A Rogue to the Rescue (The Rogue Chronicles #4) - Lana Williams Page 0,21

Richard didn’t guess how he felt about the topic. Especially when he couldn’t explain it even to himself.

“I don’t believe so. Caroline advised her to put it from her mind for now. I think my wife is enjoying her company. Annabelle and Margaret also seem to like her.”

Daniel smiled at the thought of Caroline and her sisters becoming friends with Beatrice. He hoped that was for the long-term. After all she’d been through, she deserved happiness and friendship. At the very least, he hoped she could enjoy a few carefree days before she dealt with the weighty topic of her future.

As far as he was concerned, the longer she postponed any decisions, the better. Taking time meant she’d be more apt to make the right choices. Her life had changed significantly in a brief period, and she was surely still grieving her father. That had to make choosing difficult. Having time to reflect and consider her options would make what she wanted clearer.

Never mind his relief that she’d remain in his acquaintance longer. He’d played a part in saving her, and his protective instincts remained high when it came to everything regarding Beatrice.

“Unfortunately, I have no news from my contacts about Mr. Finch,” Richard advised. “It seems the man hasn’t come to their notice.”

“All the more reason I would like Miss Linfield’s assistance to see if she recognizes the exterior of the brothel. Time is of the essence.”

Richard raised his brows.

“What?” Daniel’s defensiveness rose a notch.

“I find it interesting how determined you are to get to the bottom of the situation.”

“Aren’t you concerned that young women are being drugged, hauled off to brothels, and forced into prostitution?”

“Of course. Unfortunately, that’s been happening for decades. Centuries, perhaps. I merely find it curious that the problem has prompted you to take action.”

“I suppose one hears of such things and thinks how terrible they are. But one doesn’t truly take notice until a personal connection to the issue arises. Putting a face to a victim of the scheme changes everything.”

Richard nodded. “True. But I urge you to be careful, Daniel. Those involved would think nothing of committing murder to continue their crimes. For them, it’s about money and power. Not about right and wrong.”

“I intend to take care. Trust me.” He nearly grimaced at his words, for he didn’t think his brother did. “I think it best if you remain at arm’s length from the situation.”

“Why would you say that?” Richard appeared affronted at the idea.

Daniel only had to remember Caroline’s concerned expression to persist. “You will soon be a father. Your wife needs you more than ever.” Daniel smiled at the thought of Richard holding a baby. “As a future uncle, it’s my responsibility to make certain you remember your priorities.”

“Have no doubt that I do.” Richard’s grin made Daniel realize just how excited he was, but his joy faded as quickly as it had come. “While I look forward to being a father, I’m also terrified.”

Daniel chuckled. He couldn’t imagine his unflappable brother terrified of anything. He seemed to have nerves of steel after all he’d been through as a spy. “You will be excellent at it. That I know for certain.”

“I hope you’re right.” Richard sighed. “Caroline seems to have great faith in my abilities as well.” The look of not just contentment but true happiness that came over his expression said so much.

“You’re a lucky man.” Daniel was surprised to hear a note of envy in his own voice. Before his brother questioned it, he asked, “Is Miss Linfield in the drawing room?”

“Yes, I believe she is. Keep me posted on your progress, would you?”

“Of course.” Daniel bid him goodbye and walked up the stairs.

He paused in the doorway at the sight of Beatrice embroidering in a chair by the window. The sunlight caught on her honey-colored tresses, turning them even more golden and giving her skin a lovely glow. Her primrose gown made her look like a sunbeam. His chest tightened in an odd manner. He couldn’t help but rub it to ease the unfamiliar sensation.

It must be the sight of her doing something so normal that pleased him. Something she wouldn’t be doing if she hadn’t been brave enough to escape the brothel. Never mind that his fingers itched to free the pins in her bound hair to better match the disheveled image of her in his mind.

“Good afternoon, Miss Linfield.”

She startled at his greeting, suggesting she’d been deep in thought. He dearly wanted to know what