“I always will.” He placed his hand over hers, and then turned to escort her to her room. Since their mother had passed on and their father withdrew emotionally, Elizabeth had been all he’d had for most of his life. She’d been his only emotional connection during the time before Margaret when he’d been determined never to fall in love and risk the same misery as their father.
As they neared her room, his nose reminded him of the organic eruption that awaited them. “Why didn’t you tell me Westfield was harassing you? I would have dealt with him.”
“No!”
Her abrupt cry gave him pause, the fierce protectiveness he’d always felt for her rearing up in suspicion. “Tell me you are not encouraging him.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Haven’t we had this discussion before?”
Closing his eyes, William released a deep breath and prayed for patience. “If you assure me that you will come to me for assistance if you have a need, I will refrain from asking you questions you don’t want to answer.” He opened his eyes and looked down at her, frowning at the sight of the high color of her skin and glazed eyes. She didn’t look well at all. And her hair was disheveled. The last time her hair had looked like that …
“Have you gone racing again?” he barked. “Did you take a groom with you? Good God, what if you were thrown—”
“William.” Elizabeth laughed. “Go see to Margaret. I’m tired. If you insist on interrogating me, you can do so once I’ve rested.”
“I am not interrogating you. I just know you well. You are stubborn to a fault and refuse to listen to good sense.”
“Says the man who worked for Lord Eldridge.”
William released a frustrated breath, recognizing from her sudden rigid tone that she was finished talking. All well and good. He intended to manage Marcus on his own terms anyway. “Very well. Find me later.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “If you still look flushed when you wake, I’m sending for the doctor.”
“Yes, yes.” Elizabeth shooed him away.
William went, but his concern would not be dismissed so easily, and they both knew it.
Elizabeth waited in the hallway just outside the office of Lord Nicholas Eldridge, pleased with herself for having snuck out of the house while William was occupied. Because she arrived unannounced, she anticipated cooling her heels. To his credit, Eldridge did not keep her waiting long.
“Lady Hawthorne,” he greeted her in what she imagined to be a customarily distracted manner. Rounding the desk, he gestured to her to have a seat. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Though the words were polite, the tone held an undercurrent of impatience. He resumed his seat and arched a brow.
She’d forgotten how austere he was, how serious. Yet despite the drabness of his attire and the gray of his wig, his presence was arresting. He bore the weight of his power with consummate ease.
“I apologize, Lord Eldridge, for the importunate nature of my visit. I’ve come to offer you a trade.”
Gray eyes assessed her sharply. “A trade?”
“I would prefer to work with another agent.”
He blinked. “And what are you offering in return?”
“Hawthorne’s journal.”
“I see.” He leaned back in his chair. “Has Lord Westfield done something in particular, Lady Hawthorne, which would cause you to seek his replacement?”
She could not prevent her blush. Lord Eldridge pounced on the telltale sign immediately. “Has he approached you in some manner that would not befit his duties? I would take such an accusation seriously.”
Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably. She did not want Marcus reprimanded, simply removed from her life.
“Lady Hawthorne. This is a personal matter, is it not?”
She nodded.
“I had valid reasons for assigning Lord Westfield to you.”
“I’m certain you did. However, I cannot continue to work with him, regardless of your motives. My brother is growing suspicious.” That was not her only reason, but it would suffice.
“I see,” he murmured. He remained silent for a long time, but she did not waver under his intimidating scrutiny. “Your husband was a valuable member of my team. Losing him and your brother has been difficult. Lord Westfield has done an excellent job of shouldering a great deal of responsibility despite the demands of his title. He is truly the best man for this assignment.”
“I don’t doubt his ability.”
“Still, you are determined, are you not?” He sighed when she nodded. “I will consider your request.”
Elizabeth nodded, understanding he had conceded as much as he was going to. Standing, she smiled grimly at his assessing gaze. He escorted her to the door, pausing a moment before turning the knob.
“It is not my place, Lady Hawthorne, but I feel I should point out to you that Lord Westfield is a good man. I am aware of your history, and I’m certain the ramifications are uncomfortable. However, he is genuinely concerned for your safety. Whatever happens, please keep that in mind.”
Elizabeth studied Lord Eldridge silently, and then nodded. There was something else, something he was not telling her. Not that she was surprised. In her experience, agents were always tight-lipped, sharing little of themselves with others. She was greatly relieved when he opened the door and allowed her to escape. While she held no ill will toward Eldridge, she nevertheless looked forward to the day when he and his damned agency were no longer a part of her life.
Marcus entered the offices of Lord Eldridge just before ten in the evening. The summons had arrived just as he prepared to depart for the Dunsmore musicale. While he was impatient to see Elizabeth, he had some thoughts to share about the investigation and this unexpected audience was highly opportune.
Marcus adjusted his tails and dropped into the nearest chair.
“Lady Hawthorne came to see me this afternoon.”
“Did she?” Settled, Marcus took a pinch of snuff.
Eldridge continued to work without looking up, the papers before him lit by the candelabra on his desk and the shifting glow from the nearby fireplace. “She offered Viscount Hawthorne’s journal in exchange for removing you from your duties.”
The enameled snuff box snapped shut decisively.
With a sigh, Eldridge set aside his quill. “She was adamant about it, Westfield, even threatening to become uncooperative if I refused her.”
“I’m certain she was most persuasive.” Shaking his head, he asked, “What do you intend to do?”
“I told her I would look into it, and so I have. The question is—what do you intend to do?”
“Leave her to me. I was on my way to her when I received your summons.”