Page 77 of A Dangerous Lord (Regency Spies & Secrets 3)

Corbyn unfolded the note.

You took away my life, so I took away yours.

He read the note over and over before he slipped it into the pocket of his waistcoat. How did Kerley know that he held any affection for Jane? He had always been so careful not to show her any favor when they were in public. He began to wonder how long Kerley had been following him.

His eyes scanned the courtyard. Was Kerley watching him now?

Stewart’s next words broke him out of his reverie. “The building that Hester mentioned isn’t far from here,” he said. “Would you care to go investigate it?”

“I would.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Stewart said as he started across the courtyard.

“Do you believe Hester?” Stewart asked, glancing over at him.

“I do.”

“After Hester mentioned this man, your demeanor changed,” Stewart commented. “Who is he?”

“He was a man I once worked with at the Alien Office,” Corbyn replied.

“If that’s the case, then why did he target Lady Jane?”

“He is under the impression that I have feelings for her,” Corbyn shared.

“And do you?”

Corbyn frowned. “Are you always this much of a busybody?”

“I am when I’m still deciding if I can trust you on this case.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Do you trust me?” Stewart asked with a knowing look.

Corbyn shook his head. “I do not,” he admitted, “but that is because you are a blasted Bow Street Runner.”

Stewart chuckled. “I see that your opinions are not easily swayed.”

“They are not.”

“We are almost there,” Stewart said, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “I was told that I can trust you.”

“You can,” Corbyn asserted.

“I am pleased to hear that.” Stewart came to a stop in front of a dilapidated brown brick building with boarded up windows. “This is it.”

“It isn’t much.”

“No, it’s not,” Stewart agreed.

They walked up the steps to the main door and Corbyn opened it. As he pulled the door back, the hinges groaned in protest and it dragged along the floor.

Corbyn retrieved his pistol and stepped into the dark hall. Except for the sound of rats scurrying across the floor in the distance, it was eerily quiet. They continued further into the building and saw an empty table in the center of a room with four chairs surrounding it.

“Whoever was here is long gone,” Stewart said dejectedly.

Corbyn walked over to the table and ran his finger along it. “I disagree. Someone spilled ink on the table,” he revealed, holding up his black finger, “and it hasn’t dried yet.”

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