Earl of Baxter (Lords of Scandal 8)

He slipped an arm about her. “Perhaps.”

Logan cleared his throat. “There is only one way to find out.”

Mason gave Clarissa a squeeze as she let out a gasp.

“You’re not going to go there, are you?” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with fear.

He hated to worry her but this was his job. “I’ll be fine, love.”

“But you’re still recovering.” She looked to Logan. “Send the Bow Street Runners. You needn’t go.”

Mason stepped away from his wife. He hadn’t wanted to worry her, but he’d had a suspicion about who had sent those letters and he wanted to confirm or deny those fears. “We’ll take them with us for certain. Whoever did this, should be arrested and prosecuted.”

She reached up and touched his face. “We’ve only just put my past to rest. Why do this now?”

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Sweetheart, I promised to protect you always. Remember?”

His statement was met with silence.

“Logan will keep me safe.”

“I will,” Logan answered. “But he’s right, Clarissa. This man has been threatening you for months. It’s time we took care of it.”

“Bring Bash too,” she said as she looked down at the floor.

“Fine,” he replied. His brother was damn good with a pistol. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

And then he slipped away from his wife.

An hour later the carriage rolled up to the front of a dingy-looking building.

“This place looks about right,” Bash said from his seat next to Mason.

“The woman who came forward said they were in and out of the first floor. The residence on the left.”

“That’s amazingly specific,” Bash replied, craning his neck to look out the window.

Logan pushed back his curtain as well. “She lives just above. Said she saw the man who stays there in a priest’s collar on more than one occasion.”

Mason’s fist clenched as he let out a low rumble. “It’s him. Father Byron. I’m sure of it.”

“So what’s next?” Bash asked. “Are we going in there and pummeling a priest?”

“We’ll wait for the Bow Street Runners,” Mason answered. Not because he didn’t wish to race in and plant his fist directly in Byron’s face but because he’d promised Clarissa.

And he’d always keep his promises to her.

“Seriously? You dragged me from the club to sit in the carriage?”

“Clarissa insisted he bring you for assistance.”

Bash chuckled. “That’s because my sister-in-law is extremely intelligent.”

Mason didn’t respond. A carriage pulled up behind him and two men stepped out. The Runners.

As silently as they could, they climbed out of the carriage. Quickly, introductions were made. Jensen was large with fists like anvils while Hastings was wiry and had the look of a man who could get out of any scrape.

Mason allowed the two men to move to the head of the group as they all stepped into a narrow hall.