Chapter Sixteen
C hapter S ixteen
H unter wasn't usually uneasy in his sister's house or company, but today, all he felt was discomfort.
Not about his sister or her husband, nor about the situation all of them were in at the moment.
It was entirely about the fact that Lucy was sitting in a room with his sister, and Hal had forbidden Hunter from being present while they worked.
She hadn't explained why he couldn't be present for the drawing of Mr. Allred, only insisted that it would be better if Lucy spoke with her privately while they worked, and that no one else was present to influence her thoughts or images of her father.
Hunter didn't understand how him being in the room would affect how Lucy pictured the father she'd known her entire life, but his sister would brook no opposition.
So he was out in the corridor pacing instead. Not directly in front of the door, but along the entire length of the corridor. He might slow his steps in front of the door to Hal's studio to try and hear what was being said, but Hal knew better and had set up their drawing far enough away to avoid eavesdropping.
He cursed himself for allowing her studio to be such a large space. It had technically been the house's expansive library when they'd set her up, which had been an exciting prospect for them both. So much space and references to hand in the same room—perfect for the way her mind worked and the sort of art she loved best.
Why hadn't he seen then that it would work against him someday?
Most things involving his sister usually came back to haunt him.
By his calculations, they had been in there for twenty minutes so far. It took Hal roughly thirty minutes to accomplish a passable likeness unless the person's memory was poor or affected. If she followed her usual pattern, she would then ask Lucy to take a break and read a book or take a walk, something to shift her mindset and her thoughts, before having her back into the room at least an hour later. For those with more complicated schedules, she'd have them return another day at their convenience.
Hunter couldn't risk bringing Lucy back here on another day, more for his sake than her own, so they'd remain here as long as Hal needed for an accurate likeness to be completed, both to her satisfaction and Lucy's. It would probably give Lucy some comfort to be in a stable, clean environment with people of a certain quality for a time. Tilda's was all well and good, but it was a world unto itself. Hal and John at least lived in some semblance of the real world, as well as a world that Lucy would recognize.
And Hunter wanted to stay a while as well. He missed his sister from time to time, and there was no one who understood him in quite the same way.
He'd met other sets of twins who felt the same way about their sibling, and some of whom had a truly deep connection that could not be explained. A sense of knowing what the other was thinking or experiencing without being in their vicinity, or feeling an echo of the same themselves. Hunter couldn't go that far with Hal, but they were each able to see beneath the surface of the other with surprising accuracy.
Which shouldn't surprise him, given how his twin did everything with accuracy.
He should be perfectly comfortable with Lucy being in his sister's company. Who could he trust more? And he did not for one second believe that Lucy was in danger or would compromise him. He did worry that Hal might tell Lucy too much about himself, particularly about the childhood and youth they had passed, which would mean she would tell him about their relationship, which would allow Lucy to know him on a personal level.
But mostly, he was just uncomfortable with Lucy being out of his sight.
He'd been dealing with this the entire night during his patrol, leaving him more distracted than he ought to have been in a potentially dangerous situation, but there had been nothing he could do about it. He'd tried every single mental trick he'd ever built up for himself, but not one of them had managed to keep Lucy out of his mind for more than ten minutes. It wasn't always that he was dwelling on her for pleasure either.
It was fear. Worry. Concern. Anticipation made of agitation and dread. A gnawing edge to every other emotion, as though he were already feeling guilty for something happening to her while she was in his care. There was no proof that anything would go wrong, nothing to hint that those who'd abducted her would try again, and he had taken necessary precautions to protect her. But still, he feared whatever would happen to her next.
Only when she was in his sight did he feel that panic ease. Did that edge disappear. Did his thoughts run smoothly.
Perhaps it was the nature of having someone in his custody when he had never been so saddled. Perhaps it was that he knew how shocking his world could be to someone as sheltered as Lucy. Perhaps it was that she had already been the victim of an abduction attempt, and without his intervention, she could have suffered untold injuries and indignities. Perhaps it was that she was a teacher at the Convent—one of the few who had no idea of its true purpose as an operative training facility.
It could have been any number of things that provoked this response in him, but there was something else nagging at him. Something difficult to define and intimidating to explore. Something that was all of those reasons and yet none of them entirely.
He was the one responsible for Lucy, and he didn't know what had prompted the abduction attempt. He didn't know what danger lurked for Lucy without him. And the more time he spent with her, the more dreadful that unknown danger became.
