Kiss of the Lyon (The Lyon's Den Book 12) by Meara Platt

Author:Meara Platt [Platt, Meara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2021-01-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Matthew approached Lady Summersby’s head butler with a look of concern furrowing his brow. “There’s someone lurking in the shrubbery outside the study. I believe the knave is trying to break in there while all the guests are occupied in the music room.”

“Thank you, my lord. I’ll get right on it.” The obviously capable servant sprang into action. He summoned several footmen, among whom were Mr. Barrow and his colleague, Mick, and warned them of a possible robbery about to take place.

Since two of the footmen were highly trained Bow Street runners, Matthew knew they would have no trouble apprehending the man and holding him in the scullery for questioning, which is precisely what they did.

Matthew joined them just long enough to quietly issue instructions. “Find out who he is working for, then have the night watch escort you to the Home Office so this man can be questioned further.”

“Aye, m’lord. You can count on us. What are you going to do in the meanwhile?” Mr. Barrow eyed him warily. “You’re not to get yourself in trouble while we’re delivering this man to the competent authorities.”

“I’ll do nothing dangerous.” He did not consider eavesdropping dangerous. With this scoundrel out of the way, Matthew now had unimpeded access to the study window to listen in on the rest of the conversation between the Haverfields and their cohorts.

The moment the man was carted away, Matthew returned outdoors and peered through the study window. He recognized the Earl of Haverfield’s voice; the underlying tone of arrogance as he spoke was unmistakable. He did not sound pleased. “I’ll have no part of this,” the earl said with a low growl. “Handing over diplomatic secrets is one thing. Who cares about these damn dispute negotiations anyway? Any truce reached will never hold. But I’ll have no part of murder.”

“Nor will I,” Lord Pim said, sounding just as angry.

The earl seemed pleased. “That’s two of us who vote nay on the plan.”

Josiah held him back when he started to walk out. “Don’t be a fool. There is no voting on the plan. We are given instructions and paid to see them through.”

“I am no man’s lackey.” The earl pushed his arm away. “Leave me be, Josiah. I want no more of this.”

“What you want is of no importance. We are in too deep. They will kill us if we refuse to do their bidding. Do you not realize this? Besides, we’re not committing murder. We are merely the facilitators.”

The earl shook him off again. “We are accessories to cold-blooded murder.”

Lord Pim heartily agreed. “I will not do it.”

“Nor will I,” the earl said. “The idea of my soiling my hands is outrageous.”

Josiah began to mop his brow with his handkerchief. “Do you not understand? We will all die unless you comply.”

The earl emitted a bark of laughter. “Who would dare set hands on me or Lord Pim? We are peers of the realm. We are untouchable.”

“You bleed just like the rest of us,” his brother shot back.

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