“We expected you later in the day,” Imogen said, changing the subject for Oscar’s sake as much as her own. “Not that I’m complaining, but has something happened?”
“Not exactly,” Diana said as she came forward. “We weren’t clear on how much research Mr. Barber here had put in on the Earl of Roddenbury already until I told everyone the connection. So it was much easier to compile our resources and come to you as soon as possible.”
Barber nodded. “You see, I was brought into the realm of this case when the granddaughter of a Russian nobleman, visiting friends here, was kidnapped. It was a delicate matter and not one those involved wanted to be made public. In that way I discovered the potential involvement of Roddenbury in the selection and trade of these young women.”
“I see,” Imogen said with a shiver, and leaned into Oscar’s hand when he placed it on the small of her back gently.
“In the past few weeks,” Barber continued, “Roddenbury has been putting out feelers, looking for a specific young lady. He wants it known he only wishes to talk to her, that she won’t be in any danger.”
Imogen’s lips parted. “Me.”
“Yes,” Willowby said. “You see, when the Duchess of Roseford reached out on Aurora’s behalf to look for her friend—you, Mrs. Huxley—we knew it had to be connected to this case and the disappearance and deaths of several young women. When we linked our information with Mr. Barber’s…well, it became clear Roddenbury has been looking for you.”
“We can use this,” Diana said gently. “Both his desire to find you and his lie that he won’t hurt you. By using you, we can draw him out and get the final evidence we need against him.”
Oscar stepped forward, placing her behind him like he could shield her from the suggestion. “You want her as bait.”
Willowby’s eyebrows lifted. “An indelicate way to put it…but not invalid. If I could hear Roddenbury admit that he was trafficking in young women, my testimony would be enough to move the case forward.”
“Because you’re a bloody duke,” Oscar growled.
Willowby looked at him impassively. “You don’t like that the titles give us power. I don’t love it either. But I am trying to use it for the betterment of those I can protect.”
“Including the young woman in my case who was taken,” Barber said. “We believe she’s still alive. We think we can save her if we can interrogate some of the players in Roddenbury’s scheme. Once he’s taken care of, underlings like the woman running this brothel, Maggie, will likely be more willing to discuss what they know. Especially if some leniency is put on the table for them in trade for the truth.”
Imogen swallowed hard. She’d been taking all this information in as they spoke. And it terrified her. The whole idea of facing off with Roddenbury, of putting herself in a room with him where her friends would surely be too far away to protect her, even if they were listening…it was horrifying.
But she could see it was the only way. Not just for her, but for all the women who had been injured or killed by the man they sought to stop. To those who could still be saved. Those who hadn’t yet encountered him but would be his next victims. How could she say no to the opportunity to do all that?
“I’ll do it,” she said softly.
She expected a reaction to that statement, especially from Oscar. What she didn’t expect was how he pivoted toward her with a look on his face unlike anything she’d ever seen before. All the control he had always mastered over his reactions, his actions, his emotions, was gone in that moment. What was left was fear on her behalf, desperation and something even more potent than all of that. Something she almost couldn’t believe was real.
“No!” he cried out. “You cannot mean that.”
“Oscar—” she began.
He caught her upper arms and tugged her closer, his wild expression burning down into hers.
“No,” he repeated. “I love you, don’t you see that?” Her ears began to ring and she opened her mouth and shut it in pure shock. “I love you and cannot bear the thought of you endangering yourself like that.”
Oscar was aware of the others in the room slowly backing out, of Willowby closing the door behind them all and leaving him alone with Imogen. But he never looked away from her and neither did she. She stared up at him, amber eyes wide with shock and, he thought, disbelief. Not that he could blame her. He had been insisting he would never say this to her for so long she didn’t believe it. He’d earned it.
This wasn’t how he had intended to tell her he loved her. He hadn’t exactly worked out how he did mean to do it. But not like this, as an argument against her helping anyone but herself.
All he knew was that his long night looking into the darkest depths of his soul had only proven two things: that he needed this woman like he needed breath. And that he would regret letting her go if he were so foolish as to do so. And when he had been able to feel that, as powerfully as he felt his love for her…
It was like someone had set him free.
“Last night,” she whispered, her voice cracking with both words.
He shook his head. “I know. I know what I said, what I did. But last night I was panicking. I was exactly the coward you so astutely accused me of being. But then again, I should have expected you might call me out on the truth because