He did not like that they could not find Lucy's father, and he very much did not like that there was no one looking for her. Good manners and common sense told him there was a chance that her father was in danger as well, but real-world experience told him that greed and dismissiveness were easy bedfellows. Mr. Allred had never been a doting father, as far as Lucy had described, but surely, he could see her as a valuable asset for himself in Society, if nothing else.
Yet here they were, hunting him when he ought to be hunting them.
Something was wrong. Until he knew what, Hunter could not—and would not—be comfortable with Lucy out of his sight.
"I have never seen you like this."
Hunter looked over at his brother-in-law, leaning with surprising casualness against the wall near the stairs. "You've known me a year. That isn't surprising. I could be like this often."
John raised a brow. "Are you?"
He could lie, but what was the point in that? John was a genius and an operative of sorts. Besides, he'd be asking Hal later, and she would tell her husband everything she could.
Hunter shook his head, clasping his hands behind his back and continuing to pace. "All of this is a puzzle, Sphinx. And puzzles have never been my thing."
"Is it the sort of puzzle that might be my thing?" came the soft response.
Again, Hunter shook his head. "It is more like a game of chess, only the rest of the board is hidden from me. I must make moves without knowing where anyone else is or what danger lies before me."
"Are we talking about your assignment or your guest?"
"Don't ask stupid questions," Hunter replied without animation or energy. "I'd never be this confused about an assignment. I get all the information I need to proceed for those. No, this…" He gestured to his well-paced path. "This is all about Lucy."
John grunted a half laugh of sorts. "That raises so many questions for me."
Hunter scowled in his general direction. "You've been spending too much time with my sister. The tone says it all." He waved it off, sputtering to himself. "You don't understand."
"And your sister is somehow going to understand better?" John folded his arms and leaned forward a little, his smile too knowing. "Not bloody likely, and you know it."
Hunter did know it, but Hal was his only hope for making sense of it all.
"I don't understand," he admitted to his brother-in-law, his pacing slowing to more of a meandering speed. "I don't understand how we're in this situation, I don't understand what lies ahead of us, I don't understand why this is eating at me…"
"I may be able to help with that last one," John offered, raising his hand like an eager schoolboy.
Hunter shot him a look. "No. Not what you're thinking."
John smirked a little. "I was going to say because you're a skilled operative trained to see inconsistencies in the ordinary. What were you thinking I was thinking?"
His brother-in-law was a bare-faced liar, that's what he was thinking. But there was no point continuing to argue. Perhaps he did need to speak with John about this. It certainly couldn't hurt, and John had a very straightforward way of looking at the world and the people in it. Clarity was never his problem.
Hunter desperately needed clarity.
"I foiled an abduction attempt on Lucy," he admitted, lowering his voice, though the entire house was filled with trusted operatives who could keep a secret under the worst duress. "That's how we met and how she came into my protection. I thought she was a contact, but it turned out she was just a teacher. From you-know-where, but she is truly just a teacher."
John nodded, straightening and settling against the wall, his brow furrowed as he apparently listened.
Hunter turned on his heel, proceeding with his pacing once more. "She had no idea who would want to abduct her, nor who had been trying to. Her father had sent a carriage to bring her home for the holidays, and it was to take her to his new residence. He has retrenched, and she does not know the address, so did not realize the carriage was not going where it ought. I sent scouts throughout the area and spent the entire night looking for her father, and we came up empty. Entirely empty. Suspiciously empty."
"No one even knew the name?" John pressed, his voice filled with doubt.
"Exactly," Hunter replied, both to the question and the tone. "Not a whisper. We spent yesterday with Tilda, and I left Lucy there for the night while I saw to details of my assignment, but I kept my ears open for any sign of her father. My scouts would continue to look around, but I cannot have them too far out of their usual scope, considering…" He shrugged, dismissing the explanation with a flick of two fingers. John didn't need to know everything Hunter was involved in right now. And in fact, it would be dangerous for him to know too much of what his assignment entailed.
He ought to be used to a lack of explanation in some areas.
Hunter exhaled shortly. "Nothing last night either. Nothing this morning when I checked in with them. It's like the man doesn't exist, Sphinx. Except he must, because Lucy was going to stay with him. And I don't know why someone would go to the trouble of taking a young woman to a remote part of London to abduct her if she isn't… Well, her father is in debt and such, so there cannot be too much money to hand for a ransom."
"And clearly he isn't doing much to find her," John pointed out.
That brought Hunter to a screeching halt in his pacing. "How the devil could you know that?"
John smiled a tight, humorless smile. "I work for Bow Street. No one has put in a search for a Miss Allred. And you'd have crossed paths with someone by now if they were looking for her."
