Seducing a Stranger (Victorian Rebels #7) - Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,85

with moisture flew to his. “William forged this note. I swear it. If she is in one of our carriages then…he has her.”

“Woodhaven,” Morley said, feeling his muscles harden at the uttered name. He never liked the man’s reaction to Prudence, but he’d dismissed it as the lunacy of grief. A brief investigation of him had him dismissing the man as a coddled milksop dining out on his family’s ancient name. If he’d returned from Italy so soon, could he intend to take revenge on the woman he blamed for his best mate’s death?

“He was so angry, about so many things,” Honoria revealed in a horrified whisper. “But I didn’t think he’d—” Unable to finish the thought, she rushed forward. “Please. Come with me. I might know where they are.”

A cold blade of dread slid between his ribs, threatening his own poise. “Would he hurt her because of Sutherland?”

She caught her lips between her teeth as if biting them could hold back tears. “If I had to guess, it has something to do with me.”

“What do you have to do with it?”

“My husband is an obsessive man, Chief Inspector,” she said, revealing the shadows that haunted the façade of serenity as she stepped past him to reach for her shawl in the front entry. “He is vindictive and manipulative. The only thing that controls him, is his need to control me. His need to make me love him. Make me…God. You can’t know what life with him is like.”

“If he has touched a hair on Prudence’s head, you won’t have to worry about living with him anymore,” Morley said darkly. “Where have they gone?”

“William told me he and some partners of one of his investment schemes had business at the Chariton’s Dock in Southwark.”

Morley didn’t know the place. He thought he knew every inch of this city, but that dock didn’t even ring a bell.

“There’s an old flour storage warehouse there. My father bought it years ago, but he’s done nothing with it. I know William’s been working out of it. I can show you where it is.”

“How many men would he have with him?” Argent asked from where he glided down the hall. “Would these partners be armed, perchance?”

The question drew her eyes wide with panic, but she shook her head. “I-I don’t know. I rarely mark my husband when he’s discussing business. You have to understand, he’s never had one of his ventures succeed.” Her brows knit together. “But this one, it’s been profitable. He’s not been able to keep himself from throwing the income in my face but…I don’t have the details.”

“I’m going.” Morley rushed back toward the door.

“So am I.” Honoria dogged him down the steps and onto the front walk before he turned and seized her by the shoulders.

His grip gentled when he felt her tense and flinch.

“You’re staying here,” he fought to keep his voice gentle against the rising tide of his own urgency.

“She’s my sister. Besides, you just said you don’t know where it is.”

Argent jogged down the stairs after them. “We might need backup if these associates are as shady as they are likely to be. I’ll go for Dorian and Ash.”

“Very good.” Morley angled himself in the opposite direction, lamenting how much city lay between Southwark and Mayfair. “I’ll meet you at the docks.”

Argent stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Is that wise? To go alone?”

“I don’t give a dusty fuck if it’s wise,” he growled. “It’s what is happening.”

The large man assessed him with that cold, cold gaze of his. “Are you good, Morley? Where is your rage?”

“What sort of question is that?” he asked impatiently.

“An important one,” Argent insisted in that monotonous way of his. “Where is it? Because I can’t see it. Is the fury deep or is it close to the surface? Can you make the decisions that have to be made? Because that is your wife and unborn child. What if you arrive to find the worst—?”

“Don’t,” Morley snarled, wrenching his arm away and shoving his finger in the assassin’s brutal face. They stood like that for a moment, Morley’s breath sawing in and out of his chest. “Just…don’t.”

It didn’t bear consideration. It would be the loss that shattered him completely.

Morley glanced at his reflection in the window. He didn’t look like himself. Harsh. Mean. Drawn tight and locked down. His eyes gone flat.

Dead.

“I’m going to get my wife,” he said. “You do what you will, I’ll do what I must.”

Argent nodded, leaving him

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