Chapter Eleven
Eliza shifted, attempting to adjust to the feel of men’s trousers. They were…odd. Isabella had worn pants like this every day for a month and Eliza had thought nothing of it. But now, with them on, she was aware that every curve from the waist down was on complete display. And Dylan was aware of them too. His eyes had been on her rear since he’d picked her up this morning.
Dylan had kept his word and they sat outside the warehouse, carefully tucked in a doorway as they waited for someone to leave or arrive.
But he’d kept his hands to himself.
He didn’t have a choice really because Bash had insisted on coming too. And the duke had grumbled about the ridiculousness of the decision ever since they’d left. Eliza didn’t care. Let Bash lament her being here. Dylan had understood. And that mattered.
But Bash kept at it and finally tired of hearing him, Eliza had sighed. “You didn’t grouch this much when I snuck on the back of the carriage and attended the meeting with Dishonor.”
He gave her a level stare in return. He sat across from her, his knees pulled up to his chin, while Dylan was next to her in the same position. The narrow doorway wasn’t meant for three people, especially not ones as large as the two men.
Bash growled in the back of his throat. “We knew who we were meeting then. And we were in Hyde Park. This is different.” He leaned closer. “We could stumble across anyone. Friend or foe.”
Eliza grimaced. He had a point. But so did she. “I’m able to do this, Bash. And what’s more, I never intend to be a normal lady, so don’t bother trying to shove me into that role. The moment my parents were both gone, and I had to take care of my sisters, any hope of me being that woman disappeared.”
Bash clamped his mouth shut, not answering as he stared at her. But something softened too. “It’s not that I don’t understand how strong you had to be to keep your sisters fed for so many months, it’s just that…”
“I like me better like this, Bash.” Then she reached out and patted her brother-in-law’s hand. “I’m learning that I don’t have to do it all alone.” She glanced over at Dylan. “But I don’t want to go back to waiting in the drawing room for the man I care about to return. I’ll never do that again.”
Bash’s eyes lit with understanding and Eliza was so grateful.
Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed off the stone, and whatever Bash might have replied was lost. All three of them looked out at the large double doors of the only warehouse on Fennington Street. They were carefully padlocked closed.
The steps grew louder until finally two men came into view. But to Eliza’s relief, it was Dishonor himself who stood in front of the massive doors. The other man to his right. Eliza narrowed her gaze. The other gentleman looked oddly familiar.
As if Bash had the same thought at the same moment, he said, “I’ve seen him before. The one with Dishonor.”
Dishonor’s companion was tall, broad, his vest made out of a Scottish tartan. He whispered low to Dishonor, but Eliza couldn’t make out the words.
“What should we do?” Dylan asked. “Once they’re inside, we’ve lost our chance.”
“Let’s do this, then.” Bash stood. “You two stay here.”
Eliza made to protest but Dylan placed his hand on her arm.
The instant Bash stepped out of the shadows, both Dishonor and the other man turned.
Bash held up both his hands. “I’ve come with a warning.”
The Scot turned and left, without a word, Eliza craning her neck to see where he went.
“Where is your friend going?” Bash asked.
Dishonor shrugged. “He’s not ready to meet you.”
“Why not?” Bash stopped, his hand dropping to his hip.
Dishonor shook his head, something dark and unreadable flashing in his eyes. “I didn’t want to reveal myself either. Secrecy is key to safety.”
“That’s what I came to talk with you about.” Bash started moving again. “Last night, Eliza overheard Mr. Taber and another man talking.”
Dishonor’s eyes widened and Eliza shifted. She wanted to be out there too.
“Come inside,” Dishonor said, inserting a key into the lock. Eliza heard it click. “We’ll talk more there.”
Eliza tugged on Dylan’s shirt. “Should we?”
“No,” he answered, lacing his fingers through hers. “As Isabella’s husband, Bash is a partner. He has every right to be here.”
“I have every right to be here,” she fired back.
But Dylan only smiled. “We’ll watch out from here.”
