Dishonor winced. Decadence was definitely not an ally. And his gut began to churn. He’d had to follow that money. He was so close to outing these criminals. But he had the feeling that he should have come sooner. That time was running out…
His choices had nearly hurt Emily before. He couldn’t allow that to happen again.
Another man appeared with golden blond hair and sharp, intelligent features. Brandon recognized him instantly as the Earl of Goldthwaite.
The other man’s gaze sharpened. “I’ve been looking for you.”
He came to stand with the others, three sets of male eyes and one ornery female, staring back at him. “There are five of you and one of me. What sort of trap could I possibly set?”
“You could have others waiting.” Bash jabbed his finger in Dishonor’s direction.
Menace stepped forward. “I saw your partner on the Thames. I know what he did.”
Dishonor winced. That did make him difficult to trust. And the mention of Ewan made his feelings of remorse swell. “Easily explained.”
“Start explaining,” Bash grumbled.
In answer, he pulled out his notebook, and handed it to Goldthwaite. He knew the man had been trying to find Brandon’s identity and he likely would eventually. He was a shark in the business waters of London. “I’m giving this to you. It’s a list of names and addresses of every man in the crime ring that’s been plaguing us. Including, I believe, the leader. I can’t think of a better man to identify each and every one of the names and places on this list.” He drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t slept in over two days; I’ve crawled through every back alley of London and I’m dog-tired. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t urgent. So please.” He shook his head. “I’ll go myself if you won’t join me, but time is ticking, and I’ve got a feeling in my gut that if we don’t act—”
“I’m coming,” Eliza cut him off. “I’ll just get my pelisse.”
“Eliza,” Menace hissed at his wife. “You can’t just decide—”
“They’re my sisters,” she said by way of an answer, then she turned and gestured to Isabella. “We’re not negotiating.”
“Can you believe her?” Menace mumbled, running a hand through his hair again. “What possessed me to marry such a strong-willed woman?”
“I can’t attest to that,” Brandon answered. “But I can tell you she’s exactly like my friend, her father.” He meant to make a point and his words hit their mark.
That stilled Bash. He looked at Dishonor for several moments before he gave a terse nod. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Within minutes they’d departed, crammed into the Duke of Devonhall’s carriage. “Start talking,” Bash grumbled the second they sat. “If I don’t like what you say, we turn around.”
“I’d like to know who your friend is,” Menace added. “The one I saw stealing from the crown.”
Goldthwaite had joined them too. “I’d like to know who he is.” He pointed at Brandon. “Not many men can hide their identity from me.”
Isabella and Eliza sat together holding hands. It was Isabella, with her eyes so like Emily’s that redirected the conversation. “You’ll all have to wait. Tell us what’s about to happen to our sisters that has you so worried.”
He gave a terse nod. “I’ve been following the coin. For about a month now.” He looked over at Menace. “And I was only able to do that because my friend, the man you saw, infiltrated the ring of thieves as a thief himself.”
Menace’s mouth fell open and then snapped closed. “Proceed.”
“Last night while I was watching the collection of coin, I heard about six men talking. Your uncle lost his life…” he hesitated, wincing as he looked at Eliza.
She straightened a look of remorse crossing her face. “We’re aware. Continue.”
“Your uncle lost his life because he failed to deliver you.”
He heard Eliza’s sharp intake of breath, but Isabella patted her sister’s hand. “Our uncle was a fool to make bargains with such men. Don’t think a thing about it.”
“I know,” Eliza answered. “But Avery never can know any of this.”
“Avery?” He asked.
“Uncle Malcolm’s daughter. Our cousin.”
“Who is also at our home,” Bash added, giving him a meaningful glare.