Page 98 of Gone with the Rake

She had to go back to London. Had to strike a deal. If she convinced the marquess that she could find the locket—

“So it was you,” Art said suddenly.

Lydia looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“The locket. It was stolen right under our noses while we were in Rivendale estate. I should have known it was you when you revealed you saw me there.”

“Y-yes.” Lydia hesitated. Something about his expression gave her pause.

“Rivendale was raving mad that night. He’d alienated his closest friends and family that night, accusing everyone.”

“I-I… I didn’t mean for it—”

He raised his hand up sharply. “You couldn’t have known. But if Rivendale was willing to burn bridges for this locket with his closest kin… He won’t hesitate to burn you at the stake.”

“Can he do that?”

Art let out a deep breath. “He is a powerful marquess. His title is older, richer… but I am a marquess now too, his equal. He won’t hurt me. That’s why I am going to go to London by myself. I am going to have to hide you until I get back. Perhaps you can go to my sister’s… or… do your relatives still live in Penrith?”

Lydia shook her head. “They had passed away. Art, what are you talking about?”

“I will do my best to protect you, Lydia. But when I go to confront him, I can’t… I can’t leave you here alone, and I can’t take you to London with me. He can’t hurt me, Lydia. But he can—”

“Perhaps not physically,” she cut in, “but he can ruin you, Art. Even more than you already are. You don’t have a penny to your name. You have an estate to run, a title to uphold. You can’t risk it.”

He shrugged. “That doesn’t scare me one whit.”

“Then what does scare you?” she cried. “Because—”

“Losing you!” Art turned away in agitation, running his fingers through his hair. “What scares me most is losing you. I don’t think I can survive it again.”

Tears burned at the back of Lydia’s eyes. “And don’t you think I feel the same?” she whispered. “Don’t you think I want to protect you? We can weather this. Just like you said—together.”

“How?” he demanded.

She hesitated—then squared her shoulders. “We can go to London—”

“Out of the question.” His voice was sharp. “The only way you’re leaving this estate is if you’re going into hiding. Otherwise, you stay here, where you’re safe. Under my protection. I will confront Rivendale. I will strike a deal—”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “If you go to Rivendale, then I will be by your side.”

“Then you’ll still be in danger.”

“At least we’ll be together. If only for a moment longer.”

Art chewed on his lower lip, deep in thought. Lydia would not let him go alone.

But she could come up with a plan.

Perhaps she could convince Rivendale that Art knew nothing of her past—that he truly believed she was innocent.

Perhaps the marquess would accept her surrender.

No.

Art would never agree to that.

Maybe she could contact Miss Monroe again. The woman had ties to all kinds of underground dealings.