She knew what that meant. They’d allow her to come but they were going to keep her hidden in the shadows. Out of any danger.
She sighed. Men.
She supposed she should be more worried. After last night, she knew caution was important. But she’d also moved them far closer to solving their mystery. “I’ve been relegated to lookout.”
“As have I,” he answered with a smile. “It’s an important job.”
Her brow lifted. “Two lookouts?”
He gave her a wink. “Well, I’m looking out for you. Which in those trousers, is a damn fine job. I’m rather enjoying it.”
That made her smile too. “Want to hear something naughty?”
His gaze darkened as he leaned closer. “From you? Always.”
That made her insides tingle in the nicest way. “Not that kind of naughty. Abigail actually suggested that I stuff a stocking down the front of the…”
But his gaze had grown even darker and he made a low guttural groan that seemed to echo through her body. “Eliza, you are torturing me.”
She wanted to ask him how so, but he leaned down until his lips were only a breath away from hers. “And we’ve yet to finish our conversation last night. About being good for one another.”
She swallowed, letting out a little sigh as she stared at his mouth. “We do need to finish that. Yes.”
He slid his hands down her neck, the light touch of his fingertips causing her to gasp for breath.
She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to tell him she’d made a mistake rejecting his offer but once again, footsteps echoed down Fennington Street.
Dylan wanted this woman with every fiber of his being.
His fingers itched to slide down the trousers and see if there were stockings stuffed in the front. Then, he’d like to explore further…deeper…
He stopped his imaginings as he heard the footsteps. Silently, he pressed Eliza further into the shadows of the doorway as three men came into view.
Eliza gasped and he knew why. One of them was Mr. Taber.
“You see the man next to Mr. Taber? He was with him at the ball last night.”
Several choice curse words rose to Dylan’s lips. Eliza shouldn’t be here.
“Lock’s missing.” The third man pointed. “Means they’re inside. Now is our chance.”
Eliza and Dylan watched in silence as the three men slipped into the shadows.
He scrubbed his face. Bash would come out of those doors straight into a trap. But then again, the moment he left this doorway, they’d know he was there, and Eliza would be vulnerable.
His fist clenched against his thigh. This was the exact reason he didn’t want to bring her.
She shifted and a small firearm appeared from inside her jacket. “Do we attack now or wait?”
He looked back at her, his brows lifting, despite the gravity of the situation. She never ceased to amaze him. “I’d prefer not to do a surprise outnumbered attack with you as my second,” he whispered. “Then again, they could hurt either Dishonor or Bash before we’ve acted.”
She grimaced. “I see the problem.”
They sat silently for several seconds both attempting to come up with a solution when a cat crossed in front of the doorway. Noticing Dylan, the kitty veered inward, rubbing her side along his leg.
Eliza reached out and snatched the cat into her arms, rubbing along the cat’s back.
Dylan
was amazed the animal didn’t protest but she curled into Eliza’s arms.
“You’re petting a cat now? Of all times?” he gritted out a whisper between his teeth. Women.
“Shhhh,” Eliza said, giving him a small wink. “This kitty is going to help us.”
“How?” he whispered back.
“Watch,” she said as the door lock on the inside began to rattle. Bash and Dishonor were going to come out any second.
“I can’t get away from women and cats,” he muttered, but he had to be honest, his fingertips tingled at the idea she had a plan.
He should have known…
Eliza unfolded herself, standing with the cat in her arms. The alley door to the warehouse was some six feet away and he knew the three men stood in the deepening shadows just beyond.
“Be sure of foot, kitty, and run like the wind as soon as you land. I’ll come back for you once this business is done.” Then she looked at him. “Be ready to rush them.”
His eyebrows rose. Sure of foot? What was she going to do?
He tensed, his muscles getting ready to spring when the door swung open and Dishonor stepped out. At the exact moment that the first man broke from the shadows, lunging at Dishonor. In that second, Eliza tossed the cat directly at Dishonor’s chest. The cat hissed and clawed as it sailed through the air even as Dylan lunged from the shadow of the door. Dishonor caught the animal automatically, but the other man paused for that critical moment, and Dylan nearly roared with satisfaction as he tackled the man to the ground.
