The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(15)
“We haven’t discussed terms as yet,” Bennett said.
“Well, I can assure you that no amount of gold will be worth the trouble I’ll cause. If you take this job, you’re adding yourself to my List of Retribution,” she vowed.
He stared at her. Unbelievably, his lips quirked. “Your, er, List of Retribution?”
“An eye for an eye,” she said succinctly. “A Black never forgets a wrong.”
Instead of looking afraid, or even wary, amusement glinted in his eyes. “I’ll take my chances.”
“You will regret this.” Enraged, she poked him in the chest and was further irked when it felt as if she’d jammed her finger into a slab of granite. Ouch. Resisting the urge to rub her smarting digit, she stormed past him.
“Good evening, Miss Todd,” he called after her, and her face burned at the humor in his deep voice. “’Twas a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
You don’t know me, Bennett, she thought darkly. But if you insist on crossing me…you’ll find out exactly what I’m capable of.
5
After leaving Black’s residence, Harry took a room at an inn rather than return to his lodgings. He couldn’t risk Black tailing him and discovering his true identity from the landlord. He caught a few hours of sleep then left in the darkness, taking detours and making sure he wasn’t followed. He arrived at the Lambeth Stairs and took a river boat helmed by a man named Salty Finn.
As Salty Finn rowed him out onto the dark river, towards Inspector Davies’ waiting barge, Harry mulled over the recent events in preparation for the report he would have to make.
He’d begin by sharing what he’d learned about Tessa Todd. The facts were clear: she was a miss who donned deceptive disguises, cheated at cards, and didn’t blink twice at orgies or a man being shot between the eyes. Moreover, she’d admitted that her night’s adventures had been a lark. She was the wickedest miss he’d ever met—with the possible exception of Celeste De Witt, who’d used her seductive wiles to help her father steal Harry’s work. Who’d played a part in branding Harry a thief and liar.
As Sir Aloysius De Witt’s distinguished features resurrected in his memory, Harry felt a bitter anger. Celeste’s father was celebrated in scientific circles, but Harry knew what the man really was: a cunning, ruthless fraud. His only comfort was that, as far as he’d heard, Aloyisus’ scheming hadn’t done the other any good; as he’d told the bastard, some fires were too dangerous to be tamed.
Shoving aside the past, Harry objectively reviewed Miss Todd’s brash, bizarre, and, some might say, bordering on criminal behavior. He was aware that his intellectual assessment didn’t quite line up with his personal reaction to her. He couldn’t deny that Tessa Todd stirred up a certain degree of…fascination. She was like an experiment with wholly unpredictable results: the kind that had once kept him in his laboratory night after night, trying to understand the phenomena.
He told himself it was only Miss Todd’s uniqueness that roused his curiosity. Recalling her threat to put him on her “List of Retribution,” he felt his lips quirk. What made up the complex alchemy of this woman who was unlike any he’d met before? Miss Todd’s willfulness eclipsed even that of his sisters, whose delicate appearances belied strong-willed natures.
He knew one thing for certain: she was trouble. Thus, he would do the rational thing. He would acknowledge his reaction to her, let it go, and do his duty.
Arriving at his destination, he boarded the covered barge in the middle of the river. Ducking, he entered the cramped cabin, where his supervisor stood waiting.
“You weren’t followed?” Inspector Davies said without preamble.
“No, sir.” Water lapped against the boat’s sides as he and his superior took adjacent seats. “I took extra precautions.”
The flickering glow of the single lantern deepened the circles under the police inspector’s eyes. Though his wiry grey hair and deeply creased face placed Davies in his fifties, he had the energy of a younger man. In a way, Davies’ vigilance reminded Harry of Ambrose; indeed, his brother and Davies knew each other for, years ago, both had worked for the Thames River Police.
Ambrose had described Davies as an ambitious fellow with the single-mindedness of a bloodhound on a hunt. Harry would agree: his supervisor was devoting full resources to establishing Black’s guilt. Not only had Davies set up a rotating watch on the cutthroat’s home, he had every constable report in to him personally after the shift. He held the meetings here, in the dark oasis of the Thames, beyond the reach of eyes and ears.
“Give me your report,” Davies said.
Inhaling, Harry recounted the night’s adventures.
Davies’ straight eyebrows levitated toward his hairline. “You mean to say Black hired you to be his granddaughter’s guard? And you agreed?”
Having broken protocol, Harry knew he deserved censure.
“Yes, sir,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to tip him off that he was being investigated by the police. Given the circumstances, I also didn’t wish to contradict him. So I humored him.”
“Do you know what you’ve done, Kent?” Davies said slowly.
Something in the other’s manner made the ever-present knot tighten in Harry’s chest. He’d expected a reprimand…but was he about to lose his job? Damnit, why hadn’t he seen this coming? For two years, he’d lived in the shadow of disgrace, with the foreboding sense that disaster could erupt at any moment. Now, when he ought to have been prepared, he wasn’t ready.