Page 92 of Honor Unbound

My stomach twisted. Ithadbeen a breakneck race to get here, and all my nervous energy was now spent. “Don’t worry, Marie. My nephew appreciates impertinent maids.”

Marcus gave me a look that only a duke could perfect. “How did you come to this conclusion?”

“It took me too long.” I leaned against the railing. It was really quite pleasant standing on the ship. The breeze off the river was refreshing. The aroma could be improved, but after the heat spell we’d been suffering under, it could be overlooked. “I found a tin that should have been destroyed. It could have been a singular one that was left behind while its brethren were destroyed, but I think it was mislaid as the other tins were stolen. Mr. Hicks’s attitude shifted after that tin was discovered.”

“He said his fortune had changed.” The breeze caught the skirts of Marie’s gown, tangling them about her ankles.

Burton ran his hand up the back of his head. “Do you think he knew who stole them?”

“Most definitely,” I said. “I think he confronted the thief and was killed. Foolish of him. He must have known his employer was killed for the same reason. Trent was trying to warn you. He went to your house but wasn’t allowed admittance. He wrote you a note, but dying, he probably thought he wouldn’t be able to make it to your house so stumbled to mine instead.”

Marcus drew his eyebrows together. “But I thought the note was addressed to L.M. I am not addressed as Lord.”

I shoved my spectacles back up my nose. “I thought it read L. M., but there was a lot of blood. It could have been aDwith the curvy part blotted out to look like anL. D.M. Duke of Montague. Or perhaps as he was bleeding to death, his mind wasn’t functioning properly and he wroteLby mistake. Either way, I’m certain the note was for you.” It was the only thing that made sense. Or perhaps Trent had been asking me to warn my nephew. It made no matter now.

“Aunt May, you know I respect your intellect,” Marcus began.

He’d darned well better. “But?”

“But your theory is based on a lot of supposition.”

“Intuition.” Based on connecting the facts. Some of those connections might seem a bit loose, but they still formed a recognizable design.

Marcus inclined his head. “Intuition is all well and good—”

“Your Grace!” Captain Combes rushed across the deck. He held a tin aloft and pointed at the date stamped on the lid. “June 8th, 1821. We’ve only checked thirty tins or so, but more than half of them are in the date range Lady Mary referenced.”

Marcus took the tin and ran the tip of his finger along the imprinted letters stamped below the date. “T.C.C. Trent Canning Company.”

And the ship had been moments away from sailing. I loosed a breath, my body sagging against the rail.

“Tell the dockmaster we will be delayed,” Marcus directed the captain. “And get all those bloody tins off my ship.”

“Right away.” Combes strode away, calling for his first mate.

I held out my hand for the tin, and Marcus gave it to me. It was amazing that such a small thing could kill a person. “The magistrate will need to see the evidence.”

My nephew nodded. “They won’t be destroyed.”

I slid the can into my reticule. For some reason, I wanted to keep this one. A trophy of some sort. Or a reminder that I actually might have made a difference in this world.

“Aunt May, I will never doubt your intuition again.” Marcus bent and kissed my cheek. When he straightened, his face was deadly. “Now where do I find the sots who sold me these tins?”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Lady Mary

It didn’t takemuch effort to track them down. Well, not for Marcus to track them down. He did have an impressive assortment of contacts that made me quite envious, and not many people said no to a duke. That was why, with the barest of hesitation, Marie and I were allowed into the gentlemen’s club Brook’s, along with Marcus and Burton, and led to a billiards room in the far corner of the club.

Five men crowded about one of the two tables.

One of them was George Platt.

All eyes turned to us when we entered.

One of the men hopped down from his perch on the table. “We’ve been infiltrated, lads,” he said with a grin. “I don’t mind the incursion if the opposing army looks like this, however.” He sidled up to Marie, his gaze fixed on her bosom.

Burton grabbed him by his collar and yanked him backwards.