The Scoundrel Takes a Bride: A Regency Rogues Novel by Stefanie Sloane

beyond the grave?”
    Mary Riley’s warning meant nothing to Sophia. She knew that it should. Such indifference
     more than likely meant that her need for revenge had overwhelmed any sense of right,
     wrong, or otherwise.
    Still, she did not care. She couldn’t.
    “Mrs. Mason, do you know where Mary Riley lived?”
    “St. Giles, my lady,” the woman answered, getting up from her chair. “I filed a report
     with the Runners. They’ll have the address in their notes.”
    Sophia nodded somberly. “Thank you, Mrs. Mason.”
    “You’ve nothing to thank me for,” she replied, then quit the room.

9
    Bow Street Offices

C OVENT G ARDEN
W ESTMINSTER
L ONDON
    “Lady Sophia, good afternoon. We were not expecting to see you today.”
    Though Sophia liked Mr. Royce and would normally enjoy chatting with him, she was
     pressed for time. She’d left for the Bow Street Offices the moment Mrs. Mason had
     told her about Mary Riley’s tattoo. Still, there was a ball that evening that she’d
     promised Langdon she would attend. If she had any hope of returning home in time to
     prepare for the engagement, she needed to find Mary Riley’s file and be gone within
     the hour.
    “Mr. Royce, good afternoon to you,” she replied politely, slowing her progression
     but not stopping to invite a lengthy conversation. “You are correct—I would not normally
     be in the office today. A notation in one of the cases I recently reviewed kept me
     awake all night. I simply must read through it again, to be certain I didn’t miss
     something.”
    The Runner pushed back his chair and half rose. “I’ll fetch the file, Lady Sophia.
     Which one is it?”
    “No, Mr. Royce, that is quite all right,” she said quickly. She scanned the man’s
     desk, her glance alightingupon a steaming cup of tea. “I would not want your tea to grow cold. If you’ll just
     give me the key?”
    Sophia knew from past experience that Mr. Royce was a man who could not abide lukewarm
     tea. He eyed the cup with pleasure and smiled his thanks for her thoughtfulness. “Here
     you are, my lady. You’ll let me know if you need anything?”
    “Of course, Mr. Royce,” Sophia replied. Her smile held both charm and relief as she
     accepted the key and left him, hurrying toward the file room located at the back of
     the office.
    She placed the key in the lock and turned it, exactly as she’d done a thousand times
     before. Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder at Mr. Royce and felt a wash of relief
     when she saw he’d clearly already forgotten her and he’d taken up his tea, a file
     in his hand.
    Sophia pushed the door open. Careful to leave it ajar so that she might hear if someone
     approached, she stepped inside.
    Mary Riley had died barely three weeks earlier. Sophia walked to the first bookshelf,
     where the most recent cases awaited sorting. She lifted a large wooden box from the
     shelf and carried it to a table pushed up against the west wall of the room. Removing
     the lid, she began to flip through the papers, which were organized according to date.
     She discovered Mary’s file a third of the way through the stack and pulled it free
     from the rest.
    Her fingers shook as she quickly paged through the report, briefly stopping at the
     crude sketch detailing Mary’s injuries before scanning the remaining documents. The
     address wasn’t there. Sophia forced herself to breathe deeply and went back to the
     beginning, finding the information on the fourth page.
    She took a piece of foolscap from the stack sitting on the table and a stub of lead
     left there by one of theRunners. “Number Four Upper St. Martin’s Lane,” she said aloud as she took down the
     address then set the pencil back in its place.
    Stuffing the scrap of paper into her reticule, Sophia returned the file to the box
     and secured the top once again.
    “Find what you were looking for?” Mr. Royce called from his desk.
    Sophia hastily placed the box on the shelf and walked