Natalia's Secret Spinster's Society (The Spinster's Society) (A Regency Romance Book)(5)

Knowing there was nothing he could do about the spirit of a woman who had gotten away, he walked over to the men. “Allen. Ellis. What are you two doing here?”

“We’re helping to organize Eights Week. You will come, won’t you?” Ellis asked. They’d all three gone to Oxford. Eights Week was a yearly rowing competition that had officially come to the school only last year.

“What about yourself?” Allen asked, looking between William and Frank. “What brings you back?”

“We’re looking for a criminal.”

The women gasped, and one looked ready to faint.

Ellis’ smile slipped away. “Well, do let us know if you need any help in capturing the fiend. We have friends everywhere.” That was the truth. Ellis had friends in the highest and lowest places in England, and Allen’s career made it so he’d dealt with quite a few people who’d spent time in Newgate Prison.

“I’ll take you up on your offer if it comes to it,” William promised. Usually, he didn’t like getting assistance from anyone outside of the Brotherhood, but these were dangerous times.

He and Frank left the building moments later, but William didn’t open the note until they were inside the privacy of a carriage.

William took a deep breath.

“What does it say?” Frank asked.

William looked up. “It’s a list of names.”

A heartbeat passed before Frank asked, ”How many?”

“Ten.” The list was of the ten Men of Nashwood, and considering the circumstances, there was only one reason their blackmailer would write them. Lord Reinburg must know the story. He simply didn’t know who was involved.

Yet.

“We have to stop her,” Frank said with dark emotion. “By any means necessary.”

William leaned back and smiled, “Welcome back, Doctor.”

“Indeed, General.” Then Frank looked out the window and went silent.

William allowed his mind to conjure the image of the woman with the wide gold eyes.

He’d seen that look on many faces before. Pure fear. Even before the war, William had known what it was like to take a life and he’d not forget the faces of those who died under his hand.



And he’d not forget her either.








CHAPTER THREE





.





That had been too close.



Leah struggled to breathe in the confines of the carriage. She hated small places, but there was no leaving it. She was on her way back to London. The plan had been to remain in Oxford for another day at least, but she could not. Seeing William had been a shock to her very nerves, and how she’d managed to slip away from him, she didn’t know.

She’d never managed to slip away from him before.

“Vagabond,” she whispered, recalling the name she’d given him twenty years ago, after hearing her father use the term when he’d spotted one of the gypsy people on their lands. She’d thought the word fit Will well. He’d always been a shade darker than the others. His skin was like sweet honey and his hair so dark that many thought it black.

But Leah knew otherwise. The only part of him that seemed mildly civilized were his eyes. They were such a stunning green that even when he’d been but ten, they’d rendered her young mind speechless a time or two. But those eyes were only civil when Will wished them to be. Otherwise, he could become quite beastly.

All she had to do was remember the way he’d killed Starlight to know what he was capable of.

And then there was the night that the Marchioness of Darvess had died…

She shivered in the darkness as she recalled the intent gaze he’d speared her with in the observatory. She’d seen her death in that gaze. The very thought of his hands upon her made it hard for her to breathe. She had no choice but to leave and return to her post as a teacher in London immediately.

She was thankful that her friend, Mr. Levander Cross, had given her use of his carriage while he was away. The man who supplied most of England’s ice wouldn’t miss it while away in Canada.

Removing her wig, she settled in for the long journey and prayed that if Will saw her again, he’d not recognize her.



* * *



She arrived in London two days later and immediately called her brother to her room.

Lorenzo closed the door behind him. “What happened?”

The long journey had allowed her to settle her nerves, and she was once again ready to carry on the charade she’d adopted since returning to England. For the last two years, Natalia Hext has ceased to exist and in her place rose Mrs. Leah Wells, a woman who’d married an English scholar she’d met in France only to discover that her husband was violent and had threatened to kill her more than once. Leah also spoke with a soft French accent every so often, to add depth to the character.

“I know who has been blackmailing Julius.”

He straightened, but his hands remained on her arms. It was clear from the expression in his blue eyes that he’d been worried. They were an ancient royal color that at times could appear more violet. “Who?”

She moved to the mirror to check her wig. In Oxford, she’d been brunette, but here in London, she wore blond. After pinning away the slips of her natural golden-red hair that tried to come out, she turned back to her brother. “It’s Sarah.”