reclined back, a sly smile peaking over the rim of his glass. ‘I know who the gunman is.’
Gabriel put his fork down and leaned forward. ‘How?’
‘Do you not want to know how I reasoned it out?’
‘I fear I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?’
‘Not if you want that name. What has ruffled your feathers this morning?’
‘I’m unruffled, now talk.’
Hart studied him and took another sip of brandy. ‘It was a good thing Andrew mentioned the man’s accent when he showed me that note.’
‘His accent?’
‘Yes, he said he recognised it from his time near Manchester. Using that bit of information, I took a trip by the river to the Black Swan. Many of its patrons hail from up north. I simply asked a lively lass of my acquaintance who is a barmaid there if she would take a look at him for me. I was pleased to discover that she did indeed know the man.’ He took another slow sip, savouring his drink. ‘She also found identifying a prisoner quite exciting. So for that, I thank you.’
‘You took someone to the Tower without my consent?’ Gabriel tried to relax his fist.
Hart waved his hand casually in the air, which was all the more infuriating. ‘Apologies...deep regret...whatever it is you need to hear. But be aware I did not exactly have the opportunity to contact you at the time.’
‘And how did you explain your need to identify the man, and why he was being held in the Tower?’
‘I told her he attempted to rob me. She believed it, saying he was an unsavoury fellow who was known to annoy the patrons with talk of his disgust of the monarchy and those that serve it. And we played a game of sorts. She was blindfolded for our journey. I never told her we were in the Tower.’ Hart removed a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his black waistcoat and slid it towards Gabriel. ‘Here. That is his name, an area of town and information about the man’s family, because I am that good at what I do.’
Maybe now they would finally get some answers. Without opening it, Gabriel tapped his finger on the folded paper. ‘So maybe you are as good as you think you are.’
‘I will attempt to ignore the surprise in your voice.’
‘Had anyone at the Tower overheard the information your barmaid gave you?’
Hart shook his head and surveyed Gabriel’s breakfast. ‘I thought it best to gather all the details while she and I were alone.’
‘Hopefully there is useful information about his family to finally force him to talk. Andrew has been observing the interrogations. He informs me the man has a high threshold for pain.’
‘He will break sooner or later. How is our illustrious friend faring?’
Knowing how restless Prinny could be, Gabriel assumed he wasn’t handling his confinement well. ‘I am sure he can use a good card game or two to lift his spirits.’
‘I imagine I can spare some time. Unless you have something else you need me to do. Shine your boots?’
‘From the state of those Hessians, I believe I will continue to have Hodges tend to my boots.’
‘Some day you’ll have to remind me how I became involved with the lot of you and why I continue to remain.’
‘My father had said he asked for your assistance because you were cunning and had a greatness inside of you that you weren’t aware of. If you decided to end this association of ours, I assure you that you would be quite bored.’
‘You’re probably right, but I have a feeling I am not the only one who lives for excitement.’
* * *
When Gabriel returned home that evening, having more excitement in his life was the last thing on his mind. As he handed over his hat, gloves and walking stick, he noted the sound of laughter drifting into the entrance hall from somewhere else in the house. He raised a questioning brow to his butler.
Bennett cleared his throat. ‘It is Wednesday,’ he said as a way of explanation.
How could he have forgotten? It was the one day of the week that he and Olivia had agreed she could entertain at home and he would stay out. It had been a long time since he had been in his London residence this early on a Wednesday evening. All this pressure of finding out who was behind the assassination attempt must have caused the normal function of his brain to shut down.
He would go to his study and have a dinner tray sent there. But as he stepped down the hall, a distinct deep male laugh could be heard coming from the private dining room a few doors away. Gabriel moved to the open doorway and peered inside.
His wife was seated at the head of the table, with Andrew to her right. They were leaning close to one another, deep in what appeared to be congenial conversation. It was the very picture of a warm family moment, something Gabriel had not experienced with his wife in many years.
He had never looked to marry for love. Love was a bunch of sentimental drivel some of his classmates at Cambridge would drone on about, usually referring to a local girl who could lead them around by their passions. Thank goodness he and Olivia had been sensible enough not to seek that in a marriage. They’d had a comfortable friendship based on a mutual respect for each other’s opinions and interests. That, and the fact that he’d wanted to sink deep inside of her from the moment he saw her, told him this was the woman he needed to marry. She had been the ideal wife for him, until his responsibilities got in the way.
Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her smile widen at something Andrew said. That dimple that he hadn’t seen in ages graced her cheek and the urge to interrupt the quaint domestic scene overtook him.
‘I was unaware you would be dining here tonight,’ he called out, crossing his arms.
Olivia’s startled expression was a contrast to Andrew’s friendly greeting. Approaching her side, Gabriel raised an inquisitive brow at his brother while he snatched a grape off his wife’s plate.
She watched him bring it to his lips. ‘I didn’t expect you to be home.’
It was the first thing she had said to him since he’d stormed out of her room the night before. He was surprised by her attempt at civility, but then again, they were not alone.
‘It is my house,’ he replied, taking another grape. There were so many emotions running through him that it was difficult to grab on to one. His only thought was to wonder for the first time what exactly happened in his house on Wednesday evenings.
‘Would you care to join us?’ she asked, sounding as if she was chewing on glass.
Gabriel took a seat to her left instead of his customary chair, which was down the table across from hers. She ran her gaze over him with a wrinkled brow and Gabriel refused to consider why he felt an odd desire to stay near the warm sense of companionship. He motioned for a glass of claret from his footman. ‘So, what had you both so entertained when I walked in?’
Andrew shrugged and looked to Olivia. Gabriel raised his brows, waiting for her response, plucking yet another
