Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

H e'd spent the night rolling from side to side in his bed instead of actually sleeping after he'd dropped Cyn home.

She'd been silent, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion when finally they'd reached her town house. He'd escorted her to the door and then kissed her cheek, telling her he would return to discuss the situation further. What Leo had wanted to do was take her to her room, bathe her, and put her to bed… with him.

Lady Hyacinth Lowell was becoming a problem for Leo. He wanted her with a ferocity he'd never experienced before, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

She had her life with her children, and he… what did he have? His family and the businesses they ran, but little else. But he could not think about anything that involved a future, if there was one, until he had helped her out of the mess she was in.

Leo now knew her life was at risk, as were the others at the Phoenix Agency. The thought of anything happening to her made his veins fill with ice. He had to keep her safe .

Rising, he walked to the window. It was still early, and the sun had yet to rise fully, if it did at all. Leo detested gray days, but as he lived in London, it was something he had grown used to.

Knowing there would be no more sleep in his future, he washed and dressed. The house was silent as he left his room. Unlike the days his younger siblings woke early, they tended to lie in bed these days until someone dragged them out.

Taking the stairs down, Leo decided on a walk. It was the best time of day because he wouldn't have to converse with anyone. Solitude gave him time to think, which he knew would be focused on Cyn. The beautiful woman who had crept into his head while he wasn't looking.

He reached the front entrance. Tugging his overcoat off the hook, he slid his arms into it and began doing up the buttons.

"Going somewhere?"

He wasn't proud of the unmanly yelp that came out of his mouth, but it happened all the same. Turning, he found Mungo standing behind him, looking as he always did. Large and intimidating, but as Leo was likely the same, he did not fear the man and, if he was honest, never had.

Mungo loved the Nightingales, even if his way of showing it was to growl at them.

"I have on my coat, which would suggest I am," