can only hope he’ll recover.”
Ryder arched a brow at her. “You do realize he’s a connection of mine? And once we wed, you will be the matriarch of the wider family. I would have thought,” he went on, looking ahead, “that you might consider assisting with Henry’s recovery.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Mary’s smile brighten. “What a lovely idea—I hadn’t realized the connection was so definite.”
Ryder nodded, without compunction throwing Henry to her wolf. “Roundabout in a way, but solid.” From all he’d seen, male familial camaraderie invariably involved encouraging those not leg-shackled to surrender to their fate. And if one could earn approval from one’s wife along the way, all the better. “And don’t forget Oswald—James’s younger brother. He’ll assuredly need help.”
“Hmm,” was all Mary said.
Simon hove out of the crowd and waylaid them. “There you are.” He grinned at Mary, then addressed Ryder. “I—” Simon broke off as the Honorable Barnaby Adair joined them.
Barnaby greeted them with his customary debonair charm; Mary knew him well, and Ryder had met him on several occasions since throwing his lot in with the Cynsters.
“We,” Simon resumed, “wondered if you’d got any firm word on who sent those two men to kill you?”
Ryder hadn’t intended to bring up the subject, but . . . “No. St. Ives sent word that Fitzhugh had denied any knowledge, and those who heard him are inclined to believe him—and I’d have to say that would be my reading of the man, too. In the throes of a red-hot rage he might have sent men after me, but he’s not the sort, once he cools down, to lie and deny.”
“No matter the likely repercussions?” Barnaby asked.
Ryder considered, then slowly shook his head. “I would say that, regardless of his temper, Fitzhugh is an honorable man.”
Simon wrinkled his nose. “That was Devil’s view, too.” He met Ryder’s gaze. “So as matters stand we still have no idea who hired those men to kill you, much less why.”
Mary shifted so she could see Ryder’s face. His gaze flicked her way, rested on her eyes; she didn’t need speech to know he would rather she wasn’t exposed to the discussion, but if he thought she would excuse herself and move away—or let the three of them leave her—he could think again.
Apparently doing so, he shifted his gaze to Simon and Barnaby, and after a moment said, “My investigator pushed harder and learned that the man who hired the pair was a shady solicitor, but one working well outside his patch. The investigator paid said solicitor a visit, but only hit an even more definite dead end. The solicitor helpfully described the man who hired him to hire the pair of thugs, but the description would fit thousands of men in ton household staffs.”
Barnaby frowned. “The man who hired the solicitor was a servant?”
Ryder nodded. “No livery, of course, and the solicitor thought not upper-level staff, but from the solicitor’s description the man could have been anything from a footman out of uniform to a groom or stableman.”
“Or he could have been someone hired to hire the solicitor, and so on.” Simon shook his head. “Our chances of finding such a man amid the thousands . . .”
For a moment, no one said anything, then Barnaby stirred. He met Ryder’s eyes. “Given the situation, while I would rather it wasn’t so, I feel compelled to point out that you need to stay alert.” Barnaby’s eyes shifted very briefly to Mary, then returned to Ryder’s face. “If someone went to all that trouble to hire two men to kill you, then in my experience it’s unlikely that after a single failure, they’ll stop. It’s much more likely that they’ll try again.”
An instant passed; Mary looked from Ryder to Barnaby and back again. Then Ryder inclined his head. “Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind.”
Mary inwardly frowned. Bear what in mind? She got the distinct impression that the last part of the conversation had turned masculinely oblique.
Before she could think of how to press for clarification, Barnaby distracted her with a message from Penelope, and then an observation about his heir, young Oliver.
Simon trumped that with an anecdote about his two, also very young children. Mary had to hide a grin; it was truly amazing how fatherhood affected men like her brother, like Barnaby—and presumably, like Ryder. Something to look forward to; her grin blossomed into a smile and she shot a glance at him.
He felt it, met it; his