The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(88)

Edward didn’t answer.

Iddesleigh delicately stacked lumps of coal around his tinder. It was odd to see the fastidious viscount working at such a dirty job. Edward hadn’t suspected he knew how to lay a fire.

Iddesleigh spoke over his shoulder, “So, what’s the plan? To sit here until you freeze? A bit passive, what?”

“Simon, for the love of God, leave me be.”

“No, Edward. For the love of God—and you—I’ll stay.” Iddesleigh struck flint and steel, but the tinder wouldn’t catch.

“She’s gone. What would you have me do?”

“Apologize. Buy her an emerald necklace. Or, no, in this lady’s case, buy her more roses.” A spark caught and began to lick at the coals. “Anything, man, but sit here.”

For the first time, Edward stirred, an uncomfortable shifting of muscles still too long. “She doesn’t want me.”

“Now that,” Iddesleigh said as he stood and took out a handkerchief, “is an out and out lie. I saw her with you, remember, at Lillipin’s lecture. The lady is in love with you, although God only knows why.” He wiped his hands on the handkerchief, turning it black, then contemplated the ruined square of silk for a moment before throwing it into the flames.

Edward turned his head away. “Then why did she leave me?” he muttered.

Iddesleigh shrugged. “What man knows a woman’s mind? Certainly not I. You might’ve said something to offend, almost surely did, in fact. Or she might’ve taken a sudden dislike to London. Or”—he dipped his hand into his coat pocket and held out a piece of paper between two fingers—“she might’ve been blackmailed.”

“What?” Edward jolted upright and grabbed the slip of paper. “What are you talking…” His voice trailed away as he read the damned note. Someone had threatened Anna. His Anna.

He looked up. “Where the hell did you get this?”

Iddesleigh showed his palms. “Davis again. He gave it to me in the hall. Apparently it was on the grate in your room.”

“The goddamn son of a whore. Who is this man?” Edward brandished the paper before viciously screwing it into a ball and throwing it into the fire.

“I have no idea,” Iddesleigh said. “But he must frequent Aphrodite’s Grotto to know so much.”

“Jesus!” Edward jumped from the chair and shoved his arms into his coat. “When I finish with him, he won’t be able to visit a drab. I’ll cut off his stones. And then I’m going after Anna. How dare she not tell me someone was threatening her?” He stilled at a sudden thought, then swung around to Iddesleigh. “Why didn’t you give the note to me at once?”

The viscount shrugged again, unperturbed by his scowl. “The blackmailer won’t be at the Grotto until nine.” He took out a penknife and began cleaning underneath his thumbnail. “It’s only half past seven now. Didn’t see much point in rushing things. Perhaps we can have a bite to eat first?”

“If you weren’t so useful once in a while,” Edward growled, “I would have strangled you by now.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.” Iddesleigh put away the knife and reached for his cape. “But it would be nice to at least bring along some bread and cheese in the carriage.”

Edward scowled. “You’re not coming with me.”

“I’m afraid I am.” The viscount adjusted his tricorn to the proper angle in the mirror by the door. “And so is Harry. He’s waiting in the hall.”

“Why?”

“Because, my dear friend, this is one of those times when I can be useful.” Iddesleigh smiled ferally. “You’ll be needing seconds, won’t you?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The old woman smiled at Aurea’s startled expression. “My sons roam the four corners of the earth. There isn’t a man or beast or bird that they don’t know. What is it you search for?”

Then Aurea told of her strange marriage to the Raven Prince and his avian followers and her search for her lost husband. The first three Winds shook their heads regretfully; they had not heard of the Raven Prince.

But the West Wind, the tall bony son, hesitated. “Sometime back, a wee shrike told me a strange story. She said there was a castle in the clouds where birds spoke with human voices. If you like, I’ll take you there.” So Aurea climbed on the back of the West Wind and wrapped her arms tightly around his throat so that she might not fall off, for the West Wind flies more swiftly than any bird….

—from The Raven Prince

Harry tugged at his black silk demimask. “Tell me again why we’re going masked, my lord.”

Edward drummed his fingers against the carriage door, wishing they could gallop through the London streets. “There was a small misunderstanding the last time I was at the Grotto.”

“A misunderstanding.” Harry’s voice was soft, noncommittal.

“It would be better were I not recognized.”

“Really?” Iddesleigh stopped fiddling with his own mask. He sounded fascinated. “I wasn’t aware Aphrodite barred anyone from her doors. What, exactly, did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Edward waved an impatient hand. “All you need to know is that we must be discreet when we enter.”