her thumb there and smooth it away had her fingers twitching. ‘Best not. Philippa is not a fan of Lady Smithwick’s. For now, it’s probably wise to keep the two of them apart.’

‘I don’t know why she’s taken such a dislike to her.’

Something dark flashed in Edward’s gaze. ‘I might have an idea.’ Before Ivy could ask him anything more, he glanced at the door. ‘I should be going. I’ll see you this evening.’

Her feet were moving before she could merit her actions. She gripped his forearm and pulled him close, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

What the bloody hell am I about?

Everything seemed to sharpen as she inhaled the scent of soap, coffee, and Jamaican spice.

When she attempted to step back, he caught her around the waist, pulling her close.

His hand wrapped around her neck, and she felt the heat of his lips hovering a breath away from hers.

She tilted her chin, melting the distance as she pressed her mouth to Edward’s.

It began as a brushing of firm flesh against her own, but quickly, his fingers were tightening on her neck, his tongue delving deep.

She opened to him, revelling in the silken sensation of his tongue tangling with hers as he tasted her.

Confidence streaked through her. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, testing his flesh with her teeth.

It was like untethering a wild animal. His hand moved from her neck to her hip, gripping hard enough for her to feel the bite, though he didn’t pull her against him. Only this time, she wished he would.