Marquess of Menace (Lords of Scandal 10)

He was trying to shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’d just made a series of terrible decisions.

The feeling wasn’t going anywhere.

Because he’d risen after a few hours of sleep and watched Eliza. Her face had been so relaxed, near angelic.

He’d risen and carefully folded her clothes. Then he’d dressed, all the while thinking about their future.

She loved him and he loved her. His chest still ached from it. But he had to prove to her that he was the sort of man she could trust.

He’d help her with her problems, with her sisters, and… That had been sound thinking in the wee hours of the morning. He’d decided to see the king.

Bash was right. It was the only way to move forward with the investigation. He knew he should wait for Bash. He was the one who’d seen the books and could prove the theft, but Dylan needed to know that he was actually a help and a true asset to Eliza and her family.

And this trip to see the king was not the adventure part. This was the sit-for-hours-in-a-salon-and-hope-the-king-might-give-an-audience piece. Surely, Eliza wouldn’t mind that? Or at least, that’s what he’d been thinking.

And by meeting the king, he’d add value to Eliza’s life. But a nagging doubt had begun to whisper in the back of his mind. Perhaps he should have asked her first? He’d wanted to triumphantly return to her side. He pictured delivering news that would help them sweep to her sisters’ rescue. But in the cold light of morning, he wondered…

Dylan had attended a Christmas party at the palace a few years back. He’d had a nice conversation with the king.

Which had led him to believe perhaps he’d be received.

Now, today, several hours later, as he made his way to the docks, he felt a surge of triumph along with a smidgeon of worry. Amazingly, he’d been seen.

Even more surprising, the king was aware of the theft and had come to the same conclusion, he needed to follow one of his compromised lines of goods. For him, goods he imported were said to have arrived but never seemed to make it to the palace.

But unlike Dishonor, the thieves had no idea that the king had suspicions. And with a shipment arriving at the London docks that very morning…instead of sitting in a salon all day, he’d sent Dylan to oversee its arrival.

Which was ridiculous.

Chances were the goods were gone already.

And Dylan had never run a shipping company before. How would he even know?

He needed Bash or Dishonor. Or Eliza.

And she was going to be furious when she realized he’d acted unilaterally. Why had he done this?

As usual, he was in over his head.

He sat next to a steward, who had not spoken a word since they’d left the palace, as they moved through the city toward the docks.

Finally, the man looked over at him. “Do you know anything about checking in crates?”

“No,” he answered truthfully.

“Then why do you think you’re here?”

He scratched his chin. “I’m not certain.”

The steward huffed out a quick breath. “Forgive me, my lord, but why would the king ask you to come on this trip if you did not serve a purpose?”

“Well, I’m about to marry into a shipping company being attacked by the same thieves.”

“Do you recognize any of them?”

“A few, actually.” He didn’t bother to mention those men were all in custody and being questioned by the Bow Street Runners.

“What I could use…” The steward curled his lip. “Is a man who can tell if the captain or any of his crew are lying to me.”