Page 128 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
“Never?” mused Rourke, deceptively mild. “No’ even when we all thought he was working for the Crown? Doing good for Queen and country?”
Fawkes hadn’t backed down; he still held Demon’s glare, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Ellie knew the control he was exerting and her heart broke for the way he had to undergo this inquisition.
“The difference between us,” Fawkes finally said, in a voice loud enough for all to hear, despite holding Demon’s gaze, “is that Ineverthought Blackrose was working for the good of Britain. Ikennedhe was working for his own greed.”
Demon muttered, “Fooking turd-goblets” under his breath and turned away, while Rourke hummed quietly.
It was…a damning confession.
Ellie did her best to smooth out the paper she’d been holding, her mind jumping through conclusions. Fawkes had never believed Blackrose was legitimate? He’d always known the man to be a traitor? If so, why had he worked for the man for so long? He’d claimed not to be loyal to Blackrose—and of course, Ellie believed him, because he was a good man—but he hadn’t been tricked into it either?
Thorne sounded almost desperate when he sat forward and said, “Ye didnae believe Blackrose when he recruited ye? When he spoke of ferreting out spies and traitors, the way he sold it to us? That’s what ye’re saying? That ye saw through his lies?”
“I’m no’ saying that.” Fawkes took a deep breath and admitted almost gently, “I’m saying he never told me any of that shite. I kenned from the beginning what a bastard he was.”
And still, he worked for Uncle William. He killed Father…on Uncle William’s orders.
“Was he the one to call yeDuke of Death?” asked Rourke mildly. “I ken, better than others, that a sobriquet can be useful in garnering a certain reputation.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered over him. Rourke Lindsay had been Blackrose’s Blade, an elite assassin, before that disastrous mission where he’d tried to eliminate his best friend.
Perhaps Fawkes knew that, because he inclined his head. “Blackrose…kenned my association with the Duke of Stroken. He thought it a convenient reminder.”
“Association,” Demon snorted. “Bastard son, more like.”
As if sensing her husband needed to be derailed, Georgia spoke. “Fawkes, did you kill our father?”
He stared at her a few heartbeats longer than necessary, expression carefully blank, as if trying to decide how to answer. Finally, Fawkes nodded, once. “I did.”
“You poisoned him?” Georgia pushed, one hand stroking the soft hair on her daughter’s head.
“I did.” That muscle in Fawkes’s jaw jumped. “He had a weak heart, and kenned I was one of his brother’s men. Blackrose himself recommended he come to me, rather than a chemist or physician.”
“He came to ye looking for medical help?” Thorne clarified.
“Aye. We met monthly in the East End, per his request. He wanted no one to ken he needed to take medicine for his heart.”
“Medicine,” spat Demon. “Yepoisoned him.”
When Fawkes didn’t defend himself, Ellie spoke, “Foxglove can treat a weak heart, but too much can be deadly.”
When Demon whirled on her, lips curled into a snarl, Ellie felt herself flinching back. “Hemurdered—”
And then somehow Fawkes was there, standing in front of Demon, blocking her view of her brother-in-law.
“Dinnae raise yer voice to her again.”
His voice was mild but the threat was clear.
Demon glowered at him and Fawkes held the man’s gaze. His words had been a simple statement, one he expected obeyed.
Ellie felt her chest tighten. Fawkes had protected her. He’d cared for her, he’d comforted her, he’d brought her joy and pleasure. He’d caredabouther when no man ever had.
Was there any wonder she loved him?
Demon was the one to look away first, stepping around Fawkes to frown at Ellie. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, before throwing himself into an unoccupied chair.
“So,” Rourke began clinically, “’tis simple. Bonkinbone has a weak heart, and needed medicine. His brother, kenning this, suggests a chemist who works for him, a man with a shadowy reputation already. Bonkinbone, trusting his brother, meets with ourDuke of Deathmonthly, accepting what he believes is medicine for his heart…?”
