“I do not want you to
come to Green Park. I want you to wait for me in Brook Street.”
She swallowed down the sudden pain in her throat. “But why? I will not be a burden.”
His eyes grew bright, filled with affection. “You could never be a burden, but I cannot concentrate on the task if I am worrying about you.”
“I don’t think I can bear to sit there waiting, not knowing what has happened to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me. We will deal with Mr. Fellows and then put this all behind us. It will be over in a few hours and we shall spend the rest of the day making up for the years we have missed.”
He looked so worried, so tormented, that she felt she had no choice but to agree. “I do not want to hinder you in any way. It would break me if you got hurt because you were looking after me.”
Henry Fernall marched into the study. “Let us get this over with.”
A hint of cologne drifted through the air; the woody aroma made her nose itch.
“We are not going to meet royalty,” Tristan scoffed.
“One should always leave the house looking their best.” Henry tugged at the lapels of his clean coat. “One never knows whom they might meet.”
After spending a few minutes copying some of Andrew’s notes onto a separate piece of paper, they departed for Brook Street.
During the five-minute carriage ride, no one spoke. Henry Fernall used the opportunity to take a quick nap. Mr. Blackwood spent the time nibbling his fingernails. Isabella sat next to Tristan. Beneath the satin folds of her gown, they held hands.
Had Henry Fernall not agreed to accompany him, Isabella would have insisted on going, too. But she did not want to be a distraction, nor did she wish to spend time in Henry’s company.
“Promise me you will be careful.” Isabella stood in the doorway of the house in Brook Street. She put her hand on Tristan’s chest in the hope it would bring some comfort. Her heart thumped wildly against her ribs. The time for complete honesty was upon them. “Now we have been reunited I cannot bear the thought of living without you.”
Tristan closed the small gap between them. “You will never be without me.” He took her chin between his finger and thumb and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m in love with you,” he said softly. “Indeed, I have never stopped loving you.”
She almost choked on the surge of raw emotion bubbling in her throat. “You are the love of my life. You are my life. Hurry back to me.”
Tristan smiled though she could see a flicker of apprehension in his eyes. “With any luck, I shall be back in a few hours and then we can put this business behind us and start again.”
“Perhaps I should come, too.”
With tender strokes, he caressed her cheek. “We have already discussed it a hundred times or more. I completely misread Mr. Fellows’ character. I have no notion what the gentleman is capable of, and so I need to know you are safe.”
“I know. It is just that the time passes so slowly when you are waiting. I shall be beside myself with worry.”
Regardless of the fact that they were standing in the doorway, he kissed her once on the mouth. “I’ll be back soon.”
Chapter 22
The carriage rattled along the streets on its way to Green Park. Blackwood held onto the leather roof strap, his trance-like gaze following the dark shadows outside as they raced past the window.
Tristan studied Lord Fernall’s grim expression before checking his pocket watch. “Good, we should have time to take our positions before Fellows arrives.”
Lord Fernall folded his arms across his chest. “Do you have a plan?”
“Of course. Mr. Blackwood will demand an explanation for your father’s murder before he agrees to hand over the notebook. We will hide in the shrubbery until satisfied we have heard enough and then take him into custody.”
Tristan had to admit it was a pretty poor plan. But, from experience, he knew success was often down to luck rather than strategy.
Henry Fernall scoffed. “What? You expect Blackwood here to conduct a coherent conversation. The man is a quivering wreck.”
Blackwood tore his gaze away from the window. “I … I have no choice in the … the matter.”