Page 105 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
“Got one!” Fawkes cried, slapping it down in front of her. “This one was from a Monday, last August. Soon after Blackrose fled. See, the coded message is close enough to the top of the page that the clipping included the date.”
A tiny part of her mind noticed Fawkes not only knew her uncle’s code name, but knew when he’d fled Britain. That same part remembered that he’d “guessed” Blackrose had been in Canada, and wondered if his acquaintance with Thorne and the Duke of Effinghell meant he also was aware of the investigation.
But a considerably larger part of her brain was hopping up and down in a decidedlyunladylike manner, clutching the newspaper code and screamingI did it I did it I did it!
Breathlessly, she leaned over the scrap paper, furiously scribbling. “The J becomes N, the K become…O,” she muttered. “Oh my Heavens,it is working! Look!” Triumphantly, she held up the paper.
“Well?” Fawkes tapped the encoded message, which read:
KJ REBJ KY LTQRTES HMV NMTSEKTR NKJSEJTA SK SKQKJSK
Ellie was beaming as she read, “NO SIGN OF PURSUIT LAW CAUTIOUS CONTINUE TO TORONTO.”
“Toronto,” Fawkes repeated in a whisper. “Ye did it, Ellie.”
Before she could say anything else, he’d let out a whoop and lifted her from the chair. As he spun her around the paper fell from her hand, but she let it go gladly. Her heart felt as if it was floating, along with the rest of her.
She’d solved the code.
“Ye did it!” he crowed again, before he planted her rear end on the desk and clasped her cheeks between his palms. His green eyes sparkled. “I’m so fooking proud of ye, love. Ikennedye were brilliant!”
She was smiling when his lips claimed hers.
The yellow dress made it difficult to open her legs the way she wanted, allowing him to slip between her thighs, but his kiss made her want to do just that. Joy thrummed through her veins, triumphant joy.
I did it!
“Oh, for goodness sakes!” Estella’s voice came from the doorway, causing Fawkes to break the kiss with a groan. “I’m going to turn round now, dears, and walk past the door again. Isuggestye manage to make yerselves decent, because it’sChristmas, and there’s a wee lassie out here who is going to burst if she’s no’ allowed to open her gifts!”
Laughing, Fawkes pulled Ellie from the desk, but kept his arm around her as he led her back to the parlor. And every time she glanced his way, she saw the pride in his eyes.
Chapter 18
“More fudge!Look, Fawkes, I got more fudge!”
While Fawkes nodded and smiled indulgently—while secretly wondering what all this fudge was going to do to Merida’s next loose tooth—his mother leaned forward.
“That is calledtablet, dear, and it’s a Scottish specialty. It’s verra sweet, though, so ye must make certain to clean yer teeth well after eating it. I made it myself.”
“You did?” Merida gasped, and jumped to her feet to throw her arms around the older woman. “Oh, thank you, Mimi! Iknewyou were the bestest baker in all of Scotland!”
Chuckling, Fawkes’s mother wrapped her arms around the lassie and buried her nose in the wild mop of hair. “I think I am, too.”
Fawkes was reclining in one of the large chairs in the parlor, sending heated glances at Ellie, who flushed and smiled whenever she caught his gaze. He doubted it had anything to do with the crackling fire, and far more to do with the way her eyes sparkled with pride.
She’d done it! She’d cracked her father’s code, and quite easily too. He knew she was anxious to return to her room and see what other messages she could reveal. He was too, honestly.
Blackrose is back and ye’re no’ under his thumb any longer. Ye should no’ care about the damned code, or the plan to trap him.
Aye, but hedid. He wanted revenge on the bastard, same as Thorne or Demon or any of the rest. And now he was free, and didn’t have to worry about his mother’s safety any longer, he could work toward that revenge as well.
Ye’re going to have to tell Ellie, sooner or later.
He’d almost revealed his connection with the case a time or two—like that stupid comment about Canada—but apparently she’d missed it. He needed to just sit her down and explain.
Ellie, love, I was one of Blackrose’s agents. He was the one who gave me that stupid nickname, the Duke of Death, because of my connection to—och, it doesnae matter. Point is, I ken all about the investigation and the plan to trap the bastard.
Och, aye, certainly. And then, while he was at it, he could just nonchalantly mention he poisoned her father. Killed him. Put her in this godawful position.
