“He’s chasing some leads as to where they could be headed,” Lance replied.
…
Five hours later, after chasing several fruitless leads, Seb stood pacing in his office alone, all his men, including his office clerks, sent out since this morning trying to track down any information on where the last of the Lads gang were now hiding.
It shouldn’t have taken this long to track them down, not with Seb’s resources. They had to have a traitor in his organization, and when Seb found the bastard, he’d gut him for his treachery.
At least Livie and his sister were safe. He’d just gotten off the phone to the man he’d left in charge of security at his estate, and all was fine, with the ladies having just had dinner and were now reading in the library. No signs of trouble. Thank goodness.
For a moment, the last conversation he’d had with Livie flashed into his mind, and all he could hear was her telling him she loved him. A part of him had so desperately wanted to believe her. But, of course, deep in his heart he knew she didn’t actually love him. No one could love him knowing what he was capable of. She was in lust, that was all. And the sooner she realized that, the better for both of them.
Just then Rowan and Lance ran through the door, both looking flushed and with sweat running down their foreheads.
“I’ve received word,” Rowan panted. “The leader of the Lads and three of his men were spotted boarding a train about an hour ago. They were heading to Cambridge. He must know you’ve taken them to your estate.”
“And I reckon he must also know you’re not there to protect them,” Lance added. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have risked going and possibly having to confront you.”
“Goddamnit!” Seb walked over and slammed his fist against the wall, causing a hole in the wall plaster. “He organized this. It was a trap to get me back to London.”
“It looks like it,” Lance agreed. “I did think we’d found him too easily earlier, but he’d obviously put out word where he was, so we could. All in a ruse to lure you away from your estate and get Lady Olivia on her own.”
“How did he even know she was there?” Rowan asked.
“We’ve got a traitor in our midst,” Seb bluntly replied.
…
“You’ve been unusually quite all evening,” Demelza pronounced as she carefully settled herself on the settee beside Livie in the library. They’d all retired there after dinner, with Charlotte on the far side of the room, happily playing the pianoforte. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with Colver’s abrupt departure this morning?”
Livie put down the book she’d been trying to read, and read being a very loose term for being unable to do anything but skim through the pages. “Why do you say that?”
“My dear, it doesn’t take a fortune-teller to see that something transpired between you.” Demelza tapped her fingers on the end of her cane as she stared at Livie. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Tell her what happened? How could she tell her godmother that she’d fallen in love with the most unsuitable man in the world for her? That he’d rebuffed her love. As much as she knew Demelza loved her, her aunt would never understand. Would be scandalized, in fact. But a part of Livie desperately wanted to tell someone, and Demelza was the next best thing to her mother. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Besides, you’d be shocked.”
“I think you’d be surprised at my reaction.” Demelza reached across and patted Livie’s hand. “I was young once, too, my dear, and Sebastian Colver is a wickedly handsome man, regardless of his background. If I were your age, I’m sure he would have set my heart aflutter, as he’s done to yours.”
“’Tis that obvious, is it?” Livie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I’ve known you since you were born.” Demelza squeezed her hand. “Of course it is obvious to me, for I was once head over heels in love, too.”
“To the late duke?”
“Good Lord, no,” Demelza exclaimed, before her eyes swung over to the window, staring out into the darkness beyond. “No. The man I gave my heart to was completely unsuitable. He was a groom in my father’s stables, you see.”
The news shocked Livie. Demelza had never breathed a word of such a thing before.
“Jacob Mallory was his name, and he was magnificent.” Her aunt sighed deeply. “So strong and handsome. He certainly turned my head. And I turned his.”
It was hard to imagine anyone turning Demelza’s head; her aunt was so formidable and aloof. “What happened?”
“Nothing, of course.” Demelza blinked and turned back to Livie. “What could happen? My father was an earl and Jacob was but a groom. Nothing could ever come of it, but still, knowing that, we fell in love. Jacob begged me to flee with him to America, to start a new life together. A life where our differences in social stature wouldn’t matter.”
“You didn’t go with him.”
“No. Instead I married a duke.”
There was a sad smile on her aunt’s face, an expression Livie had never seen on her. “Do you regret it?”
“Perhaps, sometimes,” her aunt allowed. “But in the end, I had to think of my family first. I couldn’t simply run away to America, as much as I perhaps wished to. Marrying a commoner, and a groom at that, would have ruined my family’s social standing, making them little more than pariahs. Besides, if I had let my heart lead me, I would never have seen your mother again, or been a part of your and your brothers’ lives.”
“Surely things are different now,” Livie said. “Sebastian is no groom—”
“No, he’s the King
