The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(43)

“I’ll never play a trick on you again,” she said ardently.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Entranced by his crooked smile, she lifted her hand, traced her fingertip over the scar in his eyebrow. The one she’d always wondered about. “How did you get this?”

His smile faded. “A blasting accident. I got trapped under rock.”

“Blood and thunder, that must have been terrifying.”

“I’d had better days.”

“Is that why you stopped working as a navvy?”

“I suppose.” He hesitated. “To this day, I don’t like being trapped in tight spaces.”

“I don’t blame you—”

A rustling sounded outside the chamber. Heart thumping, Tessa whirled around, saw the departing swish of skirts. Just one of the housemaids passing by in the hallway. Nonetheless, it broke the spell, reminded her of where they were, what they still needed to do.

“We don’t have much time,” she said in a rush, “but I have a plan for finding the villain behind the hellfire attacks. First, we’ll locate the taverns where O’Toole, Knight, and Garrity gather.” She chewed on her lip, working out the details as she went along. “Nighttime would be preferable for reconnaissance, and I’ll disguise myself, of course—”

“The hell you will. You’ll be staying here.”

At Bennett’s implacable tones, she stiffened. “We’re partners. I’m not going to stay here whilst you risk your neck spying on those scoundrels.”

“I’m not going to spy on them. That plan is risky, and you heard your grandfather. Ming’s been tracking them for weeks now to no avail.”

Bennett had a point. “Pray tell, Professor, do you have a better plan?”

She thought the sobriquet might lighten the mood; instead, his jaw clenched.

“There’s another clue we can follow. The hellfire.”

She considered the idea. “That cottonish stuff? But we know little about it.”

“In my past line of work, I encountered a blasting compound similar to that material. It was created by a man I knew.”

The revelation came as a surprise. But it made sense. Bennett had been a navvy; it wasn’t surprising that he was familiar with explosives.

“Who is this man?” she said with dawning excitement. “Did he work with you on the railway?”

“He’s dead. And he’s not responsible for the hellfire: he knew his compound wasn’t stable enough to use for any practical purpose and kept the formula a secret because of the dangers. He knew it was likely to harm whoever came in contact with it.” Lines slashed around Bennett’s mouth. “He was right: he died because of his discovery.”

“How dreadful,” she whispered. “It’s like the story of Dr. Frankenstein.”

Bennett gave a curt nod. “The inventor is gone, but it’s possible that one of his associates gained the recipe for the compound. That they managed to stabilize it and turn it into this hellfire.”

“Do you know who these associates are?”

He gave a grim nod.

She worried her lip. “Why didn’t you mention this to Grandpapa? Shouldn’t we tell him?”

“I don’t want to implicate anyone, to cause anyone to suffer Black’s wrath, until I have solid evidence of guilt.”

Bennett had a point. In Grandpapa’s present mood, there was no telling how he might react.

“Let me help you. There’s so much danger afoot. You heard Grandpapa: Peel’s Bloody Gang might be involved, and no one plays a dirtier, more despicable game than them,” she said in disgust. “I’d trust anyone before a policeman.”

“My rules, Tessa.” His tone was unduly sharp. “I cannot be carrying on an investigation and simultaneously be worried about your safety.”

She bit her lip, wanting to argue. As much as she wanted to be part of the adventure, however, too much was at stake. Her family’s well-being and Bennett’s. She’d never forgive herself if either came to harm because of her.

“I’ll keep my end of the bargain. As long as you keep me apprised,” she added hastily, “of everything. I’m your partner, don’t forget.”

“Rather difficult to.” His voice was dry. “Now I’d best let you get some rest.”

The unmistakable thump of a cane came from the hallway. Nonetheless, she risked getting on tiptoe and brushing her lips against his jaw, which was hard and bristly with his night beard.

“Thank you for helping Grandpapa. And for taking a chance on me,” she whispered.

His eyes heated. He curled a finger under her chin. “You can count on me, sprite.”





15





Two nights later, as Harry made his way to his destination on Cheapside, he replayed his interaction with Davies. In the wee hours of the morning, he’d met again with the inspector on the Thames. He’d reported on Black’s enemies and the territorial war in the underworld, including the assassination attempt by Loach. He’d shared about the hellfire and his conclusion that Black was innocent in the matter of The Gilded Pearl.

“Goddamnit, we still cannot pin that bastard Black to a crime?” Swearing, Davies had raked a hand through his wiry hair. To his credit, however, he’d seized upon the bigger issue. “The situation is worse than I thought. We must contain this hellfire for such a weapon isn’t safe in anyone’s hands. If a war erupts, we won’t have the manpower to control it.”