Page 71 of An Unexpected Earl

He tightened his jaw. To threaten his sister to save his own hide—the more Pearce learned about the man her brother had become, the more he hated the bastard.

“You think Freddie is directly involved with them?” she asked.

A grim look from Pearce silently answered for him.

“He couldn’t be. What need would there be to blackmail him if he’s already working with them?”

“We don’t know if your brother is part of Scepter,” Merritt answered. “But we’re certain that the men he’s been appointing are. Home Office intelligence has confirmed it.”

“We also don’t know who wants them there,” Pearce added.

She faintly shook her head, putting together as best she could the new puzzle pieces they were revealing to her. “If what you’re saying is true, then surely Freddie’s not alone. A handful of men in government positions—what good could such a small number do? Perhaps there are other MPs who are being blackmailed, others who haven’t carried out their wishes, others against whom the blackmailers have actually carried out their retaliation and revealed their illegal or unethical activities.” She arched an accusing brow at Merritt. “You’re wasting your time, Mr. Rivers, by taking me the long way around the park just to give yourself more time to interrogate me. You should be questioning Sir Charles Varnham.”

Merritt froze, caught by surprise. Most likely for the first time in his entire legal career while questioning a witness.

“Of course he won’t be able to give you answers outright. He either isn’t aware of the connections and so won’t know what information to provide you, or he’s working with the blackmailers himself and so won’t cooperate. But whoever’s been blackmailing my brother has the man’s trust.” She turned back toward the window. “So I think it might be worth investigating him, don’t you?”

Pearce bit back a laugh at that sharp mind of hers. He would have admired her for it, if she didn’t frustrate the daylights out of him.

“We’ll keep a close eye on Varnham,” Pearce assured her, “and if he has any contact with Scepter, we’ll find out.”

“You’ll let me know what you discover?”

“Ifyou promise to stay away from him.”

The little minx had the nerve to look offended.

“I mean it, Amelia.” She might not believe they had a future together, but he did. And he damned well planned on protecting her, whether she liked it or not. “You could have been seriously injured tonight when those men attacked your carriage.”Or killed.He didn’t dare put that into words.

“It was a small disturbance in the streets, that’s all, and footpads who tried to take advantage after we left the carriage.” She gestured at the city around them. “Uprisings have been happening all the time lately, all over London. Sir Charles couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with it. For heaven’s sake, he wasn’t even at the Black Ball tonight to see me leave.”

He didn’t need to be, if other men were watching her. If other men thought she was a threat to their plans. “Stay away from Varnham,” he warned. “I don’t want you to have any contact with him whatsoever. If he is connected to Scepter, then he won’t hesitate to silence you.”

Her eyes gleamed in the shadows as brightly as jewels. “All right. I’ll leave him alone.”

The carriage stopped. They’d reached her shop.

The Bouquet Boutique was locked up tight against the night, but Amelia would be able to change into a clean dress here before he and Merritt took her home. After all, she couldn’t go breezing into the town house looking like this. It was one thing for her to be able to explain why she’d arrived home so late, with excuses at the ready—a late-night visit to the shop, an emergency with one of the women she employed—but it was something altogether different to arrive home late in an army-issued greatcoat over a wet, ruined dress that smelled of the Thames and sour ale.

Even her self-absorbed nodcock of a brother would demand answers, if only out of concern for his own reputation.

When she rose to leave the carriage, Pearce placed a hand on her forearm. She flinched, her gaze dropping to his fingers as if he’d scorched her.

Damn it to hell.She used to crave his nearness, used to find reassurance in his touch. Now she wanted him as far away from her as possible.

Except that she didn’t. Because under his fingertips at her wrist, he felt her pulse racing. He took hope in that.

“Merritt and I have to wait here,” he instructed. “You can’t risk that we’ll be seen entering the shop with you.”

“I understand.” There was no anger in her reply, only regret. A world of private meaning lived in her voice when she assured him quietly, “I’ll be fine on my own.”

He released her, and her arm slipped from his grasp. She stepped down onto the footpath. Pearce watched through the window as she hurried through the shadows to the door.

“There was no riot tonight,” Merritt said quietly. “Those men purposefully targeted her carriage. You know that.”

Yes. But Pearce hadn’t wanted to terrify Amelia by telling her. “She confronted her brother tonight about the trust, told him she wouldn’t support it. Right there in the ballroom,” he said quietly. “I think someone overheard and wanted to threaten her into changing her mind.”

“Did it work?”