Page 13 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

“I have never seen half this much confusion and fuss at the coffee shop,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “This used to be such a peaceful part of the city.”

“This is London,” Derrek said with a half-laugh. “It is never peaceful.”

Jeremy laughed with him, but before he could say something more, the men at the table nearest theirs began to cough.

“London’s lack of peace is part of its advantage when it comes to keeping you out of harm’s way,” Derrek went on, sending the impatient men, now the coughing men, a sideways look. “Despite what Conroy and his accomplice might think, it will be difficult for them to steer another carriage into your path again or to?—”

Derrek’s words dried up on his lips. He immediately realized how horribly wrong he was as the coughing beside them continued and shifted into choking.

Eyes wide, Derrek glanced from them to the empty table where the two other men had been to the doorway. The pieces fell together with sudden gravity.

“Jeremy, get up,” he said, standing quickly himself. He looked around the room, then called out, “Is there a physician of any sort in the shop? I have reason to believe these men have just been poisoned.”

“They were never!” Minnie shouted back in offense. She seemed to see the truth of the matter in front of her once she got past her dislike of Derrek. “Oh, lord!”

Derrek stepped forward, grabbing Jeremy’s hand and pulling him through the confused and curious patrons of the shop as they rose from their chairs to see what was the matter. “Come on,” he said. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Those coffees were meant for us,” Jeremy said under his breath as they pushed their way to the front door. “The man who delivered them to us must have poisoned them.” He gasped, then added, “Conroy’s accomplice said he had acquired deadly poison.”

Derrek didn’t need to stop to tell Jeremy he was thinking the same thing. He needed to get Jeremy to safety, get him away from the men he was now certain were attempting to kill him.

He pulled Jeremy out into the street, checked to see if there was any sign of the two men who had distracted Minnie and likely poisoned the coffee, then marched on in the direction of Jermyn Street. He could only pray that the amount of poison the two innocent men had ingested would not be enough to kill them.

“You’re not safe here,” he said as he walked. “I think we’ve just had proof that Conroy is, indeed, serious about dispatching the king. Enough so that he would murder the man who overheard him plotting.”

“I barely heard anything,” Jeremy protested, though he kept up by Derrek’s side as they walked swiftly around the corner and along the street toward the shop. “I barely had a look at the accomplice. I do not know who he is.”

“And yet, he and Conroy know who you are,” Derrek said. “You are not safe in London. You need to leave at once.”

“Leave?” Jeremy sounded stricken. “I am not leaving London. London is my home. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“If you stay here, I’m not sure how long I can protect you,” Derrek replied. He began to run through the places in the surrounding countryside where he believed Jeremy might be safe.

“I’m not leaving London,” Jeremy insisted again as they approached his shop. “I need to be protected, yes, but I will not be chased out of my?—”

They stopped abruptly in front of Jeremy’s tailoring shop. Though Jeremy could only have been gone from the place for half an hour at most, the windows were smashed and cloth, notions, and debris were scattered in the street, suggesting the window had been broken from the inside.

“No!” Jeremy called out, rushing into his shop. “No, this cannot be happening.”

Inside, the shop was a mess. Someone must have come in like a whirlwind and upset shelving, smashed the window, and knocked over tables. The curtain that separated the front of the shop from the back was torn, and when Derrek marched through, he saw a similar situation in the back.

“They barged in with clubs, six of them,” one of the young men in Jeremy’s employ, who had a black eye that was swollen nearly all the way shut, reported. “Before we could even ask what they wanted, they started smashing the place up.”

“Timothy? Are you well?” Jeremy asked, ignoring the debris and going straight to the young man to see to his health. “Artie? Are you well?”

“Right as rain,” the young man who had been so enamored of Derrek replied. “Timmy is right, though. They bashed in only ten minutes ago, smashed everything up, then left as quickly as they came.”

“They were looking for you, sir,” the boy with the black eye, Timmy, said. “They wanted to bash your head in is my guess, though God only knows why.”

Derrek saw Jeremy wobble before his strength gave out and he leaned into one of the worktables for support. “They’re trying to kill me and they aren’t going to stop until they do,” he whispered.

The third boy, who had been busy picking up scattered fabric and notions, dropped everything to run to Jeremy. Derrek was impressed by the care he showed but believed he should be the one to comfort his dove.

“Sir?” Artie asked, looking half defiant and half as if he wanted his mother. “What should we do?”

Derrek provided the answer to that question. “I’m taking him out to the country, where he’ll be safe,” he said.

When Jeremy straightened and stared at him in defiance, Derrek merely shook his head.

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