Well, that made Hunter feel a little stupid, but he supposed, in that sense, it ought to have been obvious. John was exceptionally intelligent, and puzzles of any sort were simple when he looked at them. He would have been able to see the maze of Lucy's situation for what it was with just as much ease.
Hunter heaved an exhale, feeling a remarkable amount of relief. "Right. So I'm concerned about the information that I might find, should we discover anything about her father. And what sort of situation I would be leaving her in, once I deposit her back into her usual life."
"It is not your place to protect every young woman whose family situation is less than ideal," John murmured.
A wry laugh escaped Hunter. "No, we know in the streets to leave that to Gent. And I don't want to save everyone. But Lucy…" He hissed and glanced at the still closed door. "I don't like it, Sphinx. And what I don't like sticks with me."
John made a face of consideration, staying silent for a long moment. "Well, Trick, your instincts are important and have a history of being in tune. Perhaps you should stop thinking Lucy is a distraction and listen to the instincts instead. They might tell you something."
The door to the studio opened then, silencing any further conversation between them. Lucy led the way out while Hal followed, both of them smiling in a fairly natural way. Hal's eyes darted to Hunter, and he caught the knowing flash in them that meant he would have a lot of explaining to do in a short while.
"How did it go?" John asked, saving Hunter the trouble of asking for himself. Much to the man's credit, he asked Lucy and not his wife.
Lucy shrugged very lightly. "I think well. It's interesting how much you can both remember and forget when you are intentionally focused on a person's face from memory."
John grinned, cocking his head. "How so?"
"I could remember the jowls that sag about his mouth and jaw, but it took me ten minutes to remember the color of his eyes." Lucy shook her head, laughing at herself. "It will be even more interesting to see what I can recall on the second sitting."
"Well, my wife does have amazing skills, so I have no doubt the drawing will be perfect." He shifted his attention to his wife. " Ange , would you like to take a break yourself? I can have Thad bring out luncheon. When would you like her back for the second sitting?"
Hal smiled for her husband, and the shades of adoration Hunter could see in his sister's face were something that warmed his heart. He'd always hoped to see her that happy in a marriage but hadn't dreamed she would find it. Here was the proof, and for this moment, he was perfectly content.
But it soon passed.
"Give it an hour or so," Hal suggested. "And yes, let us do luncheon. But I do require a few moments with Trick before I do that. Thad will need time to arrange it all anyway."
Hunter eyed his sister suspiciously. "Why?"
She only looped her arm through his, continuing to smile at her husband, though the smile tightened. "Go ahead and take Miss Allred down. Or give her a tour of the house. We'll only be a moment."
With surprising force, Hal yanked on Hunter's arm, hauling him out of the corridor and into her studio. She flung him into the room and shut the door behind them, not giving her husband or Lucy a chance to respond or react very much at all.
Ah, so his twin's ire was still in full force, was it? Marvelous. She was much more fun when she was like this. And she was more inclined to speak her mind, which was what he needed at this moment.
Hal's hair was far more disheveled now than it had been when she'd marched at him, and the glare she was currently spearing him with matched the frazzled state of her, charcoal on her fingers and all. Her bright blue eyes were narrowed as she stared at him and folded her arms tightly.
Then said nothing.
Hunter knew what she wanted, but he'd be damned if he gave it to her so easily. He set his hands on his hips and raised a brow at her.
She widened her eyes, leaning forward a little and using her head to gesture some sort of circle.
It did not take being a twin to understand what she was indicating, and in fact did not take much intellect either. But still, he wasn't interested in taking the silent hints. If his sister wanted to know something, she was going to have to ask him very clearly.
Now Hal used one of her hands to accompany her silent beckoning, rolling it in a circle for a moment and then holding it out palm up.
Hunter chose that moment to yawn loudly.
"You are insufferable," his sister ground out through clenched teeth, "and I hate you."
"You bloody adore me," Hunter reassured her with a bold wink. "But I am insufferable."
"As long as you're aware of it." She sniffed and closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him close. "It is so good to see you."
Chuckling, Hunter put his arms around her as well, affection and warmth filling every part of him. "It's good to see you too. You look well."
"I ought to look well," Hal grumbled. "I'm unwell every morning, so there is no chance of me putting on unfashionable weight anytime soon."
Hunter pulled back in shock, looking her over. "Are you expecting, Hank?"
Hal nodded quickly, averting her eyes even as a small smile played at her lips. "Don't tell anyone, you're the only one who knows. We haven't even told Jeremy and Helen yet."
