Page 62 of My Rogue, My Ruin
She shook her head, forcing into submission her utterly sinful thoughts regarding Archer as a lover. The hallway was deserted, and she slipped down it before darting toward a narrow staircase at the side of the house. She descended without being seen and raced out a little-used back door leading to the mews, where she could escape with the least amount of notice.
Pulling her hood low, she hailed a passing hackney as she had once seen Gray do, and gave directions to a few townhouses down from Archer’s residence. The ride was quick, and after Brynn stepped onto the curb, she walked swiftly down the street toward Hadley Gardens.
She did not go up the front steps of the residence, but instead, slipped around to the back. She was taking a risk attempting to see Archer without a proper chaperone and without being announced, but she couldn’t take the chance that he, too, was being watched by Thomson or his men. As she rounded a neatly clipped hedge, she almost jumped out of her skin at the sight of the person walking along the mews, and heading straight for her.
“Eloise!” Brynn exclaimed in breathless surprise.
“Lady Briannon.” The girl’s eyes widened behind the sheer veil she wore. “I did not expect you.”
Brynn took Eloise’s hand and led her out of sight of the house to a nearby garden bench. She had not thought Eloise would arrive from Essex so soon, but her brother must have sent for her immediately.
“What are you doing back here?” Eloise asked, glancing around. “Is Lady Dinsmore with you as well?”
Brynn shook her head. “I…I came alone.” She paused, her face flushing. Her presence here, instead of at the proper entrance, had to appear strange. Perhaps suspicious.
She took in Eloise’s red eyes and wan complexion as they settled on the garden bench, the marble cold beneath them. She gave Eloise’s hand a squeeze. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
Eloise nodded, lifting a handkerchief behind her veil as she sniffled. “You must be aware of how it was between us…but he was my father. I can’t imagine someone attacking him. Everyone adored him.” Brynn heard her sobbing some more, her red-tipped nose visible, even through the veil’s lacy pattern. Brynn shifted closer and patted her lightly on the back.
“There, there,” she soothed, rubbing her shoulders. It had been so long since she and Eloise had considered each other friends. But that wasn’t the only reason Brynn felt awkward consoling her right now. She’d been caught approaching the kitchen entrance to Hadley Gardens like an intruder. Archer’s sister was not so naive, or dejected, as to overlook that.
“Thank you,” Eloise sniffed. “I’m sorry I’m blubbering all over you, but it has been so much to take in. I haven’t talked to anyone about it. Archer has been occupied since I arrived.” She raised tear-dampened eyes to Brynn. “I heard that you were here last evening.”
“Yes. I was in the salon…when it happened.”
Eloise took a long, shaky breath and pushed the lacy veil up and over the deep-plum-colored silk flowers adorning the brim of her hat. Outwardly, Brynn did not flinch—she knew better than to react to Eloise’s disfigurement in so heartless a way. It did not change, however, the way her stomach tightened at the sight of the scars inflicted so many years ago.
“Archer is with that investigator, Mr. Thomson, again,” Eloise whispered. “He said it could have been anyone. Someone at the dinner, or a robbery. They are looking at all avenues. Even that Masked Marauder character.”
Brynn choked on a breath. “What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you seen the paper?” Eloise asked. “There was an attack near Oxford Street. Mr. Thomson said that the marauder cannot be ruled out.”
Brynn was surprised Gray hadn’t mentioned anything that morning, though perhaps he had been more concerned over her well-being than worrying her with news.
“But the Masked Marauder…he has never robbed someone in their own home. He…well, as I haveheard, he sets upon carriages.”
Eloise shrugged. “Perhaps the criminal has found there is more secrecy in invading homes. This is London, after all, with fewer opportunities for a carriage robbery that would go unseen.”
“That makes sense,” Brynn murmured. Her mind raced, considering and discarding multiple scenarios. She believed Archer when he’d told her that there was an impersonator. First, the false bandit struck in Essex while Archer was there, and now here, in London after Archer’s arrival in town. Was the impersonator following in Archer’s footsteps, then? Or was he, as she had surmised initially, another member of the peerage, coming to London for the season? The whole idea seemed preposterous, but then again,Archer—a pinnacle of the beau monde—had confessed to doing some marauding of his own.
Brynn didn’t quite know what the false bandit’s presence in town might have to do with the duke’s murder, but she couldn’t get past the coincidence. Though why would he invade Hadley Gardens and kill the duke? Unless…unless he knew who Archer was. Her heart flew into her throat, her tangled thoughts suddenly ironed out. It was a possibility she couldn’t discount.
“I hope they catch him, whomever he is,” she said, distracted by the terrible notion.
“I do as well, of course,” Eloise said. She took her hand from Brynn’s and laced her fingers together in her lap. “So. Are you going to tell me why you were attempting to enter the house through the kitchens?”
Brynn shifted on the marble bench. “Oh. Well, it’s a little…complicated, and I know it’s…not exactly proper, however…”
She had no idea how to continue. There really was no excuse, and her plan had been hasty to begin with. Desperate. Which she no doubt appeared to be right then.
“You are here to see my brother,” Eloise whispered.
“Of course not, I—”
Eloise took her hand again and, as Brynn had moments before, gave it a squeeze of reassurance. “How silly of me. You came to visitme, didn’t you?”
Brynn looked into her eyes, ready to apologize and confess, but what she saw silenced her. Eloise was biting back a smile, her eyebrows, one of which had a track of scar tissue cutting through, were raised in amusement.
