“You have a plan?” she asked steadily.
“I do, but it means keeping you locked behind closed doors until we have Mortimer safely on a ship sailing to China. I’ve sent warnings to Max to do the same with your sister.” He awaited her verdict.
“China! That is creative, but I don’t like the idea of placing you in any more danger, my lord,” she said slowly, as if thinking aloud. “Your good deed is done. Isobel and I are considerably richer. I should appeal to my future husband for protection.”
Gerard nearly broke his walking stick in half while he tamped his fury back in place again.
Winifred spoke before he could. “Don’t be ridiculous, child. You cannot marry that man-milliner. You will be fine living with us. Gerard can bring his many cousins to visit and perhaps you’ll find one of far more use than an American in search of a title. We should simply take the train and leave town now.”
“Man-milliner?” Iona’s lips twitched. “I do not think I wish to know the definition. You heard Mr. White. I need only ask and he will provide anything I wish. I could ask to be surrounded by guards. I really cannot expect Lord Ives to delay from his other duties any longer.”
“Give me tonight,” Gerard insisted. “I have everything in place. I want to finish this once and for all. I could not live with myself knowing you cannot safely return to your own estate because I did not follow through.”
She made a moue of distaste and studied the street they traversed. “I need to learn to act on my own again. Could we stop at the church for a few minutes?”
“The church where the gang’s bullies have already attacked us once?” he asked, unable to hide his incredulity.
“Yes, please.” She folded her hands in her lap, looking like a demure princess and not the stubbornly perverse beekeeper she was.
Beekeeper, of course. He refrained from rolling his eyes and ordered the driver to halt at St. Giles. In his lust, he’d forgotten that this was a woman who commanded bees. And he was a man who might die from stings. Charming.
Dangerous the old soldier said in satisfaction.
Gerard didn’t appreciate the notion of the butterfly countess being dangerous—but the spirit was right.
Iona was not only dangerous, she could be deadly if she applied her mind to it.
And he had no control over her.
Against his better judgment, he left her in the hands of his aunt and the intrepid ladies of the school.
Twenty-two
Fighting the gloom of watching Lord Ives drive away after leaving her at the school, Iona shrieked in delight to discover Isobel waiting for her in the parlor. They hugged and danced around like maniacs to the amusement of the older ladies.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Iona cried. “You need to be safe with Lydia so we needn’t worry about you!”
“So I can worry about you?” Isobel hooted in derision. “I have been crawling the walls in fear knowing your impulsiveness.”
“I am not impulsive. I plot very thoroughly.” Iona removed her gloves and allowed herself to be shoved to a seat while tea was served. “I am glad you are here but wish you’d waited a day.”
“Tell us what is happening,” Lady Agnes insisted. “Perhaps we can be of assistance.”
Iona let Winifred enthusiastically explain the morning’s events. Lady Phoebe and Lady Dare arrived to join them. At hearing about Mortimer’s gang, they were appalled.
“This is insupportable,” Phoebe declared. “Just as we’re trying to clean up the slums and restore this part of town, criminal gangs think they can move in? They’ll be taking over the palace before we know it!”
“I don’t think we need to worry about the palace,” Azmin, Lady Dare said, suppressing a grin at Phoebe’s dramatics. “But we do need to protect the school and the twins if their stepfather is involved with dangerous elements.”
“I know one of the books I left downstairs had information about the city’s lowlifes. Let us see what information it can provide.” Phoebe stood. “Come with me, Iona, and help me find it.”
Without waiting for a reply, she marched from the parlor. Startled, Iona hurried after her, half-running to keep up with Phoebe’s long-legged strides. They took the stairs down to what once might originally have been a ground-floor business and was now the school’s library.
“You have a recent book on thieves and gamblers?” Iona asked, unable to hide her doubt.
“Of course not.” Phoebe strolled through the stacks, caressing their spines. “I could see you plotting. My aunts tend to be. . . perceptive. It’s best not to give them any inkling of what you’re planning. I know this city inside and out. Use me. Do you know where they’re gambling?”
“I heard the Old Rooster mentioned. But you have a husband at home, and animals that depend on you. I cannot ask you or anyone to help me. I am not at all certain even I can help, except I can smell treachery and perhaps offer warnings.”
“And Ives are impervious to deceit. Gerard will only think in terms of honor and proper documentation and the like. Fortunately, Andrew understands I go my own way as he does. My husband is the epitome of a very modern gentleman.”
Phoebe pulled a book off the shelf. “Here it is. I did not lie about the book. It exists. It just won’t help. Were you planning a visit to the Rooster?”
“Or waiting outside. If Isobel were a little more stable, I’d have her watch the back exit, but I fear she’d faint before she could signal me.”
“The two of you together would be too noticeable, anyway, as would I or Azmin. We’ve attracted a little too much notice, and those who hide in the dark know to avoid us. But I
