Page 41 of Tender Blackguard

“I’d like to review it all the same, my lord? Along with anything else you think could be helpful to our investigations. I assure you the information will be viewed by no one but myself.”

Alastair hesitated. To hand over something so damning and shameful went against his instincts. But Turner was right. The more he knew, the better.

“I’ll be just a moment.”

Leaving them in the hall, he ascended the stairs two at a time to his bedroom. He withdrew the box from the passage and opened it to retrieve his notes and his father’s notebook. But before he could do so, something caught his attention, and he hesitated as a frisson of alarm snaked through him.

It was a small thing. So minor he’d nearly missed it, actually. But he was a man of habit. And he always retied his gathered notes in the same way. Yet it was clear to see that they were currently bound with a different knot.

He realized he could have been distracted when he’d last gone through them—what? A few days ago, now—and he might have tied them differently without thinking. But some instinct told him that wasn’t the case.

Someone else had read them, which meant they’d also likely read his father’s memoir notes. It also meant the secret passage was no longer quite so secret.

Chapter Fourteen

A few hours later, Alastair found himself standing in the darkened library, directing a harshly focused gaze out the window, across the silent garden, to the line of houses that stood on Curzon Street.

For good or ill, he’d joined forces with the Turners. Though disturbed at the thought of handing over every bit of the information he’d taken months to acquire, he hoped it had been the right decision. His notes and such were probably better off with Turner now that someone else had found them. And the secret passage.

Could it be one of the brotherhood? Had they somehow discovered his ruse and turned his investigative efforts back on him? Had they sent someone to search his house?

He rather doubted it but couldn’t discount it completely.

One of his servants, then?

He didn’t like to think a member of his household would have snooped with such intent and focus as to stumble across a hidden passage, but he had to consider it a possibility.

As he stood there, staring into the night with his thoughts, he detected a faint, barely perceptible movement in the shadows of the mews not far beyond his garden gate. Someone was out there. Coming on the heels of his recent discovery, the sight wasn’t as great a surprise as it should’ve been. Anticipation coursed through his blood.

On instinct and without a second thought, he left the library and exited the house. He crept silently through the garden toward the gate opening to the mews. Then he paused and searched along the darkened lane for another hint of movement.

There. Not far up ahead.

Alastair followed the silent figure at a significant distance, making sure to keep them in his sight while ensuring he gave no cause for them to suspect they were being followed.

Whoever it was, they were small in stature, wore black from head to toe, and were almost unnaturally agile. They also appeared to know exactly where they were going. Seeming to prioritize stealth over speed, they darted swiftly through the shadows one moment, then paused for long periods in the next, assumedly to listen and observe for anyone else who might be out and about in the middle of the night.

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