“Percy was right. The blood of a monster flows in my son’s veins. It’s making him do terrible things when he was such a kind and loving boy.”
Lies did that to a man.
Love was the only cure.
“May I see the miniature?” Helen said softly. “Before more innocent people die.” She paused. “We may be wrong. But we cannot know for sure until we find your son and speak to him.”
Nicholas approached the woman and touched her gently on the arm. “You have my word we will investigate this matter thoroughly.”
As if handing her son over to the gaoler, Mrs Russell gave him the picture in the brass frame. He took a deep breath before glancing at the image. The man had brown hair, much like his own, and dark brown eyes that held a permanent look of fear.
“Well?” Helen said with some impatience.
He waited for the pang of guilt to subside to better study the likeness. Laurence looked vaguely familiar, though that could have something to do with the fact they were brothers, and so he gave Helen the portrait.
She narrowed her gaze and stared intently. Then her head shot up, and her eyes met his. “Nicholas, you don’t need to flee to France. I know this man.”
An icy shiver ran over his shoulders. “You do?”
“Yes. It is Monsieur Laurent.”
* * *
The carriage turned off Piccadilly into Old Bond Street. Nicholas checked his watch beneath the lamplight, removed his arm from Helen’s shoulder, and shook her awake.
“Helen, we’re in London. It’s almost nine o’clock.”
She yawned and stretched her limbs, then glanced out of the window at the dim street. “Forgive me. I must have slept for most of the journey. I remember seeing the castle, but little else after that.”
He had not slept a wink but had spent three hours praying Laurent had returned to Wimpole Street, three hours forming a plan of attack.
“You’re exhausted.” He reached for her hand and clasped it tightly. “Neither of us has slept properly in days. Let’s hope this will all be over soon. Let’s hope Laurent hasn’t fled to France.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Why would he kill Mr Holland? Out of jealousy, do you suppose? To hurt his father?”
“We will know soon enough.”
Her eyes grew wide and fearful. “You’re going to visit Wimpole Street, aren’t you? You mean to find him tonight. Nicholas, you can’t go alone. He’s tried to kill you once and will most certainly try again. We’ll go there now, together.”
He cupped her cheek. “No. I must do this without you.” Laurent had no scruples and wouldn’t think twice about hurting her. “I’m skilled enough to tackle three men and can overpower the valet.”
“But he is cruel and devious, and you haven’t got a wicked bone in your body. Indeed, you’re only wicked in bed.”
He grinned. “And I plan on being wicked with you later.” She had told Sebastian she would return to her family home. She had made no promises about leaving the house again. “I’ll come to the mews at midnight. Wait at the bottom of the garden, and I shall meet you there.”
“I’ll wait, but promise you will return to Fortune’s Den in the meantime.” She gripped his lapel like she meant to force him to concede. “Spend the next few hours drinking with Mr Chance, not chasing Monsieur Laurent.”
He cupped her nape and kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth and tangling instantly with hers. Lust coiled low and heavy in his loins. Love thumped wildly in his heart.
God, he could never tire of wanting her.
She broke contact with a shocked gasp. “Earlier, you kissed me with a sense of hope. Now I sense despair. Just as I did that night in Lady Brompton’s garden. You fear you won’t see me again. You fear you might die tonight.”
“Hush, love,” he said, drawing her into an embrace. “I have no intention of leaving this world. When I return later, you will receive a proper proposal.” He captured her chin, drew her gaze to his and fought to hide his unease. “I shall ask you to be my wife, not because I took your virtue, but because I am desperately in love with you and need you in my life, in my bed.”
“And I love you, which is why you must listen to me.” She glanced out of his window, her panic escalating. “No! We’ve turned into Grosvenor Street. Let me fetch Sebastian, and we will both join the hunt. He’ll be livid if you go without him.”
Nicholas released her and yanked down the blinds. He’d not have Lady Wallace spotting him from an upstairs window.