A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,68

landing his fist on Riley’s nose. The large man staggered back, allowing Thomas to strike the smaller man as well.

Riley quickly regained his footing and punched Thomas again, this time along the jaw and hard enough that his head struck the brick wall behind him. Dazed, with a strange ringing filling his head, he kept one hand on the wall to keep his balance as he glared at his two opponents. Fear crept up his spine as he realized this wasn’t going to end well.

To his surprise and relief, the two men backed away. “Stay away,” Riley demanded. Then they turned and disappeared into the night.

Thomas braced against the building and slid to the ground, his legs weak with relief. He counted himself lucky that the pair hadn’t done worse damage. His head pounded like the devil, but he soon hauled himself to his feet, hoping to find a hackney to take him home before they decided to return.

Chapter Sixteen

Annabelle paced the waiting area of Artemis Press the following morning, well aware of Mr. Bing’s nervousness at her presence, though he did his best to get on with his work.

“What time does Mr. Raybourne normally arrive?” she asked, her concern growing by the minute.

Mr. Bing pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat. “He’s usually here by now.”

A feeling of foreboding had arrived with the morning, and she hadn’t been able to shake it. Thomas’s efforts to follow Sir Alexander held risk. She’d watched the ballroom entrance closely the previous evening and noted that Thomas had departed soon after Sir Alexander. Where they went or what had occurred remained a mystery. She had far too many of those in her life of late.

For all she knew, Thomas might’ve chosen to drink and gamble, something she knew he did—or used to do—on a regular basis. Just because they’d become betrothed didn’t mean she should expect him to change his behavior. As Lady Helen had reminded her, Thomas hadn’t earned his reputation without cause. The thought hurt and had her turning to pace in the opposite direction.

She knew he wouldn’t be pleased that she’d come to the office this morning. His concern over her reputation was both heartwarming and maddening at the same time. But she’d taken the precaution of having her driver take a circuitous route, then watched closely to make certain no one appeared to observe her before alighting from the carriage.

Though part of her insisted such precautions were ridiculous, she remembered too well McConnelly’s description of the murder victims. Unfortunately, she could imagine it in vivid detail, because she’d already done so in the pages of her book.

What should she do if Thomas didn’t arrive soon? Have Mr. Bing send him a message? She didn’t dare call upon him herself. Such things simply weren’t done. Her mother would be appalled if she found out, and somehow, her mother always seemed to find out. If the message didn’t garner results, she’d call upon Caroline and Aberland and request help.

She paused before Mr. Bing’s desk. “Could you please—”

The click of the door opening caused her to break off the request, and she turned to face the entrance. Relief filled her as Thomas walked in only to pause at the sight of her.

“Miss Gold.” His eyes narrowed as if he was concerned about her presence. “Mr. Bing.”

“Good morning.” Annabelle’s hand tightened in a fist as she realized he was hurt. His bruised jaw was made all the more noticeable by the paleness of his skin. Lines bracketed his mouth and his face held a pinched look, suggesting he was in pain. She clamped her lips tight, not wanting to say anything in front of Bing. She had no idea whether Thomas trusted him or how much the man knew.

“Mr. Raybourne?” Bing rose slowly, frowning as his gaze lingered on Thomas’s jaw, the question in his expression and tone obvious.

Thomas ignored him and gestured for Annabelle to precede him into his office, closed the door, then set his top hat and gloves on the corner of his desk with stiff movements.

“What happened?” Annabelle asked as she drew near, the band around her chest squeezing as she studied his face, wondering what other injuries he might have.

He sighed, briefly touching the back of his head before lowering his hand to press against his side. “I received a warning.”

She gasped then quickly removed her gloves and set them beside his before reaching out to gently touch his jaw. “From whom?”

“I’m not sure. As I left the