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She did not want to think what that meant.

Had a ghost from her past—the wicked man who haunted her dreams—donned a disguise to continue his torment? It was not a coincidence that Cassiel insisted on dim lighting, that he conducted his seances in the dark. She felt the truth of it deep in her gut. It explained the discomfort she felt in Cassiel’s presence. Dressed as Cassiel, Mr Fairfax had touched her, laid his hand on her shoulder, gripped her knees.

Nausea roiled in her stomach.

Valentine met her gaze.

In a second, he was at her side, his strong arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“Thank you for your assistance, Lilly,” he said. “We have learnt all we need to know. But if I can ask one more question.”

“For the price you paid you can do what you like.”

“Would you happen to know if Mr Black has relatives in Frimley?”

Lilly frowned. “No, but he stayed at the coaching inn just outside Frimley. He said the rabbit stew was the best he ever tasted. Better than any of the food he had in Greece.”

Chapter Twenty

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.” Mr Drake sat back in the carriage and watched as Valentine tucked Ava’s hair into the white wig purchased from Burton’s barber and wig-making shop. “God’s teeth, the man is unstable.”

“I don’t like it, either,” Valentine replied. His fingers shook as he pulled Ava’s wig into position. He had insisted on the disguise to hide her identity.

“There is every chance Mr Fairfax had something to do with my parents’ deaths,” Ava said, noting the panic in Valentine’s eyes, the same panic that coursed through her veins, too. “He will continue to hound me unless I do something to stop him.”

It had taken the best part of the three-hour journey to convince Valentine as to the merit of her plan. In the guise of Mr Cassiel, Fairfax had met both men and would bolt for the hills as soon as he locked eyes with them. Ava was the only one who had a chance of speaking to the rogue, of luring him out of the coaching inn so that Valentine could deal with the scoundrel.

Ava knew what that meant.

Valentine would kill him.

Valentine would forever have the man’s death on his conscience. Ava loved him too much to let that happen which was why she had kept part of her plan secret.

“I intend to speak to him, to tell him we know nothing of the licence and that we cannot help him. When I storm out of the inn, he will surely follow.”

Hidden in the shadows—for darkness was already upon them—Ava had peered through the window to see Mr Fairfax seated at a round table in front of the fire. Her legs had almost buckled in shock.

“Rest assured, I shall watch your every move,” Valentine said. “Should I sense you’re in any danger, I will charge in there as if the devil is at my heels. Is that understood?”

“It is.” Ava forced a smile. “There is nothing to fear. What can he do in a room packed with patrons?”

Mr Drake shook his head. “I still don’t like it.”

“It is the best solution.”

Mr Drake narrowed his gaze as he considered her words. “Then before you go, let me tell you that you are the woman my friend has been waiting for, the one he deserves. You would die for him. I see it in your eyes.”

Mr Drake did not know how close he had come to speaking the truth. There was every chance she would lose her life tonight. But she could not think about that now.

“And she knows I would give my life for her in a heartbeat,” Valentine replied though he kept his gaze fixed on Ava.

Ava inhaled deeply before she lost courage and changed her mind. “Ten minutes is all I shall give him. Be ready and waiting in the courtyard.”

As she reached for the door, Valentine took hold of her arm and drew her around to face him.

“Close your eyes, Drake,” he said as his mouth came crashing down on hers.

He kissed her as though it might be the last time—with love, with passion, with a profound tenderness that touched her soul.


Tags: Adele Clee Avenging Lords Historical