Could he convince her to have him?
He had to try.
Bennet had been gaining ground. She’d allowed him to touch her, hold her, she’d agreed to leave with him if her life was in danger.
Thankfully, she’d been safe thus far.
Tonight, he’d return to his home and gather up all his evidence, and tomorrow, he’d see the queen.
He relaxed back into his seat as the carriage rumbled on. It had been a good night.
The hack arrived at his home, and he paid the driver, tucking the crate under his arm. He placed his other hand in the pocket where he’d put his Deringer.
One had to be careful in a neighborhood such as this. Especially when carrying a small crate of what he’d guess was gold coin.
He made his way up the stairs, relieved to see no one about. But he stopped cold, halfway up the final flight of stairs. The door to his apartment was wide open. Cursing softly under his breath, he crept up the final six steps, listening for any noise, but only silence met his ears.
Silently, he bent down, setting the crate down in the corner of the landing. He couldn’t fight while holding that damn thing.
With a deep breath, he burst through the door, pointing his gun first to the left and then to the right as he looked for the perpetrators. But no one was there.
Instead, every neat belonging he’d tucked on a shelf or in the cupboard now lay on the floor, the place in complete disarray.
And most of his clothing was gone.
He cursed. It had taken a good long while to collect up proper-fitting clothing for blending into almost any situation.
He’d been robbed.
Or had the crime been more sinister? Was it coincidence that he’d found his brother’s killer and then been attacked?
Grabbing the crate from the hall, he carried it inside. Ignoring the mess, he closed the door and quickly peeled back the trim.
His breath rushed out in relief as he realized all the documents were still there. Whoever had been in his room hadn’t discovered them.
But his relief was short-lived. If the crime hadn’t been random, did that mean Rebecca was in danger?
With the crate and the envelope, he made his way straight back out the door. He needed to make certain that Rebecca was safe.
His heart pounded in his chest as he set out in the night. He’d never forgive himself if something had happened to her.
CHAPTER TEN
It tookBennet close to an hour to make his way back to Rebecca’s home, and when he did, he stared up at the dark house, the hair rising on his arms.
Something wasn’t right.
The house was dark and quiet, which shouldn’t have been odd. But he didn’t feel alone.
Making his way down the alley, he felt for the key tucked in his pocket. The night was still, and a soft rustle caught his ear as he stopped once again.
“Northampton?” a man whispered. “It’s Dillan.”
His shoulders slumped. “It’s me.” Then he started again. “Where’s Rebecca? Is she all right?”
“Fine,” Dillan answered, stepping out of the shadows. “I’ve taken her, my wife, and my sister to the Duke of Durham’s. He has enough footmen to rival even the Indian Trading Company’s army.”
Bennet stopped at the mentioned of the Trading Company. It was an unlikely coincidence that Dillan had used the name. “What happened?”