“How do you keep all of that in your head?” Lily asked, shaking hers. Then she frowned again, tilting her head as though trying to shake loose a thought. “Jones? Any relation totheCaptain Nathan Jones?”
Josie sat up straight, her mouth dropping open. She had not put the two together when Lily had said the Talbot estate.
“Yes, that is him. But he works for Uncle Oliver!” Her gaze flitted between her three friends, looking for their reactions, but they all seemed as struck and worried as she was. “He is Elijah’s friend, and he was a captain in the army. He cannot be a traitor… can he?”
Lily shook her head, more in denial of the idea than an actual firm rejection. Pressing her lips together, Evie looked away unhappily.
“The traitor must either be someone close to the family or has someone close to the family feeding him information,” Mary said. She appeared even paler than normal. Captain Jones had been one of the men who had been with Elijah and Rex when she had been kidnapped, and Josie and Lily had come running to fetch Rex. Had he orchestrated the whole thing? “Otherwise, how would he have known to set up Josie with a letter from Joseph? Captain Jones would be perfectly situated.”
“We do not even know if there is any connection to what is going on and the Talbot estates,” Josie argued. Blast it. She liked the man, and she trusted her intuition, which said he was not a traitor. “It could be coincidence.”
“It could be,” Evie agreed, pressing her lips together. “But we cannot know for sure without investigating, and we all know my uncle and cousin will not think to look closely at him. They trust him, and they have a tendency to believe they are infallible.”
“Does this mean you will be going to the Talbot estates when the Season ends?” Josie asked, holding back her disappointment. Lily and Mary looked disappointed as well since they would not be able to join Evie on her adventures, either.
“Perhaps. We shall see.” Evie shook her head. “I will make no firm plans as of yet. There are still a few more weeks in the Season, and I would like to see Joseph and Miss Bliss be married.”
“Will you have a meeting with her in the retiring room, too?” Josie quipped, making them all laugh. Joking and talking with her friends had made her feel so much better, even though they had moved off the topic of Elijah and the Society.
Remembering there was a traitor and lives in danger put everything else into perspective. Somehow, she would figure out how to deal with Elijah.
Chapter 21
Elijah
Walking through the streets in the Warrens toward the more respectable areas of London, Elijah was deep in thought. After visiting the Tramp’s Den, as well as several other gaming hells, he did not know any more than he had before. On the other hand, he was not exactly a known quantity in the Warrens. Adam was the one who had cultivated the reputation as a gambler, playing the part of the rakish, ne’er-do-well third son. As the heir, Elijah had purposefully gone in the opposite direction. The roles had served them well, but it chafed that Mitchell and Adam had been more successful in their investigations.
This was also the first night he had not gone to Josie’s bed, and he could not stop wondering what she was thinking and whether he was taking the right tack. His mind should be focused on the mission and the traitor, but his thoughts kept shuttling back and forth.
He did not have equal time to catch a traitor and win his wife’s heart, especially considering her heart had been taken when he married her. Something he had forgotten when he seduced her their first night and later when he punished her at Lady Greywood’s. After Joseph had announced his engagement, Elijah had continued to go to her bed, but he had quickly discovered having her body and her eager willingness for pleasure did not soothe him. If anything, it made him feel more savage.
Yes, she was willing, but what did thatmean? Was she doing her wifely duties? Was she addicted to the pleasure he gave her? Did she have any feelings for him beyond wanting the pleasure he could give her?
Unfortunately, that last question was the one he felt the least secure about the answer.
Josie could be a dutiful daughter when she wanted to be, but she was not quiet if she did not like her duties. Overall, she had settled into the household very nicely. The servants all liked her, Mrs. Brandon was happy with her, and she was shaping up to be everything a future Marchioness would need to be.
She did love the pleasure—and the pain, though he had been gentler with her since the night at Lady Greywood’s, giving her time to adjust, a few swats to her pert bottom here and there, a pinch and twist of her nipples to make her gasp and whimper. He would happily work her up to more soon, but it was not something for every night.
Beyond that? Josie was a hedonistic little thing. She loved horseback riding, dancing, long walks in the country—she was happiest when active and enjoying herself—but she could enjoy those activities with most people. There were very few people she disliked and had never indicated any partiality on her part—other than she thought Elijah was a stuffy prig, and she had never preferred to do any of those things with him.
Somehow, that had translated to a passion in the bedroom—luckily for them, given the circumstances—but Elijah did not want to fool himself. Josie might very well be happy with any bloke who could bring her to climax. She liked people. All sorts of people, and even when they had been at their most combative, she had still liked him. She had threatened to find another man at Lady Greywood’s, which only seemed to confirm that worry.
He was so lost in thought, he almost missed the footsteps coming up behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he half-shouted and turned, twisting and falling to the ground to avoid the gleaming knife headed for his back. His attacker made no sound as they stumbled, caught off balance when the swing did not make its target.
Rather than jumping to his feet, as his instinct wanted, Elijah kicked out and caught his attacker’s legs, sweeping them out from under him. The man went down, uttering a low curse. Another shadow separated from the darkness near them, also armed with a knife. Elijah bared his teeth, pressed the button just under the carved handle of his cane, pulled the blade out, and met the second attacker.
The dim lights in the Warren did not make it easy on any of them. The second man cursed—not as quietly as the first had—when Elijah met knife with swordstick. The clatter of metal in the streets would have drawn attention anywhere else, but not here. Anyone within hearing would scatter and wait until a victor emerged and left. Only then would they come to see if there was a body to loot.
Elijah did not intend for it to be his body, but it was two against one, and his first attacker was already getting to his feet. Distracted by the movement, he did not keep his guard up, and the second man’s knife sliced through his coat, biting into his left arm and making him hiss from the stinging pain.
He parried the next stroke, forcing the other man back and giving him the space to turn. His back was against the wall of the building beside him, giving him cover, so they could not come at him from the back and the front together. It also gave him just enough breathing room to give his attackers a good look.
They were both the usual Warren ruffian, the kind that could be hired for coin to do just about anything. Both of them sneered at him, one fair and one dark-haired, big men with broad shoulders and big guts. Even in the dim light, Elijah could see the dark-haired one had the cabbage ears common among boxers. Neither of them would be easy to take down, but he would keep a special eye on that one, who was likely as deadly with his fists as he was with his knife. Elijah’s one advantage was his swordstick had a longer reach than either of their knives.
“Did someone send you?” he asked harshly, not expecting an answer but asking, anyway. Stranger things had happened. “Hire you?”
The fair one shook his head in seeming disbelief.