Mr. Taber and the other man jumped into the fray, but Dylan couldn’t attend either of them as the man he’d tackled spun and rolled, getting Dylan underneath him and planting a good punch right into his gut. Distantly he hoped Dishonor and Bash had been ready and Eliza stayed hidden.
Dylan let out a groan as another punch hit his midsection but then, getting his hand free, he clipped the man with an uppercut to the jaw. The assailant fell like a sack right on top of him making the air rush out of his lungs before he pushed the other man off.
Bash had Mr. Taber pressed up against the wall while Dishonor, bleeding from several scratches, had knocked the third man to the ground.
“Tie them up,” Dishonor said as he wiped some blood from his cheek. “It’s the Bow Street Runners for them.”
“No,” Mr. Taber gasped from his spot on the wall. “You might as well kill me right now.”
“That could be arranged,” Dylan said, standing. Rage coursed through him as he looked at the man who’d attacked Eliza the night before. He’d like to mangle the man’s face, but he remembered that Eliza would see it all and he forced himself to breathe. Dishonor stepped inside and then came out again with balls of twine. Tossing Dylan one, they began to tie the two unconscious men and then stepped toward Bash and Mr. Taber.
The man began to fight harder and Bash gave him a quick punch to the stomach. “If you’re going to die anyway, you might as well tell us who you work for.”
Mr. Taber sneered. “I’d never betray him.”
“Is it he who is going to kill you?”
Mr. Taber laughed as Bash and Dishonor tied his hands. Dylan watched Taber, looking for any subtle cues. “It is. But if I talk now it will be a slow death instead of a quick one. And if you’re smart, you’ll allow him to keep pilfering from your business. He won’t run it dry and you’ll be safe. But get in his way and you’ll end up exactly like your partner.”
Eliza gasped from the shadows and then stepped out. Dylan didn’t hesitate. He pulled her into his embrace, turning her away from Mr. Taber.
“Well look who it is.” Mr. Taber leered. “My bride-to-be.”
“My bride-to-be,” Dylan snapped back.
Eliza tilted her head up and gave him a smile. It was gentle and warm and full of…whatever it was, it stole his breath.
“You can’t have her. My associate has already decided that as the oldest, she should marry within our operation. Even her uncle has agreed. You might have moved the sister in with you, but he is still their next of kin.”
Bash pushed the man into the wall. “He is not. When he left them in that house all alone, he forfeited his rights. I’ve already had a judge sign them over to me. You’ll never touch any of the sisters.”
Dylan squeezed Eliza tighter. Who was Mr. Taber’s boss and how dangerous was this man that he thought he had rights over a duke? How would Dylan protect Eliza from this mysterious man?
Chapter Twelve
Darkness had fallen by the time they could make the trip back to Bash’s home. Dishonor rode with them and the cat slept soundly in Eliza’s lap.
The soft purring helped calm her nerves and she stroked the animal, grateful it was unharmed.
The little ball of fur had been completely fine, but Dishonor was a slightly different story. “That thing scratched the hell out of me.” He touched one of the cuts crisscrossing his face.
“That thing saved your life, I’d wager,” Dylan replied.
“True,” Dishonor said as he touched his cheek again. “What will you do with the animal now?”
“Keep it,” she answered, giving it another pet. “It’s clearly an alley cat. It’ll enjoy Bash’s barn and it’ll be far better fed there.” Then she looked at Dylan, her face heating. “And my marquess over there has an affection for women with cats.”
Dishonor scrunched his brow… “Is that some sort of sexual—”
Dylan cleared his throat. “The last woman I courted had a white, fluffy cat named Tulip. Dreadful creature.” But he leaned over toward Dishonor. “We’re done talking about cats.”
