Page 7 of Cora
Being put out to pasture with the memories of his work as a spy would be unbearable.
Where was Victoria’s impulse coming from? She needed him. Early in her reign, there had been Edward Oxford, who fired a dueling pistol at the pregnant Queen on a pleasant June day. Two years later, a man named John Francis had attempted to shoot her. In that instance, Victoria’s own stubbornness put her in danger. She had been warned of a gunman, but drove out anyway. Victoria had a tendency to brush off danger. In a man, it would be considered bravery, but she was a woman and therefore sometimes held in contempt for downplaying risks.
Only a few months after that, John William Bean made an attempt upon her life, but considering his pistol was loaded with tobacco instead of bullets, Hawke didn’t count this as a sincere attack.
Recently, things had been quiet, which set him on edge. An absence of danger required greater vigilance, not less.
He knew this, and yet he was torn between his sworn oath to protect his sovereign and his desire to shield the woman he…
He would call it admiration, for now. Fascination, definitely. Beyond that, Belladonna was a luxury he could not afford.
Could Bella have run off? Tired of her decadent life half in the shadows and taken the opportunity to walk away from it all?
Possible, yes. She had been distractible ever since her encounter with the Witch of St. Giles, Biddy Ross. A procuress of children with a black book of names nearly as long as Bella’s, but far worse in most respects.
Including one John Erskine, the late Opposition Leader, and father-in-law to Mrs. Justine Erskine. There was another name, one that behooved Victoria to keep out of the press. Hawke had laid his trap well, but the Witch had beaten him to the punch. He’d meant to catch her in the act of attempted murder that evening. Instead, he’d arrived too late to save Erskine or apprehend Ross, and nearly too late to save Bella from a cunning setup intended to frame her for the crime.
Was it likely that Bella had walked away from her life? No. And that meant these miserable weeks of separation had probably been a thousand times worse for her. A spike of fear lodged behind his breastbone.
“Hawke.”
He jerked his attention back to the here and now.
“I was saying that we will spend the next several months making it publicly clear why I am granting you such an honor.”
He bowed slightly.
“You will finish bringing Ross to justice. Quietly. When she is tried and judged for her crimes, you will be hailed as a hero. By Christmas next, if all goes well, you shall be a wealthy man.”
By this time next year—late January—he’d be clad in muddy boots wondering which end of the sheep to start shearing from. He’d be drowning his sorrows in treatises on land management. He’d have no excuse to haunt Bella’s House of Virtue anymore.
Hawke liked the stimulation of high Society. A knight and a baronet might gain access to the lower rungs, but he held more sway in his current ambiguous, untitled status. People knew he was affiliated with the Queen, but they weren’t sure how. They curried his favor. Prince Leopold knew he was being closely watched. He suspected. There was nothing he could do to stop Hawke from reporting back every unsavory detail of his life to his aunt-in-law.
“You have my sincere and immense gratitude for your generosity,” Hawke lied.
“You shall leave off searching for that troublesome countess if you want your knighthood.” His protest must have been etched on his face—an uncharacteristic lapse of control—for the Queen quickly added, “That’s an order. If she wanted to be found, she would be home by now.”
He had the sinking feeling that Victoria was right.
CHAPTERFOUR
CORA
Gryphon House, Two Weeks Later
“Titi!” Cora whisper-shouted, crouching with her hands on her knees to peer through her half-brother’s slightly ajar door. Lysander was at his desk, head bent, while the besotted Yorkie gazed at him longingly.
“Get your pet out of my study, Cora,” Lysander grumbled without looking up. “Animals do not belong indoors.”
“Where do you propose I put her on a frigid day in January?”
“Outside. Where animals belong.”
She stood up with a huff and went to collect her deranged dog, who had taken an inexplicable liking to him. Poor Titi’s affections were not returned. The duke grumbled every time he saw her, which happened several times a day ever since they had been forced to decamp to Gryphon House.
Cora stroked Titi’s head and closed the study door behind her noisily. Not quite loud enough to be called a slam, but enough to convey that after a week of having to live with her half-brother, she was ready to consign herself to a nunnery just to get a bit of peace and quiet. Assuming she could find one that accepted pets.
“Ignore him. The duke is the worst sort of grump. I cannot figure out why you like him so well.”