"I won't say a word." He hugged her quickly but fiercely. "Hank, that's marvelous! John must be thrilled. Are you pleased?"
"I suppose so," she mused as she pulled back and started towards a pair of chairs in the room. "I've never really thought about having children or being a mother. But with John, I want everything and anything. Whatever comes in life with him, I want. And the idea of having his children is intriguing and appealing. I don't know that I'll feel much about it until I can start feeling the child within me. It still feels… hypothetical, in a way. Aside from the illness in the morning, but that improves with breakfast." She huffed and sat down in a chair, flopping inelegantly and giving him a hard look.
"What?" Hunter asked her as he also moved in that direction.
Hal rolled her eyes. "You're obtuse as well as insufferable. Tell me about Lucy. From the beginning, first of all, and in great detail, secondly."
Hunter chuckled, sitting and crossing one leg over the other. "Anything else?"
"Yes, I also need to know what your plan is going forward because clearly you cannot parade up and down my street with my sketches or walk into Mayfair to do so. Not in your condition." She gestured to his plain but clean ensemble.
"I'm very clean and presentable, thank you very much," Hunter retorted with a faux offended scoff. But she did have a point, and he wouldn't pretend otherwise.
So he recounted everything for her, in more detail than he had for John, and including Briar by her code name, knowing Hal had dealings with her before. He told her about the panic of the abduction and his confusion that the woman he thought was Briar was not fighting back against her foes. About the night he had spent scouring his part of London to find Lucy's father while Briar watched her at his flat. About finding no success and having to figure out what to do with Lucy himself. Spending time with Tilda and the ladies.
He barely touched on his patrol, since Hal shouldn't know much about his assignment, but he took the story up to where they were at this moment in Hal and John's home, needing a picture of Mr. Allred in order to have any hope of finding the man. At least without recruiting finer society to ask around.
And he was not going to risk Lucy's reputation by bringing her into finer society, with all of their judgments and speculation.
Hal sat fairly quietly through the telling, her brow creasing from time to time, but making no comment or noise. When Hunter finished, she just began slowly shaking her head.
"What?" he asked with a nudge of his foot against hers.
"I should be hearing her name called up and down the streets," Hal said softly. "John should have recognized her name immediately from Bow Street so we could take her home. But you still have her, which means she was brought to your side of London purposefully and it has nothing to do with her father's location. You're never going to find him in your corner, and that might have been the point."
"My scouts are going everywhere," he pointed out. "Anywhere that a Society gentleman might relocate."
Still, Hal shook her head. "In talking with Lucy, her father is ashamed of his diminished position in Society, and he won't make his address public knowledge. He won't go somewhere that others of his station might see. You're far better off looking where you are and such." She tsked loudly and wiped at one eye. "Why isn't he looking for her? That's cruel."
"I know," Hunter answered in a low voice. "I don't know why he isn't looking for her, and I don't like it. Part of me wants to leave Lucy here with you until I figure this out."
"I am not watching her like she's some kind of dog, Hunter," Hal protested hotly, swiping at the lone tear on her cheek. "Be serious."
Hunter gave her a quelling look. "I am serious. You think she's better with me? Safer with me? Where am I supposed to take her tonight? Tilda cannot host her, and she cannot stay in my flat with me. Briar is across the river, and her family is in no position to host anyone."
"She's safer with you than with anyone else," Hal shot back. "Most likely including her own father, should you ever happen to find him. You need a place for her to stay tonight where you can be as well and keep an eye on her without ruining anyone's reputation? What about that pub and inn we have connections to in Poplar? Isn't that supposed to be some sort of safe destination?"
Hunter stared at his sister with wide eyes, unsure how to respond, and when his chest would loosen from the shock of her suggestion.
She blinked at him briefly. "What? What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing," he said slowly, feeling every ounce of air coming in and out of his lungs. "You're just not supposed to know we have connections there."
Hal's smile was slow and sly. "I know. But know it I do, so let's not pretend that I don't."
"It's not the safest place I could take her," Hunter told her, sitting back and rubbing his palms together in thought. "I mean, operatives meet there, and we take targets there, good and bad. We know that we won't be compromised there, but others use the place as well, and we cannot account for the sort of people that might—"
"She's already met some of your crew," Hal overrode with impatience. "And you can sleep outside her door." She nodded to herself as though the matter were decided. "Sailors and smugglers might be there, but you will too. She'll be fine, and you can likely still do something related to your assignment in that neighborhood."
Hunter cocked his head in interest. "That's true…" He speared his sister with a suspicious look. "You don't know what I'm looking into, do you?"
