Seducing the Ruthless Rogue (8 page)

“You heard me.”

“You have had him safely tucked away for almost a year.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Mack charged, standing and pacing.

“All right, how did all this come about?”

“I caught Miss Graham searching my house last night.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you going to keep questioning everything I am telling you, or are you going to actually listen and offer some advice?
 
Because, frankly, I can get this treatment from John.”

“Perhaps you should shut the door before you finish this story,” Gabe said as a form of peace offering.

Mack did and took his seat once more.
 
“Last night was not the first night she had been in my house.
 
The first night she got away,” he hedged.
 
“She came back last night.
 
If Miss Graham can be trusted, she was accosted the other day.
 
The man told her he wanted maps that I have in my possession in exchange for her father.”

“Could she tell who it was?”

“No.
 
She said that he used French words, but that she could not guarantee his nationality.”

“Did you explain to her that you left all your paperwork at the War Office?”

“No, I did not tell her that, because that’s not what I did.
 
I told her nothing.”

“What the devil are you saying?”

“This is what I’m saying.
 
In the last year there have been more assassination attempts on me than the Prince Regent.
 
My office has been ransacked at least once a month.
 
My house, twice now, not including Miss Graham’s attempts.
 
Someone is looking for information they have not yet found.
 
Have you considered that having me ‘temporarily’ moved from office is someone’s way of getting me out of the way to more thoroughly search for information?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I trust no one.”

“Do you believe Miss Graham’s story?”

“I haven’t decided.
 
I took her this morning to prove to her that Sir Graham was perfectly safe.”

“And that is when you found him missing?”

“Yes, and the guard dead.
 
His throat sliced open.
 
It appeared to have happened several days ago.”

“What other signs were there?”

“None.
 
The crime scene was relatively clean.
 
There were not even any papers left behind.
 
I stopped by and told Captain Adams at the Runners.
 
His men were going to investigate.”

“And let me guess, you chose to let them know rather than the War Office because of your lack of trust.”

“Aye.”

“I can’t say that I agree with how you dealt with the situation, but I don’t know that I would have handled it any differently.
 
Do you have a plan?”

“To find Sir Graham and get his daughter out of my life.”

“Is she that hard on the eyes?”

“How would I know?
 
She’s so bloody stubborn, it’s hard to notice anything else.”
 
Mack looked at his brother to see him smiling.
 
“And you can bloody well wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you.”

“So now that you have told me all this, may I ask why?
 
What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.
 
I just needed to discuss it with someone I do trust.”

“I think you should tread cautiously, whatever you decide to do.”

“Aye.”

“And don’t be too hard on Miss Graham.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” he asked gruffly.
 
“You’ve no idea what I have endured so far with her.”

“Remember what she has endured the last year.
 
She has been on her own, most likely fearing the worst has happened to her father.
 
That is a lot for anyone, let alone a woman left on her own.”

“Oh, but I have a feeling you underestimate the dear Miss Graham, brother.”

“But you won’t, will you?”

“Not on your life.
 
Go get some sleep.
 
You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” Gabe smirked as he stood and joined Mack around the desk.
 
“Be careful out there.”

“I will,” Mack replied solemnly.

***

Cassie let herself into the house and shifted the bolt into place.
 
She leaned against the door and felt herself deflate.
 
Her knees became wobbly, and her hands trembled.
 
She saw Chang enter the hall and forced herself to stiffen her resolve.
 
It would do her no good to fall apart.
 
Besides, she had work to do.

“Missy Cassie, I so glad you home!
 
Did you and that man find anything?”

“Papa is definitely missing.”

“Oh, no!
 
But Missy Cassie, what happened to you?
 
You hurt?”

Cassie looked down at her dress, seeing all the blood once more, brought to mind the guard’s death mask again.
 
“I’m fine, Chang, but I do need to wash and change clothes.”

“I take care of water.
 
You go change.
 
Throw those out.”

“I can’t afford to throw them out.
 
I will just have to see what can be done,” she said, and moved toward her bedroom.
 
She ignored Chang’s Cantonese babbling as he disappeared into the kitchen and began banging pots.
 
Cassie pushed the thoughts threatening to overwhelm her out of her mind.
 
“Focus on one thing at a time, old girl,” she directed herself.
 
“Undress, bathe, dress, and then attend the rally.
 
There will be time enough for rehashing everything that has happened up to this point.”
 

She peeled the sticky dress and her undergarments off and let them fall to the floor in a heap.
 
Cassie walked over and retrieved her heavy robe from her wardrobe and wrapped it around her, tying the belt firmly.
 
She left her room and padded down the hall to the kitchen.
 
Chang had set up the privacy screen.
 
She inhaled deeply, smelling the aromatic oils he often gave her to put in her bath.

“Here, Chang,” she passed off her bundle of clothing.
 
“Do
not
throw them out, do you hear me?
 
