Page 59 of An Honorable Deception
“I’m ... what?”
She pointed out the window. “Stop skipping the Sessions whenever they bore you and voting however is expected and start making changes. The system’s broken. You’re an earl.Fix it.”
Barclay might have been trying to fight down the grin, but he was failing. “Cheers.”
Yates pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled the chair closer to the desk. “I don’t skip Sessions because I’m bored, Lavinia. I skip them because I’m working for my bread.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that once you marry Alethia, so you’ll have no more excuses.”
Hopefully to Barclay, the words sounded casual and even. To him, they sounded like an accusation. “Can wenottalk about her as if she’s only a dowry?” He meant to add something about not planning a wedding with someone he’d yet to know for a fortnight, but his mouth snapped shut at the look on her face.
Hurt. Betrayal. Worse, resignation. Things he’d seen far too much of that night.
But he wasn’t supposed to see them inher. She was Lady Lavinia Hemming. She was supposed to be safe from that kind of pain.
Then he remembered that he’d been so busy facing off with Xavier over who had the right to try to win Alethia’s next smile, he hadn’t even noticed when one of his oldest friends slipped out into the night. Alone. To apparently go spy on a man they suspected of the worst sort of crimes against women, without so much as an electric torch to use as a baton if someone tried to attack her.
He’d done that. He’d done this—put those shadows in her eyes. Not her mother, not Barremore or Dunne or Rheams.Him.
Barclay cleared his throat. “Right. Job? Anyone?” He reached for the list of so-dubbed marks and read over it. His frown deepened the lower his gaze dropped on the page. “The starred ones—main marks?”
“Yes. Board of directors.” Yates tore his gaze from Lavinia’s and put it back on Barclay. “Second column is known players. Third is suspicious associates. We focus our energies on the first and what of the second we can manage. If we have the time and resources to gather information on the third, we do. But they’re not the primary tar—marks.”
Barclay nodded, lowered the page. Met his gaze. “And what about the victims? The women? What happens to them when you tear this house down?”
Yates opened his mouth, closed it again.
“We hadn’t got that far.” Lavinia deflated, rubbing at her eyes. She must be every bit as exhausted as he was. “Perhapswith these men out of play, the legitimate charities can be called upon to do their work.”
Barclay pursed his lips. “Or ... how deep do your pockets go, Lady List-Maker? You know what they say, I trust, about the best way to be sure things are done right.”
Lavinia leaned back against the filing cupboard. Her eyes had gone distant in a way that said the idea was spinning through her mind. “I’ve never run a charity. Never really worked with one, to be honest. I’m afraid the last six years of my life, I’ve been rather useless.”
“Then the next six, you reverse the pattern. You don’t strike me as the type to give up until you’ve done a thing.” Barclay shrugged and went back to the list. “And evidence of my theory, right here. Quite an undertaking. Please tell me this isn’t meant to be accomplished in a day. If so, I’ll have the regrettable duty of informing you it isn’t possible.”
Ideally, it would be done yesterday. Last year. Three years ago, when the Empire House first opened its doors.
But they knew their plan was too involved to be immediate. They had to be thorough. Otherwise they’d fail. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
Barclay touched a finger to a few lines on the shopping list, cross-referenced their other notes, and sighed. “Ideally? A couple months. We can’t guarantee any of these blokes will be there in any given time range, and that would give us ample opportunity to get what we need on them.” He looked up, eyes hard. “But knowing there’s at least one other little girl in that place, younger than Lucy . . . two weeks? Maybe three. We’ll work as fast as we can.” His gaze flicked to Lavinia. “And we won’t spend your money without cause. These are our people they’re misusing. My sister they grabbed.”
Lavinia nodded. “I trust you.”
Their guest laughed. “You shouldn’t. If ever you misplaced a bauble at a ball, it could well be one of my sisters who helped the latch come free. But you’ll have our protection now, both of you, I promise you that.”
The protection of a thief. A gang leader. A decade ago, Yates might have laughed at the idea. Today, he’d take it with gratitude.
He leaned back in his chair. “And I’ll do a favor for you too.”
Barclay lifted a brow. “You already did. Lucy.”
“Another one.” He smiled and folded his arms over his chest. “Lessons.”
“On scaling walls? We make do well enough as we are, thanks.”
Yates shook his head. “On diction. Accent. Grammar and vocabulary. You want toreallyblend into society? I can help.”
For a moment, he thought Barclay would refuse, out of principle if nothing else. But then he smiled and extended a hand. “You have yourself a deal, Mr. A.”
