Page 69 of Tender Blackguard

“Yes, I do. You need irrefutable proof of their crimes. To get that, you must attend this upcoming sale, where you will finally have access to their operation. You said it yourself...you won’t be allowed past their door without me.”

“Absolutely not.” This time, the words were shouted.

Lark forced herself to remain seated while the marquess turned to the fireplace and locked his hands behind his back. She looked again to Turner, hoping he might have something to say. But he simply stared back at her, his expression utterly neutral. Hale was even less helpful as he appeared to be watching the whole argument as some sort of entertainment.

With a frown, she returned her attention to the marquess. “You may not be able to stop me.”

Warfield spun back to face her, his features hard as stone, his gaze sharp and fierce. “What does that mean?”

Lark took a breath. “It means I’ll go on my own if I have to. You see, I happen to know the address where this exclusive little party is going to take place. I will slip past the guards and get inside that building with or without you.”

The icy fury that shone from his pale gaze sent a sharp shiver down her spine and nearly froze her heart. Then he abruptly slid his gaze to Turner. “Could she do this?”

Lark was thankful he replied without hesitating. “Easily.”

The depth of the marquess’s stare reached straight to the center of her soul. Her heart ached for the turmoil she sensed in him. It was clear he hated the idea of putting her in danger, but he couldn’t turn away from the opportunity to finally achieve the justice and vengeance he’d been craving.

“Well, that decides it, I suppose,” he muttered sharply. “I don’t doubt for a second you’ll do as you threaten, and I’d rather have you with me than on your own.”

Turner spoke then in a tone of reason and assurance. “Trust me, my lord. We’ll have securities of our own in place.” He glanced at Hale. “Hale and I’ll start on it tonight. There’s a magistrate I’ve worked with a time or two who’s proved himself to be a man who holds his responsibility to justice above any form of bribery or threat. We present him with solid evidence of a crime, he’ll ensure these men are properly punished under the laws of England.”

The marquess was quiet for a moment as he focused solely on Lark. Then he said, “We’ve got only two days to plan this down to the tiniest detail. I won’t leave a single thing up to chance. If you’re to be a part of this,” he added for her alone, “you’ll do as I say and only as I say.”

Lark nodded her agreement, feeling no regret at all for the lie.

Chapter Twenty-three

After they talked through a tentative plan and set up an intention to meet again the next day, the marquess saw his guests to the door while Lark slipped back into the passage to avoid having her presence at their meeting noted by any of the other servants.

They’d spent more than an hour discussing possible concerns while going through the expectations allowed by their limited knowledge of what they’d be facing. Throughout that time, Lark had felt a heavy weight of fear and worry growing inside her. It wasn’t concern for her safety that had her ill at ease. She was confident in her abilities even if the marquess couldn’t fully accept her choice to put herself in the thick of things. What truly bothered her as she went about her day was knowing how difficult their charade would be for the marquess.

Though he was fiercely determined to avenge his mother and see justice prevail against the men responsible for so many ruined lives, she knew what it cost him to act as though he were one of them. She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to her in her room. The raw torment in his voice when he’d said he didn’t want to be like his father. Despite all evidence proving he was nothing like the prior marquess, it was clear he truly believed his father’s sins had been passed on to him. His mother’s hatred and vitriol had certainly contributed to such a belief and the shame he carried with him every day.

Using her in such a way—delivering her right into the mouth of the beast—was likely to cause significant torment. Despite assurances, he feared for her. But she believed he also feared for himself. Feared that in acting like his father—in essentially taking his place within the brotherhood—he’d be one step closer to becoming him.

It wasn’t true. Could never be true. And she had to convince him of it. Before they went any further.

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