Seducing the Ruthless Rogue (25 page)

He hailed a hack to take him to the office, then he realized he had some business to attend before he could do anything.
 
He opened the hatch of the cab and called out new directions to the driver.
 
The trip took less than ten minutes.
 
He saw his target standing on the corner, hawking his newspapers.

“Alfred,” he called from the coach.

The boy ran over to the carriage.
 
“Care for a newspaper, sir?”

“Yes,” Mack said and gave the boy money.
 
“I also want something else, Alfred.
 
Please come into the hack and have a seat.
 
I don’t necessarily want our conversation overheard.”

“You were the gent with Miss Cassie when she got shot, weren’t you?”

“You have a very good memory, young man.”

“Yes, sir.
 
Know all my customers by name, I do.
 
How is Miss Cassie?” the boy asked as he climbed into the coach with Mack’s assistance.

“She is doing well.
 
In fact, she is the reason I’m here.
 
I believe there are going to be people watching you.”

“Watching me?
 
What’d I do?
 
They aren’t gonna hurt my mum or my sister, are they?
 
My sister is sick, and mum is so tired.”

“If they make a move towards either of them, you let me know, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Also, do you know anything about the packets you have been passing back and forth between Cassie and the newspaper office?”

“No, sir.
 
She just asks me to deliver the packet, and I do.
 
Then the newspaper will give me a packet to give back to her sometimes.”

“Do you always deliver it the same day it is given to you?”

“No, sir,” the boy answered honestly.

“I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I want you to stay as far away from Cassie as possible.”

“I’ll get the messages to her the same day, I promise.”
 

“You misunderstand me, Alfred.
 
I think Cassie is in danger, but the people that are after her do not know that she’s the one they’re looking for.”
 
The boy looked at him, confused.
 
“She is pretending to be someone else.”

The boy took a minute to think about it, then slowly said, “Oh.
 
The people you’re talkin’ ‘bout want me to lead them to her, don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Do they want to hurt her?”

“I don’t know.
 
Some might.”

“All right, sir.
 
I won’t say a word to anyone.
 
But will you tell Miss Cassie to stay away from me?
 
She’s forever asking about me mum and sister.”

“Of course, I will,” he said, wondering just how he would do that when he couldn’t even talk to her himself.
 
“And for your cooperation, I am going to send a surgeon over to look after your sister.”

“Oh, but sir, you don’t have to do that.”

“I am indebted to you, and I can think of no better way to repay it.”

“Thank ye, sir,” the boy said and hopped out of the hack and carried on with selling his papers, but with a smile plastered across his face.

During the short trip to the office, he had some time to think.
 
He could not tell Liverpool the truth as to who C. E. Jones was.
 
And when he had time to consider it, had he not concurred with every article he had read by Jones?
 
Had he not agreed, especially, that the government was not doing enough for soldier’s widows and orphans?
 
He had even applauded the author for having the guts and courage to call out the government.
 
So, why was he angry?
 

When he truly thought about the situation, it was not because he did not know Jones’ true identity.
 
It also was not because Cassie and Jones were one in the same.
 
If he were honest with himself, it was because someone had threatened Cassie, which brought forth another question.
 
Why did he care so much about her?
 

Thankfully, the hack stopped in front of the Horseguards before he had to think further about that question.

***

Cassie arrived home exhausted.
 
She entered the house and headed straight to her bedroom.
 
She removed her bonnet and tossed it on the chair, before falling crossways onto her bed.
 
Her eyes fluttered closed as she thought back over the day.
 
Never in her life had she been poked or prodded so much.
 
Growing up, her mother had been interested in things other than the domestic life, so Cassie had often worn clothes that other children in their small village had outgrown.

Mrs. Garrett and Mikala had decided that a pale blue silk with sheer overlay would be the most beautiful on Cassie for the event.
 
There had been a gorgeous, vibrant red that Cassie had eyed repeatedly, but Mikala had talked her out of it.
 

“Trust me when I say sometimes it is just not worth fighting society’s dictates,” Mikala said.

“Oh?”

“I have done it, and I have garnered the wrath of many, including Lady Jersey and her illustrious followers.
 
However, what are they going to do to me now that I am a duchess?” Mikala shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly.

“Have you been to Almack’s?” Cassie asked, hating the curiosity that tinged her voice.

“No, and I will not so long as Lady Jersey is in charge of who does and does not receive a ticket.
 
Clarissa, who is a very dear friend of mine, went on several occasions and said it was the dullest affair with the most dandies in one place at one time.
 
And the refreshments were horrible.”
 
The women giggled together.

“It sounds as if I am not missing anything, then.”

“No, not at all,” Mikala said.

Cassie continued to lie on the bed, letting herself unwind from the hectic day.
 
I wonder what Director McKenzie will do when he sees me in the dress?
she thought, then abruptly cut it off.
 
Where had that come from?
 
Why did she even care what that man thought?
 
