An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,67

kiss me again in another attempt to seduce secrets from me?”

“If I kiss you, Amelia,” he promised, “it won’t be to uncover those kinds of secrets.”

She stilled instantly, except for her cheeks which flushed bright red even in the dim firelight.

As if needing to keep herself busy, she picked up her dress from the floor and shook it out. She made a show of frowning over the ruined satin, but he knew it was really to keep from having to make eye contact with him. “What do you care about any of this?”

“I’ve always cared about you.”

She turned toward the fireplace, ostensibly to drape the wet dress over the back of a chair to dry. But more than likely to put an even greater distance between them. Even with the blazing fire, the room had suddenly grown cold.

“I’ve never given you any reason to doubt that.” His voice was low and controlled, but he fought the urge to clench his fists in frustration. “Even when I left Birmingham for the army, I did it to protect you. And I’ll keep protecting you as long as necessary.” He pushed himself out of the chair and slowly approached her. “But it would also help a great deal if you trusted me.”

She held tightly to the blanket to keep it in place between them. A desperate shield, nearly as effective in stopping him in his tracks as the look of betrayal shining in her eyes. “How can I trust you when I don’t know your real motives? Or why you’re so interested in what my brother has done?”

A logical question. Yet something about the way she said it implied so much more that he couldn’t fathom. A defensiveness. The need to protect herself. An old wound. It killed him to see her in pain.

“You know that I have never done anything except act in your best interests,” he assured her quietly, “even when we were children.”

“But we’re strangers now.” Raw emotion filled her voice. “I don’t know you anymore.”

“You do know me. You always have.” Better than anyone else in the world.

“But the turnpike—and the blackmail…” Her eyes glistened. “You said at the shop that Freddie was involved with a criminal group, with dangerous men.” She swallowed. “How do you know that? Are you involved with them?”

“I’m set on stopping them.”

“How?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I see.” Disappointment rang like a bell in that short response, and she turned her back to him, facing the fireplace.

Pearce raked his fingers through his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was place her in more danger by telling her about Scepter. Or betray the men of the Armory. But if he didn’t tell her, if she didn’t understand why he was doing this—

He’d lose her again. This time for forever.

He dragged in a deep breath. “The group is called Scepter. They’re involved with smuggling, prostitution, bribery, blackmail—not just the criminal underworld, as you would expect, but penetrating all levels of society, including right up to the highest ranks of the aristocracy. And now into the government.” The bitterness bit like acid on his tongue. “Thanks to your brother.”

Slowly, she faced him. Her eyes still glistened in the firelight, but at least she was willing to listen. Thank God. “What do you mean?”

“The men your brother has placed into government appointments all have ties to Scepter. Men who now have positions all over Whitehall and the Court of St James’s.” He paused to punctuate the gravity of what he was confiding in her. “Men who are willing to commit murder and destroy lives to protect Scepter, to maintain its secrecy and power.” He slowly approached her. “Your brother’s only a pawn, but perhaps I can use him just as Scepter is. If he can help me make contacts in their organization, then I might be able to stop them.”

“But a handful of government positions, mostly low-level ones…” she whispered, barely louder than a breath. “Why would a criminal organization want those?”

“We don’t know.”

“We?”

“The men of the Armory.” He hadn’t wanted to tell her about them either. But if she thought he was doing this alone, she’d most likely do something rash to try to stop him and expose everything they’d been working so hard to achieve. “We’re a group of former soldiers who work out of the old armory just to the north of the City. Scepter came after one of our own and his family, and now we’ve pledged to stop them.” He fixed his eyes