Page 67 of To Catch A Rogue

"What happened to you and Herbert?" he asked.

There was blood on Blade's shirt, and one of the buttons on his waistcoat was missing.

"We were set upon by a group of ruffians," Herbert replied. He looked immaculate. Glossy shoes, his hair still slicked into place, and the false beard long gone.

"Then 'Erbert took out 'is pistol and shot three o' 'em right through the eye." Blade gave Charlie a long, slow look. "Nobody told me 'e was a marksman."

"Crack shot, sir," Herbert replied. "I served in Her Majesty's army in Lower Burma for several years before Malloryn recruited me."

You doubted me. "I told you he'd be an asset."

"Master Blade was no slouch either, though his technique is a touch more... violent."

"Master Blade," Charlie mouthed.

Blade slapped him over the back of the head. "I assume we ain't got nothin'. 'Erbert and I 'ad to light outta there like our asses were on fire."

"No sign of Malloryn," he agreed with a sigh.

"We'll find 'im. Let's get goin'. Some bastard spilled 'is entrails all over me boots."

"How terribly impolite."

"Impolite or not, I'm takin' the baths first."

Chapter 13

Charlie found Blade sitting on the rooftop of the diplomat's house, in the shadows of one of the enormous chimneys.

Lark had taken to bed, and he'd sent a message along to Gemma stating "they'd had no luck at cards last night", which left him to his own devices for the day.

"You do realize they have a sitting room," he called, balancing along the ridge of the roof. "There's even a library."

"Aye, but they ain't got these views." Blade waved his hand at the panorama in front of them.

Behind him, the river churned dull and gray with dozens of seagulls bobbing in the current, but every house in the street was painted a bright color, and everywhere Charlie looked gold decorated small cupolas and domes.

And in the distance, the ruins of Grigoriev Palace squatted like a widowed matron, all dour broken windows and rain-bleached walls giving the palace an air of mourning.

Both of them stared at it.

"Thinking about last night's bust?" Charlie sat beside his brother-in-law. Blade snapped something shut in his hand, and he caught a glimpse of a silver locket, and looked away swiftly. "Oh. You were thinking about Honor and Emmaline."

"Missin' 'em a little."

Baby Emma was the apple of her father's eye, and Charlie swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought of her. His niece looked just like her mother, but she had Blade's wicked sense of humor, and she'd stolen Charlie's heart the moment she first looked into his eyes.

"Hopefully we're home in a couple of weeks," he said. "I wish you hadn't come. Emma will never forgive me for stealing you away. I won't be her favorite uncle anymore."

"Barrons might dispute that fact."

"Aye, well we all know the truth. I'm her favorite."

"'Ow's Lark?"

Charlie tilted his face to the clouds, shutting his eyes. "She was upset this morning."

"I could see that. Why?"