Hal barked a laugh, tossing her wild hair. "Of course not. I have speculation, but no certainties. I enjoy making up scenarios for you, so kindly do not disillusion me." She cleared her throat. "Now, shall we talk about how remarkably pretty Lucy is and how that's perturbing you? Or are you roaming about the Kingdom of Denial at present?"
Ah, there it was.
Hunter pulled out his watch and examined the time, nodding in thought. "Goodness, you've been practicing your restraint. I expected that question a good seven minutes ago."
His twin ignored his quip and kept her gaze steady on him, now waiting for him to stop pretending they were not going to speak on this topic.
He supposed he had ignored it long enough.
Sitting back in his chair slowly and slumping lazily, Hunter relaxed his face and let his lips sputter. "She's utterly beautiful, Hal. I've felt like an idiot is living in my head from the moment I met her."
"Well…" Hal drawled in her way, gesturing faintly with her fingers.
Hunter gave her a scolding look. "Thank you. Anyway… I find myself slower to think and stupid in conversation. I am acutely aware of my kneecaps in her presence and can feel every inch of space between my body and hers. I've met beautiful women before and never been entirely affected like this. I hate excessive chatter, and yet I find her rambling to be charming. I hate not having my privacy, and yet I want her to be in my presence all the time. I hate not being able to do exactly as I please at any given moment, and yet I am delighted to do whatever it is she needs me to do. I've known her for two days, Hank. Two bloody days, and my entire life is in shambles."
"Aww," his sister sighed with a whimper.
"That is not a helpful response!" Hunter cried in outrage.
"I'm sorry!" She covered her face momentarily, exhaling a slow breath before lowering her hands and assuming a more somber facade. "I'm sorry. How can I help?"
He glared her, then grumbled, "I don't know."
Hal clamped down on her lips hard, and he suspected she was fighting laughter.
Also not helpful.
He exhaled heavily. "It's not even the fact that she's among the most beautiful women I've ever seen that's the problem. Not really. It's the fact that I notice that every single time I see her. It's that I dwell on the three damn freckles by her left ear, and that I even know she has them. It's that I don't even know if I want to find her father, because that means…" He bit his tongue to stop himself from finishing the statement, though the thought continued quite easily in his mind.
Finding her father would mean he would have to let Lucy go, and he would likely never see her again.
And that made him feel absolutely ill in a way he did not care for at all.
"When did you last spend any time in a woman's company that was not for your assignments?" Hal asked him in a quiet tone that was now devoid of all mockery.
Hunter shook his head. "I couldn't say. I honestly have no idea."
She hummed very softly. "That makes it rather difficult to tell if what you are feeling is for Lucy herself or the idea of a woman in your personal life."
He winced at the suggestion and shook his head even more firmly. "I'm not feeling like I'm losing my mind to a blissful delirium because I'm lonely and need a woman's company, Hank. I concede that my personal life is singularly lacking in every respect, but I was fairly perturbed when I realized how much work would be going into helping Lucy. She was irksome. She is irksome, depending on her mood, which changes with a fluidity that feels like walking on ice."
"I like her already," Hal mused with a hint of a laugh.
"You would," Hunter assured her, patting her knee. "She's direct and frank and hasn't panicked or simpered about anything since being rescued from the abduction. She'd likely make a good operative, if Milliner is interested in training her. She doesn't long for the love and affection of her distant father and sees him clearly, yet she has no pity for herself or her situation. I… I like her, Hank. Very much."
"Yes, I believe we've already established that." She punched his shoulder lightly, chuckling to herself. "You're not used to feeling anything, and now you're feeling some of the most intense feelings that exist. Poor Hunt, are you drowning?"
He nodded without hesitation. "Drowning, flailing, sputtering, choking… It's as though no one taught me how to swim and now I'm meant to cross the Channel."
"The man has a way with words, but he ain't no poet," Hal teased, throwing a poor attempt at a common accent into her voice. Sobering, she pushed a lock of her hair behind an ear. "Take it from me, Hunter: If you are falling in love, take a breath and see if it might be worth the madness. Fighting against it out of fear or anxiety just makes everything worse. If you truly do not want it, remind yourself that you will find her father soon and she will be gone. Then you can claim it as a good experience for yourself and a lesson to be learned."
Hunter swallowed with some difficulty against his tightening throat. "And if I find that I do?"
His sister smiled and reached out a hand for his, which he took and held tightly. "Then you hold on to it with all your might, and we find a more creative way for you to fulfill your operative assignments."