Put them on to soak and I will deal with them later.”
 
He took the offensive clothing and held them out at arm’s length, chattering in his native tongue the entire time.

Cassie stepped behind the screen, dropped her robe, and stepped into the warm water.
 
She sat, pulling her knees up close, and let it lap against her skin.
 
She caught her mind drifting, and she forcefully brought it back to the present.
 
Cassie lathered a washcloth and scrubbed her skin until she thought she might make it raw.
 
Upon finishing, she stood and picked up the bucket of clean water before pouring it over herself, rinsing away the suds.

A few minutes later, Cassie found herself back in her room.
 
She tidied her hair and then pulled out a worn, but serviceable dress, and all the accessories that went with it.
 
Once dressed, she made her way to the small study she used for her writing.
 
She picked up a journal and a sharpened pencil.

“Chang, I am going to the rally.
 
I will be home when it is over.”

“Missy Cassie should not go out alone.
 
I go with you.”

“I will be fine, and if we want to eat next week, I have to go out.”

“Not safe.”

“I am not going to stand here and argue with you all day.
 
I promise, I will be perfectly fine.”
 
She walked over and gave the little man a kiss on his weathered cheek.
 
“Thank you for worrying about me.”

“Hmph,” he replied, waving his arm in the air and disappearing back into the kitchen, his long, thin ponytail moving like a whip as he shook his head back and forth.

Cassie grinned affectionately at the retreating figure.
 
“Lock up after me,” she called, before stepping outside.
 
The warm summer day worked wonders at chasing the last of her chills away.
 
She walked for quite a while, until she checked her time piece and realized she would have to take a hack or miss the rally.
 
Cassie walked a few more blocks before she found a conveyance not in use.
 
She paid the jarvey and gave him instructions before climbing inside.
 
She wrinkled her nose at the stench inside the carriage.
 
Finally, the coach rattled to a stop outside of the Parliament building.

“Thank you,” Cassie called up to the driver then made her way to the crowd that had formed.
 
Several people carried signs, and there was some chanting going on.
 
Cassie casually moved around the crowd until she stood to the side, in the shade of a building.
 
She discreetly pulled out her journal and pencil.
 
A man, a follower of MP Wilberforce and a member of the Clapham Sect, stood on the crate.
 
He raised his arms, and the crowd grew silent.
 

“Welcome!
 
We are here today to bring awareness to the plight of our fellow man.
 
Men, women, and children who have been unjustly enslaved.”
 
The man continued to speak while Cassie furiously took notes.
 
Her heart went out to the people he spoke of.
 
People who were ripped from their homes and families, forced into strange new lands.
 
“Though we have won a victory in the East Indies, we must win their freedom everywhere!”
 
A cheer went up in the crowd.

Cassie gently tapped the pencil against her chin as she began to wander away from the group.
 
She turned the corner and came face to face with another group.
 
These people were not as well dressed as the last group, and their tone seemed angrier.
 
A dark haired man incited this group of people.
 
She studied the motley crew and saw that along with the men and women, there stood children of all ages.
 
These people looked gaunt, tired, and malnourished.
 
Her interest piqued, she moved closer to the agitated group.
 
A devilishly handsome looking man made his way to the center of the group.

“We’re here to make sure
they
,” he snarled the word and flung his head backwards to indicate the Parliament building behind him, “know what they’re doing to us.”

The group yelled its support.

“Look, there are men coming out that side door,” someone called, pointing in the direction of well-dressed men pouring out of the building.

“Follow me,” he called, waving his arm for the group to follow him.
 
Then the strangest thing happened.
 
The group fitted masks into place as if they did not want to be recognized.
 
Intrigued, Cassie kept close to the building but followed the group towards its quarry.
 
“Ho there!
 
Where you think you be going now, my lords?”
 
The group formed a semi-circle around the men, impeding their movement.

“Here now, get out of our way,” several of the finely dressed men ordered.

“Not until you’ve heard what we have to say,” the leader said.

“Speak then.”

“You bring your machines to our factories.
 
You claim to want to make our jobs easier, but in fact you are stealing our jobs.”

“Aye, you’re rippin’ the food out of babes’ mouths!”

“Isn’t it enough that you already live better than us?”

“Ye’ live in them fancy houses with all them servants.
 
What more do you want?”

“Enough!” one of the men roared at the masked group.

“No, it isn’t enough!
 
It will never be enough.
 
We will destroy the machines until you see things our way!”

“Runners!
 
Runners!”

“You have not heard the last of us!”
 
The group quickly dispersed ripping their masks off as they did so, all scattering in different directions.
 

When the Runners did arrive, there was no one to chase.
 
The Parliament members were standing about blustering to the Runners and Cassie tried to frantically capture the scene in words.

“They practically attacked us!” one man ranted.

“Made threats!” another bellowed.