Page 127 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
“Still,” Rourke offered gently, “it could no’ have been an easy thing to learn.”
Swallowing, Ellie lowered her gaze again. It was easier than meeting the pitying gazes around her. “What was difficult was knowing, after my husband’s death and my imminent dismissal from his home, that the only man I had to turn to was the man who had taken my father’s place.”Possibly had my father killed? “Blackrose came to me, offering me a place, and…”
Thank God she hadn’t had to take him up on his offer.
As if she’d conjured Fawkes, she felt a large, warm hand on her shoulder. Gratefully, she reached up and grasped it, his touch a lifeline. She could feel her cheeks flushing, but didn’t care what these men assumed.
Georgia knew the truth; Ellie had whispered the whole torrid story—from her ill-considered pregnancy plan to the Christmas revelations—during her sister’s recovery.
And yes, Ellie had confessed her true feelings for the man who’d saved her.
Not to him, of course. That would have been ridiculous.
Squeezing Fawkes’s hand, Ellie took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “Blackrose is an evil man, a traitor. It was difficult to learn my father was part of his schemes, but not unbelievable. I wish…” She shook her head slightly. “If I had learned this sooner, perhaps…”
“Ye didnae,” growled Demon, his glare now fastened over her shoulder, where she knew Fawkes stood. “It would’ve been cockthrobbingly convenient to be able to interrogate the bastard, but now he’s dead.”
“Oh, I dinnae ken,” Thorne said mildly, fiddling with his pocketwatch. “It seems convenient that Bonkinbone died, and saved us the trouble of having to prosecute him.”
Ellie knew the man was trying to be supportive of Fawkes, but he sounded so…callous.
Rourke cleared this throat, drawing all eyes. He was cold, commanding, and in his own way, elegant. Now he speared Fawkes with a sharp gaze.
“Thorne explained certain conclusions the brilliant Lady Danielle reached in her investigation—specifically, how her father died. Perhaps, MacMillan, it is time ye enlighten all of us.”
His fingers tightened once, then he released her.
Ellie twisted to follow Fawkes as he moved in front of the hearth and stood, silhouetted by the flames, with his hands behind his back. His chin rose, and although he was fully clothed in a serviceable suit, she couldn’t help but remember that very first night she’d met him.
How primal he’d looked, a wild animal, barely caged.
Now Fawkes inclined his head to Georgia, and met the eyes of each of the men in turn. His expression was calm. Was she the only one who saw the uncertainty in his eyes?
“I was one of Blackrose’s men. No’ an agent, like ye, but…”
“A freelancer?” Rourke offered, the slightest turn of his lips.
“Acontractor, perhaps,” Fawkes finished with a shrug. “He would send word when he needed a particular dosage or something unique, and I would deliver. Thrice, he sent me on specific missions with his agents, to correctly administer the poisons.”
He nodded to Demon, who was pacing once more.
“Poisons! Insidious dick-donkey,poison. It’s a coward’s weapon.”
Ellie straightened, ready to defend Fawkes. He was no coward!
It was Georgia who came to his defense. “You have said yourself, my love, that Fawkes’spoisonslikely saved my life, and you owed him a great debt of gratitude.”
Wellthatwas a surprise. As Demon grumbled under his breath—clearly unwilling to deliver the praise to Fawkes in person, she turned to Fawkes.
But the man she loved shrugged, unoffended. “I didnae want it to be a weapon in the first place.”
Demon snorted. “Bullshite. Ye worked for him longer than any of us. Thorne got out years ago, when he became his uncle’s heir. Rourke and I escaped the purge, as did Calderbank. Ye, though!” The scarred man pointed a blunt finger at Fawkes. “Yedid his bidding until the bastard returned to Britain. If Thorne had no’ broken into yer flat, we might no’ have kenned ye were out of it at all.”
“But I am,” Fawkes said quietly. “I’m free now, just as ye.”
“Are ye loyal to him?” growled Demon, stalking closer until his nose was inches from Fawkes’s, who didn’t hesitate.
“Never.”
