Brandon shrunk into the shadows as the door opened again. The man stepped out, the tip of his cigar leading the way.
For a moment, Brandon hesitated. Would they act tomorrow night, or would they simply make their plan tomorrow? Did he run to Emily’s side now or finish the job he’d started here tonight?
Then he clenched his teeth. She was pushing him from his path already and they’d only met the once. He had to focus. And so, squaring his shoulders, he set off into the night after the lit cigar. He’d warn the Duke of Devonhall about the threat to Emily and Abigail just as soon as he’d followed the money.
He had time, he reasoned. They didn’t even have a plan yet.
But when he thought of some man hurting Emily…
Still. This was what he’d come to do. Capture this ring of thieves and restore his name with the crown. He’d sacrificed so much to get here, and he would not stray from the path now.
He’d made so many compromises already.
Clenching his fists at his sides, he moved silently through the night.
Emily stared out the window. The sun shone for the first time in what felt like weeks.
Her sisters were all still asleep.
Isabella and Eliza were up late at their husbands’ gaming hell. They’d hoped to meet their rescuer from a few months’ prior. The one who’d held her in his arms and stolen her breath. The one who’d continued to hold her nightly in her dreams.
Eliza had seen him on two other occasions, and he’d introduced himself as Dishonor. Odd choice, considering he’d rescued them. To Emily, he might be the most honorable man she knew.
She sighed as her chin rested on her hand as she leaned on the sill. Of course, he’d sought out Eliza. Her eldest sister was so brave.
“There you are,” Abigail called from behind her as she swept in with a flurry of skirts. “At least the sun is out today.”
Emily didn’t bother to point out that her sister’s two thoughts were completely unrelated. “It is. It’s lovely.”
“Are you as bored as I am?” Abigail tossed herself into a chair. “When we lived in Cheapside and had no money, I thought that might be the worst our lives could get. But this…” She gestured around the room. “This might be worse.”
Emily surveyed the walls that Abigail has just referred to. Large mahogany trim decorated the tall ceilings as it gleamed with fresh polish.
Delicately carved furniture decorated the room and a roaring fire crackled merrily in the hearth. “Darling.” She gave her younger sister an indulgent smile. “How could this be worse than what we left?”
Abigail pshed. “At least our financial struggle held an air of excitement. Bash has trapped us in this house for weeks. Boring.”
Emily pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Abigail tended toward the dramatic. “The house has at least twenty rooms—”
“That’s not the point,” Abigail huffed. “We’re prisoners.”
Emily shrugged. It was difficult to deny that. Their uncle had been murdered, which should have been the end of their problems; but really, it was just the beginning. Uncle Malcolm had been working for some band of outlaws and one of them had attempted to marry Eliza.
So now, they stayed in Bash’s house…where it was safe. “Try to understand. It’s only temporary.”
“Temporary? For how much longer? It’s been weeks.” She shook her head. “I’m tired of doing nothing. I want to have fun. We’re heiresses now. We should be finding husbands. And dancing. That would keep us safe. We don’t even have to grieve like Avery.”
Avery was Malcolm’s daughter, their cousin, and she’d become yet another charge of their brother-in-law. No wonder the man kept them in the house. He’d gone from a bachelor to having a whole passel of women to care for.
“Dancing will keep us safe?” Emily said in her best teasing voice even as she turned back to the street. Her cheeks heated as she thought of the man she’d like to court her.
The one who only went by a secret name. A smile spread across her lips. She was the mousy sister, the quiet one, the nice one. How funny that the first man she’d ever wanted in that way was the most mysterious of them all.
Perhaps…she might surprise everyone yet and do something exciting or interesting.
“You know that’s not what I meant. Let’s go shopping. We can leave before anyone even wakes. Please, Em? I’ll perish without a bit of fun.”
“Bash and Dylan are investigating as much as they can. And Eliza and Isabella are at the Den of Sins to try and get Dishonor to visit again. Surely they’ll come up with answers soon.”
Her younger sister snorted. “You don’t understand. Not all of us are content with embroidery for a pastime. I need excitement.”
“Everyone is working very hard to keep us safe. The least we can do is stay home.”
“You don’t understand as you’re content with mundane activities…” She started again.
Emily stopped listening as hurt turned her mouth down.
She knew they saw her that way. Sometimes she looked at herself that way too. Abigail had personality, Eliza was brave and strong, Isabella resilient and so self-possessed. What was Emily? ‘Kind’ they said. Boring, they meant.
Her role had always been one of support. Convincing Abigail to stay home was the perfect example. But that didn’t mean she didn’t crave excitement too. Or a handsome, dashing hero. Or a chance to be as valued as her sisters. To know that she’d made real changes to make her future better.
She wished Dishonor had found her and passed information to her instead of Eliza. Even he seemed to know who the brave sister was. And she wished she’d gone to a secret gaming hell and been a dealer like Isabella had done.
She wished she was anywhere but here.
Most of all,