She did not care if he was an enigma, he had been unbelievably rude, in front of a guest no less, at his brother’s house.
 
The man was irritating.
 
He saved your life
, a voice countered.

“Ha! He knocked me to the ground after the fact.”

He went after the shooter.

“Because he felt guilty thinking that I had been shot by accident and he was the true target.”

“Missy Cassie, who you talking to?” Chang interrupted.

“No one,” she said, turning her head to look at the man.
 
“I’m glad to see Director McKenzie delivered you in one piece.”

“He very angry.
 
We not speak entire trip.”

“I am not surprised.”

“He has secrets.”

“Don’t we all,” Cassie muttered.

“This note come for you,” Chang said, entering her room and holding out a piece of paper to her.

Cassie took it, opened it, and quickly scanned its contents.
 
She bolted upright as she read it again.
 
“How dare he?”
 
She felt rage racing through her veins.
 

“Who, Missy Cassie?”

“Director McKenzie, that’s who.
 
I don’t know who that man is that he thinks he can dictate to me and I will just obey like a pup being ordered to sit and roll over.”
 
Now she was pacing the confines of her bedroom.

“What has you so riled, daughter?”

“This,” she waved the note in the air.
 
Her father took it from her and she continued to pace.
 
“Well?” she asked impatiently.

“He would not have sent the note if it weren’t important.
 
Therefore, I think you should do as he says.
 
Stay away from the boy.”

“You are taking his side?”

“I trusted the man with my life, remember?
 
He has a reason for everything that he does.
 
You need to trust him.”

“I agree with Sir Graham,” Chang chimed in.

“Out, both of you, now.” Cassie pointed to the door of her bedroom.
 
Chang left almost instantly, not trying to hide the fact that she had hurt his feelings.
 
Her father had other plans.

“There is no need for you to behave like this.
 
Chang is worried about you and evidently, so is Director McKenzie.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“As you did when you were shot?
 
You are not invincible, Cassie.
 
And it is all right for you to rely on and listen to others.
 
I suggest you do what Director McKenzie has ordered.
 
He will let you know in good time when things change.”

“Thank you for your advice, Papa, but I have been taking care of Chang and myself for a year.
 
I think I have done very well without anyone’s interference, including yours.”

“If that is the way you wish it to be, then I will not stand in your way.
 
Let me just say this, it is much more difficult for a parent to attend their child’s funeral than it is the other way around.”
 
Sir Graham calmly left the room.

Cassie walked over to the door and slammed it shut, getting little satisfaction when it rattled in its frame.
 
She could not wait until she saw Director Stuart McKenzie.
 
She would set him straight about several things, including what he could and could not instruct her to do.

Chapter 14

“What is it, Preston?” Mack practically barked at the other man when he knocked on his office door.

“Sir Graham would like to have a word with you.”

“Send him in,” he sighed and pulled a large cloth over his desk, covering the papers that were littered all over it.

“You trust no one, I see.
 
That is wise in this day and age.”

“Thank you, sir.”
 
Mack stood and reached across the desk to shake the man’s hand.
 
“What can I do for you?”

“You have begun a war, if you did not know.”

“I am not surprised.
 
Your daughter can be quite fiery at times.”

“Yes.
 
I think I have made her see the wisdom of following your orders.
 
I am just not sure how long she will follow your directive.”

“I just need her to follow it through Mikala’s party next week, when I can speak to her in person.”

“You are choosing a party to discuss the matter with her?”

“I’m afraid I will be followed to your house otherwise.
 
Preston,” Mack called.

“Yes, Director?”

“Please shut my door.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mack waited until the door was firmly shut then turned back to the older man sitting across from him.
 
“Sir Graham, are you aware that your daughter writes editorials for
The Times
?”

“I knew she wrote articles,” the man conceded.
 
“I wasn’t sure what the nature of them were.”

“Have you never read any of her works?”

“Director, I am an inventor and scientist.
 
People want me to create things that will help Britain win the war.
 
I rarely have time to sit and read, and when I do, it is not for the joy of reading.
 
I read scientific treatise and tomes.
 
Material that will help me with my inventions.
 
Tell me, why do you read the newspapers?”

“To keep a finger on the pulse of the country and the world.”

“Exactly.
 
It aids you with your job.”

“You know, she is an excellent writer.”
 

“I have no doubt about that,” her father replied.

“Sir Graham, Cassie has successfully kept her identity a secret from everyone.
 
I have just recently pieced together that it is she writing these articles.
 
I was called into the Prime Minister’s office to find out who C. E. Jones is and put a stop to their writing.
 
Jones’ articles are making members of the
ton
nervous and irritating members of parliament.”

“Jones is Cassiopeia, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Jones was her mother’s name before we married,” he said, becoming a little rheumy-eyed thinking about his late wife.
 
“You do realize that it will do no good telling Cassie to quit writing.
 
She will do it regardless.”