Dishonor touched his cuts again. “Fine. Let’s talk instead about the fact that the thieves have discovered me, my secret storage facility, and possibly my identity. Though, Mr. Taber clearly didn’t know it, and I only pray that they’ve not discovered who I am when I’m not at Carrington Shipping. I’ve no choice but to shut the two compromised lines down and let the drivers go, though I have no idea if they’re actually involved.”
Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You heard Taber. Shutting down the lines could create a large disturbance.”
Eliza drew in a deep breath. Her first concern was Dishonor, of course. But then she realized this could impact her too.
She’d been there today. Seen by Mr. Taber at the secret warehouse. She slid her fingers from the cat and slipped them into Dylan’s grasp.
He laced his hand into hers.
But Dishonor grunted. “You think I should allow these men to continue stealing from me?”
Bash scratched his chin, but Dylan cocked his head as he tried to put several pieces together. “You said you believe he’s also stealing from the Crown. Why do you think that?”
“Two weeks ago, as I did a final check on a wagon load, I found two crates in the back with the Crown’s seal. When I asked the driver, he’d no idea how they had gotten there. But they were headed to Dover.”
“Did you look inside the crates?”
“Yes.” Dishonor ran a hand through his hair. “Exotic spices, silk, goods from the Orient mostly.”
Bash’s gaze lit with inspiration. “If you can prove that your books are off, do you think the Crown could as well? Prinny’s got significantly more resources than we do to run an investigation.”
“And more power to put a stop to whoever is at the top of this league of criminals,” Dylan added.
Dishonor shook his head. “I’ve no relationship with the Crown.” His voice tightened, growing harder and Eliza squinted her eyes, trying to assess his features in the growing darkness.
But Bash waved his hand. “Leave that to me. He’s my second cousin on my father’s side.”
“All right. If you need to contact me, leave a note with the solicitor.” And then Dishonor tapped the wall behind him as the carriage drew to a stop.
Bash raised his brow. “We can continue this conversation in my office.”
Dishonor gave his head a shake. “Forgive me, Your Grace. B
ut I think it best we spend as little time together as possible.”
“But we now own a business together.”
“True. But I don’t have a wife or young ladies in my charge. We’ll keep most of the attention on me for now. We don’t want…” and then he stopped, giving Eliza a long look.
She gave a single nod. He was trying to protect her and her sisters still. “Thank you, Dishonor.”
The carriage had stopped, and he snapped open the door, and then jumped out, disappearing into the night.
“He’s gone again,” Eliza said as Bash closed the door.
“Did you learn anything in the warehouse? And who was the Scot he was with?” Dylan asked as soon as the carriage started moving again.
“The warehouse is where he keeps several shipments of goods that only he and a few other trusted men in his business ever see or touch. And the other man wished to remain anonymous for now, but I have my suspicions.”
Eliza’s hand tightened in Dylan’s. “Should we be concerned?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m going to check in with my friend, the Earl of Goldthwaite. The first time I met Dishonor, I asked Goldthwaite to investigate Dishonor’s real identity. It’s time I circle back to see if he’s learned anything,” Bash said as he shook his head. Then he gave them both a long stare in the dark. “But we won’t have any more information there until I’ve talked with Goldthwaite, which means it’s time to discuss another pressing topic.”
“What’s that?” Eliza asked, nibbling on her lip.
Bash dropped his chin. “Your future marriage.”
Oh. That.
Dylan gave Bash a hard glare.
Though he appreciated his friend’s position, this was between himself and Eliza. “Once we’ve returned to your home, may I request an audience with Miss Carrington?”
Bash let out a breath, or perhaps a short laugh. “Fine, but it will be chaperoned. Unlike the last one.”
Eliza straightened. “Don’t be absurd. I just—”
Bash thumped his hand on the seat. “If you would like a choice in this engagement, you will allow the meeting to be chaperoned. Honestly, Eliza, I have attempted to give you a great deal of leeway in this matter, but you’d push a man past reason.”
Marquess of Menace Page 8
