Page 44 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

“I doubt I’ll ever see the woman again,” Carson said.

“You could make it a point to.”

“You mean, if I wanted to get the Eye for myself?”

Desmond nodded. “If you ask her for it for the laboratory, she will know that I knew it, too.”

Carson eyed him for a moment. “I think it’d be safest for you to tell her the truth. But, no, I won’t seek her out. I won’t ask her about the Eye. And I won’t tell the others about her.”

“Thank you.” Desmond was flooded with relief.

“I hope you know that Gordon and Wallace won’t stop,” Carson warned.

“Good luck to them trying to locate it in that house.” Desmond turned to his work with an easier mind. He wasn’t always sure of Carson; the man was only half joking about acting in his self-interest. But this time he believed him. Even before he’d learned the story, Carson hadn’t said anything to expose Desmond’s deception to Thisbe, though he’d had ample opportunity.

Professor Gordon didn’t come in all evening, and the other two students were late, so he and Carson had worked in uninterrupted silence. Carson left before him, and Desmond soon followed. He was desperate for sleep, and he dozed off riding the omnibus, waking up only because the conductor woke him at his usual stop.

Still bleary-eyed, Desmond trudged toward his flat, paying little attention to either side of him. As he passed a narrow dark alley, a place where he normally kept a careful eye out for a footpad, a hand lashed out, grabbing him by the arm and jerking him into the mouth of the alley.

His attacker slammed Desmond against the wall, then braced his arm across his chest, leaning his weight against Desmond and putting the tip of a knife to his throat. For an instant Desmond couldn’t breathe, but he recovered and said, “If you’re wanting money, you’ve picked the wrong man.”

“I don’t want your money,” the other man growled, sticking his face close to Desmond’s. “It’s the Eye I’m after.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“THE EYE! GOOD GOD, you, too?” Desmond was now more annoyed than afraid. Clearly the man wasn’t about to slice his throat if he wanted Desmond to find the Eye for him.

“Not me. I don’t know what the bleedin’ hell it is. But I know someone who wants it bad.”

“I don’t know what it is, either,” Desmond responded, straightening from the wall and giving the man a push back. “I’ve never seen it. I don’t know anyone who has. I think the Eye is probably a figment of Mr. Wallace’s imagination. That is who you work for, correct?”

“None of your business who I work for.” The man stepped back. He still held the knife in one hand, but carelessly. “All you need to worry about is getting me that Eye.”

“I won’t. You’re wasting your time. More important, you’re wasting mine.” Desmond started around the ruffian, but the man held out an arm to block him.

“Now, wait. He’s willing to pay you. More’n he’s ever paid me, I’ll tell you.”

“Then perhaps you should get it for him.”

The man snorted. “I’m no bleedin’ housebreaker. Anyway, it’s you he wants.”

“Look. I told Gordon, and I told Mr. Wallace, and now I’ll tell you the same—I will not steal the Eye.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” The man made a fist and began to ostentatiously crack his knuckles. “People will do almost anything if they have reason enough.”

“You intend to beat me into finding it? Don’t you think it would make the Morelands a bit wary of me if I came in all black-and-blue?”

“Maybe you won’t be the one who’s black-and-blue. Have you thought of that?” The man’s eyes glittered even in the dim light from the street. “Maybe it’ll be someone else. Someone you’d hate to see hurt. Maybe that girl.”

“Thisbe?” Rage shot through Desmond. He grabbed the lapels of the man’s coat and shoved him against the opposite wall. “Don’t you dare threaten her. You touch her, and I’ll kill you.”

A mocking smile curved the other man’s lips. “That important to you, is she?”

Desmond realized he’d made a terrible mistake, letting the man know how powerful a weapon Thisbe was. “I’m not doing it.” Desmond kept his voice flat and hard. “You think you can attack a duke’s daughter and get away unscathed? You’ll be in irons before you have time to turn around.” He let go of the man’s jacket and walked past him, then swung back and added, “Mr. Wallace should remember that I could go to the police and tell them everything.”

Desmond walked away, and the thug didn’t follow. Would that threat be enough to stop Wallace? Desmond had no idea. He wouldn’t have suspected Wallace would go so far as to steal the thing, let alone try to coerce him into doing it. It was a bluff; surely, it was a bluff. If the man killed Thisbe, he would have lost his bargaining chip with Desmond. But he wouldn’t have to kill her; he might injure her to convince Desmond.

A chill ran through Desmond, and he came to a halt, his heart pounding. This, he thought, was what the dowager duchess had meant: Desmond’s love would cause Thisbe’s death.