Marquess of Menace (Lords of Scandal 10)

He stared down at her, snapping his mouth closed when he realized it was ajar. “They didn’t trust me because I am no good.”

“Not true,” she softly whispered. “Do you think I am no good?”

“You are the best,” he answered fiercely.

She gave him a glowing smile. “Thank you. I just made a terrible error in judgment following Mr. Taber. It’s only because of you that I am safe and unharmed.”

He tightened his grip on her, shame filled him. “You don’t know some of the choices I’ve made.”

“You can tell me sometime. If you want. I’ll tell you some of mine too. One time I convinced a baron to strip naked and then stole his clothes.”

“What?” He sat straighter, worry and a bit of irritation coursed through him. “You did what?”

“I didn’t take off any of my clothes,” she answered softly. “Just took his and ran.”

He shook his head. “Eliza—”

“I know. Foolish. Reckless. Addlebrained. At least that’s a few of the choice words my sisters used. The point is…I’d make some terrible decisions without them. And let’s be honest, increasingly without you.”

Something deep inside him softened. “But if neither of us makes good choices then…”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Or perhaps we’ll know we have to watch out for the other person. Be a team and—”

The carriage door wrenched open.

“Bloody fu—” Bash stopped, glaring at them. “Tell me what’s going on this instant.” Then Bash climbed in and took the seat across from them, sitting with a heavy thud.

Dylan remained silent, allowing Eliza to explain what had happened in the garden. As he held her, he contemplated her words. A team?

The idea had merit.

He needed a system of checks and balances and so did she, apparently.

But he forgot about his thoughts as she started to detail what she’d overheard. “They said that he was on to them and that they knew where his warehouse was and that he might need to be eliminated.”

“He who?” Bash asked.

She shook her head. “They didn’t say but they did mention Fennington Street and I know my father bought property there. We went with him to look at it as an overfill warehouse for his business…”

Bash sat back in his seat as he scrubbed his face. “I went to see the solicitor earlier today. I have full access to the records and the addresses. There was no Fennington Street. I’m sure of it.” He leaned forward then, his arms resting on his knees. “What’s more, Dishonor is right. The books look perfect, but the totals don’t add up. The vendors sign off on goods received and money counted but then their actual sums are short. A large shop in Chesterfield and another in Dover have regular shortages.”

Dylan furrowed his brow. “Can’t we follow those shipments and see what happens?”

“Or have one of us infiltrate the company and try to aid in the shipments to those stores? But my guess is those runs have regular men who work them and are always on them.”

“Then those men must work for the thieves and not for Dishonor.”

“Yes. Let’s start by following them. See where they go and who they talk to here in the city.”

“But what about Dishonor?” Eliza asked. “What if he’s the he they are referring to?”

Bash winced. “He’s a man who can take care of himself.”

“No.” Eliza slid off Dylan’s lap, sitting up straighter. “He currently runs our profitabl

e business. He saved our lives not once but twice.”

Dylan raised his brows. He could feel the tide rising in Eliza and he had a feeling these were the moments when she made her less-than-stellar decisions. It was a chance for them to test their system of checks and balances. “Bash and I will find the warehouse and warn him.”