them must remember some detail of what happened that night in the farmhouse outside Quatre Bras. If my instincts are right, that’s when the traitor got away with the diamonds. I expect Alex Graham had tracked them down, and so they killed him.”
“If those unfortunate children remember anything it would be a miracle,” Herrington said darkly. “After all, they had just found out their parents were dead.”
“They might be our very last clue, I’m afraid. So far none of my sources in Dover and Le Havre has been of any help. Whoever these men are, they are disturbingly clever.”
Herrington shook his head. “It could be dangerous for the children.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Thorne slammed the saddlebags down on a worn pine table. “They’re my wards, after all. Young Graham was my best friend. He had gone to that farmhouse without me.”
“You couldn’t have known that—”
“That he’d be followed and murdered, his wife along with him.” Thorne finished packing the saddlebag and jerked the strap closed. “He took a bullet meant for me, Herrington. If I’d been with him, I could have stopped his reckless attempt to tie everything together at once. Now he’s dead and I can never forgive myself for that.”
Herrington sighed. “When will you be back?”
“God knows,” Thornwood said flatly. “Wellington has come up with a list of names for me to run down in Dover. If there’s difficulty, I’ll have to cross over to France.”
“Are you finally close to knowing who is managing things here in London?”
Thorne made a sharp gesture with his hand. “It’s better if you don’t know, Herrington.”
“Of course,” the other man said, flushing slightly. “I didn’t mean to presume to—”
“It’s a natural question. Still, you’ll understand if I say no more. Not yet, at least. There are too many gaps.”
As Dev turned, there was a knock at the door. He stepped quickly into the stairwell, leaving Herrington to open the door to a flustered Chilton.
“Someone is asking to speak with you, my lord. Demanding, actually. It is the young lady’s brother,” he added breathlessly.
“Very well, Chilton. I shall be up shortly. You’d better show our guest into the yellow salon.”
After the butler left, Dev moved out of concealment. “So Ian Delamere is upstairs, is he?” A smile crossed Thorne’s face. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to tell him the truth. He could be a wonderful ally in this whole business. Of course, it’s out of the question.”
Herrington frowned. “You’re leaving me to handle an irate brother?”
Devlyn swung the saddlebags up over his shoulder. “I’m afraid it’s all up to you, James. Ian is tough-minded, but he’s fair. I’m certain you can handle him. You’ve done a brilliant job with everyone else so far.”
“Your confidence is gratifying,” Herrington said rather grimly. “But I doubt I’ll fool those children much longer. Needle-witted, they are, just like Graham was. A damned bloody shame.” Herrington rubbed his jaw. “I only hope Lord Delamere does not practice his exotic fighting skills on my face before I can explain what happened to his sister.”
~ ~ ~
“Confound it, Thornwood, give me an answer! Is my sister here or not?” Ian Delamere stood scowling in the Earl of Thornwood’s sunlit salon. His hands were bunched to fists and his broad shoulders were tense inside an immaculately cut jacket of blue broadcloth.
“Yes, she’s here.” The ‘Earl of Thornwood’ tried to hide an edge of uneasiness. “I was just about to send a message to summon you.”
“You bloody well took your time, Thornwood. I demand to know what my sister is doing under your roof.”
“Recovering from a bullet wound, as it happens.”
“Sweet God, man, you’re jesting?”
“I only wish I were. I was seeing her home last night when two footpads waylaid us.”
“Seeing her home? What was she doing here last
“If those unfortunate children remember anything it would be a miracle,” Herrington said darkly. “After all, they had just found out their parents were dead.”
“They might be our very last clue, I’m afraid. So far none of my sources in Dover and Le Havre has been of any help. Whoever these men are, they are disturbingly clever.”
Herrington shook his head. “It could be dangerous for the children.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Thorne slammed the saddlebags down on a worn pine table. “They’re my wards, after all. Young Graham was my best friend. He had gone to that farmhouse without me.”
“You couldn’t have known that—”
“That he’d be followed and murdered, his wife along with him.” Thorne finished packing the saddlebag and jerked the strap closed. “He took a bullet meant for me, Herrington. If I’d been with him, I could have stopped his reckless attempt to tie everything together at once. Now he’s dead and I can never forgive myself for that.”
Herrington sighed. “When will you be back?”
“God knows,” Thornwood said flatly. “Wellington has come up with a list of names for me to run down in Dover. If there’s difficulty, I’ll have to cross over to France.”
“Are you finally close to knowing who is managing things here in London?”
Thorne made a sharp gesture with his hand. “It’s better if you don’t know, Herrington.”
“Of course,” the other man said, flushing slightly. “I didn’t mean to presume to—”
“It’s a natural question. Still, you’ll understand if I say no more. Not yet, at least. There are too many gaps.”
As Dev turned, there was a knock at the door. He stepped quickly into the stairwell, leaving Herrington to open the door to a flustered Chilton.
“Someone is asking to speak with you, my lord. Demanding, actually. It is the young lady’s brother,” he added breathlessly.
“Very well, Chilton. I shall be up shortly. You’d better show our guest into the yellow salon.”
After the butler left, Dev moved out of concealment. “So Ian Delamere is upstairs, is he?” A smile crossed Thorne’s face. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to tell him the truth. He could be a wonderful ally in this whole business. Of course, it’s out of the question.”
Herrington frowned. “You’re leaving me to handle an irate brother?”
Devlyn swung the saddlebags up over his shoulder. “I’m afraid it’s all up to you, James. Ian is tough-minded, but he’s fair. I’m certain you can handle him. You’ve done a brilliant job with everyone else so far.”
“Your confidence is gratifying,” Herrington said rather grimly. “But I doubt I’ll fool those children much longer. Needle-witted, they are, just like Graham was. A damned bloody shame.” Herrington rubbed his jaw. “I only hope Lord Delamere does not practice his exotic fighting skills on my face before I can explain what happened to his sister.”
~ ~ ~
“Confound it, Thornwood, give me an answer! Is my sister here or not?” Ian Delamere stood scowling in the Earl of Thornwood’s sunlit salon. His hands were bunched to fists and his broad shoulders were tense inside an immaculately cut jacket of blue broadcloth.
“Yes, she’s here.” The ‘Earl of Thornwood’ tried to hide an edge of uneasiness. “I was just about to send a message to summon you.”
“You bloody well took your time, Thornwood. I demand to know what my sister is doing under your roof.”
“Recovering from a bullet wound, as it happens.”
“Sweet God, man, you’re jesting?”
“I only wish I were. I was seeing her home last night when two footpads waylaid us.”
“Seeing her home? What was she doing here last
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