Page 10 of Tempting a Lonely Lord (The Rakes of Mayhem #6)

Within the encoded message lay the answers—a plan to thwart, a danger to prevent—and the clock was ticking.

Unfortunately, the missive’s arrival had been ill-timed, pulling William away from Bella.

He had gone to the stables not just to see her—though he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed her company—but also to uncover more about her uncle.

Something about the man’s demise gnawed at him, a quiet but persistent unease.

When he’d met Bella’s uncle three days prior, the man had struck him as deeply morose, as though weighed down by some inner turmoil.

Yet his mood had shifted abruptly, his melancholy giving way to an unsettling anger when he found Bella and the other women laughing and enjoying themselves.

That reaction had been both curious and disturbing.

What could inspire such bitterness, especially directed at his niece?

William couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the man’s hostility than mere disapproval of frivolity. And while his instincts urged him to tread carefully, his growing fondness for Bella—and his sense of duty to protect her—made it impossible to ignore.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by Harlow stepping into the study. “My lord,” he said, carrying a tray. “Anticipating the importance of the missive, I asked the cook to prepare a tray of sandwiches, cheese, and fruit for you.”

“Mrs. Bradberry did a wonderful job,” William said with a grateful smile.

“As usual, you have anticipated my needs perfectly, Harlow.” He often became absorbed in the intricate patterns of ciphers, losing all sense of time—often even forgetting to eat—as he delved deeper into his work.

“Thank you,” he said. “By the way, Michael should be returning in a few hours. Lady Bella will be accompanying him.” A hint of anticipation laced his words.

He hoped he might see her again if he was finished with his work.

“I will be attuned to their arrival,” Harlow said. “Let me know if there’s anything else you require, my lord,” he added with a respectful nod, exiting the room.

Hours passed, marked only by the dimming light outside. At last, William had deciphered the note before him. As the final letters fell into place, an icy shiver coursed through him.

Pied Piper is near. Remain vigilant. The losses mount, and more will follow. Beware the path ahead— Danger waits in the shadows.

He takes what cannot be replaced. The young. The innocent. They vanish into the night, their cries swallowed by the tide. Once taken, they are never seen again.

The Piper plays his tune, and those who follow do not return. The path to his warren is well hidden, his network vast. Whispers of his trade spread through the docks, but fear silences those who know too much.

Watch. Wait. Be wary of those in power around you. He moves among them, masked by wealth and influence. His deception is his greatest weapon.

He is closer than you think…

William rubbed his bleary eyes and stretched. It had been an intensive decoding. His thoughts turned to his brother, and he reached for the bellpull. A few moments later, Harlow stepped inside, ready to assist.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Harlow, has my brother returned?” William asked.

“Yes, sir. Lady Bella and Lady Harrington dropped him off a few hours ago,” the butler said. “I believe his new governess, Mrs. Randal, tucked him into bed.”

Relief washed over William, but an underlying tension remained. He reread the missive he’d just finished decoding, and a chill ran down his spine. The Pied Piper is near .

It was no longer just an ominous warning—it was a confirmation. The Piper was here, in Dover, operating in the very area William called home. Where Michael lived. Where other innocent children lived, unaware of the shadow lurking among them.

His grip on the paper tightened.

He had left active duty behind. He had resigned himself to a quieter life, tending to his responsibilities as a viscount and raising his younger brother. But duty, it seemed, was not done with him.

He could not turn away—not now.

The Pied Piper preyed upon the vulnerable, stealing children in the dead of night, his web stretching beyond the docks and alleyways, reaching into the highest echelons of society.

And he was close.

William exhaled slowly, his pulse steadying. He would remain vigilant. He would not allow another child to be taken—not while he still had the power to stop it.

Sitting back in his leather chair, he closed his eyes and reflected on what he knew about the area. The face that repeatedly came to his mind was that of Bella’s uncle. Despite his having deciphered the note, he found himself fixated on Lord Stephen Bridgewater.

Something felt off about the man, and William was determined to investigate.

Bridgewater’s behavior troubled him, though he couldn’t be sure if his concern stemmed from his preoccupation with Lady Bella.

But was it just a preoccupation? He suspected the man was harboring a secret, and William wanted to know what it was.

Reaching into his desk drawer, he retrieved a key from a recessed area in the bottom. He took it upstairs to his room, opened a box, and withdrew a costume he hadn’t donned in over a year. He would disguise himself and follow the earl.

Something is amiss with this man, and I will find out what it is.

~*~