Page 44 of A Raven's Heart

“A boxer,” Canning translated. “A prizefighter.”

Ah. That explained the broken nose.

“I went nine rounds against Gentleman Jackson, once, at Tom Belcher’s place in Holborn.” Mullaney’s chest puffed out proudly. “He gave me a right blinker that time, but I still beat him.” He chuckled at the memory. “That’s how I ended up in the army. Jackson became a recruiting sergeant. The sneaky blighter convinced me to sign up one evening after I’d had a few too many pints.”

They came to a fork in the road and Mullaney turned his horse to the right. “Nearly there, miss. The caves are just along here.”

Heloise let out a relieved sigh. If she could see the caves and get back before Raven, he’d be none the wiser. And if he happened to get back first, well, there was still nothing he could do about it, was there? What was the worst he could do? Send her home? He was going to do that, anyway.

Chapter 22

Raven returned to thepalacioin a foul mood.

He’d ventured into parts of the city few civilized people dared to go, to find someone to deliver a message to his gypsy ally Alejandro.

He’d worked with the guerilla band many times during the war, haranguing the French supply routes across the Pyrenees, and using their incredible knowledge of the terrain to ambush scouts and intercept messages. The Rom comprised a vast network of horse traders, blacksmiths, gunsmiths, innkeepers, fences, all bound by ties of blood or marriage. Alejandro himself was married to the niece of the parish priest. If anyone could help track down Kit, it was the gypsies, and Raven was seething with a restless irritation. All this inactivity was wearing on his nerves. He needed action, something to slake the rising need to punish whoever had his friend. He could feel the need for violence within him, like a dark cloud, knew he was reaching the limits of his control.

Whenever he felt like this at home he took his aggression out on one of his colleagues—usually Heloise’s brothers, if they were around. They’d spar or fence or box until his anger was tamped down to a dull roar. If they weren’t available, he did the next best thing and went to a high-class brothel and bedded some enthusiastic harlot until he was too exhausted to stand.

Unfortunately, neither of those diverting outlets was available to him right now. So his frustration and his lust were just simmering away, feeding off each other. Heloise distracted him, aroused him, and infuriated him by turns, and he needed his wits about him if he was going to find Kit. But sending her home wasn’t an option; she wouldn’t be safe until the threat to her was dealt with.

He dismounted in the stables and sought out Scovell in his study.

“Where’s Miss Hampden?”

Scovell glanced up, absently chewing the end of his pencil. “Hmm? Oh. She’s out.”

A cold prickle of premonition trickled down his spine. “What do you mean, out? Where is she?” His heart began thudding in dread. “Don’t say she’s left thepalacio.”

“Well, yes. She expressed a desire to visit the caves at Altamira. She’s with Canning and Mullaney. Expect she’ll be back soon.”

Raven took a deep breath and counted to ten.

He was going to wring her neck.

Someone should have spanked her backside for disobedience a long time ago. Unfortunately, imagining that scenario gave him an instant erection, which infuriated him even more.

The stable boy seemed quite surprised when Raven stormed back into the stables, swung up onto his horse, and kicked the stallion’s sides.

If anything happened to her…He couldn’t finish the thought. Heloise Hampden might be the most irritating woman alive, and certainly not the woman for him, but the idea of a world without her in it, somewhere, making his life a misery, was inconceivable.

He should have told her the truth, but he hadn’t wanted to scare her any more than he already had. The French agent in his garden had talked before he’d died. The little bastard had wriggled like a worm on a hook.

“Who killed Edward Lamb?” Raven had hissed.

“Let me go, m’sieur. It wasn’t me! I swear. It was the Butcher. Lavalle.”

Raven stilled at hearing that name and the worm smiled, showing a mouthful of rotten teeth. “You know of him. And you know this: If I fail, they will simply send him, in my place.” He gave a grotesque, triumphant smile. “They will keep sending men until she’s dead.”

Raven grasped his head and broke his neck.

The relief that engulfed him when he caught sight of Canning and Mullaney sitting on a rock at the cave entrance, playing dice, only fueled his fury.

The two soldiers leaped to attention and saluted.

“Where is she?” he growled, dismounting and tying his horse to a tree.

“Inside the cave, sir. Been in there a good hour already. She has a lantern, sir.”

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