Crossing the room she looked at Dylan, trying to convey with her eyes what she felt in her heart. “About what I just said…”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he answered. “Right now, focus on your cousin.”
She gave a stiff nod as she returned to Avery’s side.
But as her sisters arrived and Bash returned, she noted that Dylan and Bash had relegated themselves to a corner.
Leaving Avery in Isabella’s capable hands, she approached the two men.
Without a word, Dylan held out his hand and placed an arm about her waist.
“What are we discussing?” she asked.
Bash ran a hand through his hair. “How what was front is now back and left is now right.” His head dipped down and he looked…tired.
“What does that mean?” she asked, looking at Dylan.
Bash rubbed his forehead. “I just got a note from Goldthwaite. There is no Dishonor. I mean, it was a fictional name to begin with, but it turns out it’s a fictional name to cover a fictional name.”
“What?” Eliza gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
“Your father’s partner is listed as John Smith. And while thousands of John Smith’s exist, none of them match our man. The partnership is a fiction.”
She trembled as she placed a hand against the wall to steady herself. “No.” Right about now, she wished for Dylan’s strong arms to wrap about her.
He didn’t touch her, however. Instead he shook his head. “It gets worse. I saw Dishonor’s partner stealing from the king.”
“Oh,” she cried, her hands coming to her mouth.
“And he was at the Docklands…on the Thames. And if I were to guess, it was around the same time that your uncle…”
She clamped her hand tighter over her mouth to keep from making another sound but inside, she wanted to cry. She couldn’t stand another moment and she pressed closer to Dylan who wrapped her tight in his embrace. “You don’t think…”
“We don’t know. Is Dishonor the thief? Stealing this whole time? Playing us?” Bash scrubbed the back of his neck. “Why is that with every piece of information we get, the situation worsens?”
“I don’t know,” she answered quietly. Then she took a deep breath. “Is it possible that Dishonor and this other man are just trying to catch the thieves like we are?”
“It’s possible,” Dylan answered. “But it’s so hard to know.”
“What do we do next?”
“We?” Bash asked, his voice dropping. “Eliza, I know you’re still hurting from your father’s disappearance but—”
Dylan looked down. “Is that why you want to be part of this? Because of your father’s disappearance?”
She shrugged as her hand came to rest on his chest. “Partially. Even before that though…” She drew in a breath.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Bash said, giving them a sidelong glance. Apparently, he understood when they needed a moment alone. “I believe Isabella needs me.”
The moment they were alone, she looked up at him. “Dylan. I’m sorry that I cancelled our wedding. I didn’t mean it. And I shouldn’t have been so angry. You found out useful information and what’s more…”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have gone off without telling you what I was doing. I wanted to help but even as I was doing it, I knew I’d made the wrong choice—”
She shook her head. “I understand. You want to do the right thing and I did exactly as your parents would have done.”
He chuckled. The sound was sad as he dropped his forehead to hers. “I deserved your anger. That’s the thing. I always deserve it.”
“You don’t. Though next time, we’re going off together.”