loves me,” she said louder, and her heart seemed to jolt into life. “We have to turn the carriage around!”
Chapter Twenty
Winter came, and one day the fox returned home with a bloody head and a pair of golden earrings. He gave them to Bet and she put them in her ears.
“Why have you given me these?” she whispered.
“To remember me by,” the fox said, and he wasn’t mocking at all.
That night the red-haired man took Bet into his arms and made love to her.
The next day the fox did not return home.…
—From Bet and the Fox
Late that afternoon Gideon was staring at the crates of books in the library when he became aware that Keys was talking.
“…good news at any rate, don’t you think?”
Gideon blinked, glancing at the other man. How long had Keys been there? He honestly didn’t know.
“What good news?” he asked, because Keys had a worried line between his brows.
His gaze returned to the crates. Messalina’s books nearly filled the floor space. He’d been looking forward to seeing her face as she unpacked the rest of them.
“…Guv?”
“Sorry?” Gideon asked absently.
Keys took a deep breath, obviously trying to find patience as he began again. “Will Blackwell says as ’e’s ready to turn over the ledgers to me. ’E wants to meet with you before ’e does, and then ’e’ll travel to Newcastle. The business is doing well.”
Gideon stared at Keys. His business. His money. He’d thought of little else for years and years. Plotted and schemed to get right here, on the cusp of a fortune.
And now?
He gasped and bent over at the waist.
“Guv?” Keys sounded alarmed.
Gideon couldn’t reassure him because he was too busy choking on his own bitter laughter. Had he thought himself clever? More intelligent than anyone else? What a fool he was.
He’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted and lost the one person he needed to survive.
Oh God.
The thought sobered him abruptly, and Gideon dropped into the settee Messalina had picked out.
“Guv?”
Gideon shook his head, eyes closed. “I’ve lost her, Keys.”
“Then get ’er back.”
Gideon opened his eyes, if only to shoot Keys a weary look. “I can’t. I tried and failed.”
Keys wore the stubborn expression he normally had only when debating politics with Reggie. “You don’t give up, guv. Not on this. Beggin’ your pardon, but you need that woman.”
That at least was true.
“But it seems she doesn’t need me,” Gideon replied tiredly.
“Don’t know about that,” Keys said loyally. “The missus watched you a fair bit when you weren’t lookin’. Course,” he continued, “you’ll have to settle this business with the duke first.”
Gideon glanced at the clock. “He’s supposed to already be here. You did send that note, didn’t you?”
“Of course.” Keys gave him a wounded look and then furrowed his brow. “What if th’ duke tries to kill you?”
Gideon met his eyes and shrugged. “I’ll do what I have to.”
Keys nodded but looked worried. “Killing a duke, now that’s a rendezvous with the ’angman if ever I heard one.”
Gideon nodded. “I suppose, then, that I should do my best not to kill him.”
Keys shook his head. “I still say it could’ve been Greycourt who set those footpads on you.”
“Greycourt wouldn’t have endangered Messalina,” Gideon said with conviction.
Keys’s expressive eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. “So it must be the duke? Even though he wanted you to kill Greycourt? Seems a barmy plan to me.”
“Why not?” Gideon said bitterly. “The man’s insane. He’s finally decided I’m too dangerous to him.”
“But what about the highwaymen? The duke wouldn’t ’ave wanted you dead before you wed the missus,” Keys pointed out.
Gideon frowned. “I’m sure there are plenty who would not cry at my funeral—”
“Aye, you’ve a lot of enemies,” Keys muttered.
“But to actually pay hired assassins, not once, not twice, but thrice bespeaks not only hatred but planning and the means to carry it out…” Gideon shook his head. “This is someone who knows me.”
Keys threw his hands in the air. “It isn’t me nor Reggie or Pea, guv, swear on my ma’s grave.”
Gideon glanced at him irritably. “I know that.”
The door to the library opened. Reggie glanced nervously over his shoulder and intoned, “’Is Grace the Duke of—”
Windemere shoved him aside. “Yes, yes. Hawthorne! Where is he?”
Gideon stood slowly. “My money first.”
The duke glanced at Keys and then Reggie.
Gideon nodded at the big man. “You can go.”
“And that one?” Windemere jerked his chin at Keys.
“He’s loyal to me,” Gideon said firmly. “He stays.”
“Very well.” Windemere scowled at him. “I dislike being summoned to your hovel