Sutton's Scoundrel (The Sinful Suttons 5)

Tierney smiled again. “I regret to inform you that I can. Until later, gents.”

With an abbreviated bow, he took his leave, still carrying a pistol in each hand.

“You had better hope that bastard ain’t going to pay a call on your woman,” Hart muttered.

Well, hell.

What a muddle.

It was entirely possible that was exactly where Tierney was going. Of course, finding Portia would mean he knew who she was and where she lived, that Tierney had at least remained aware of his sister from afar in the years since they had last seen each other. He had no way of knowing, just as he had no means of determining where Tierney was headed. Meanwhile, Wolf could do nothing but remain where he was, tied to a damned chair, incapable of doing anything to help or warn Portia.

He was a failure.

An utter, abject failure.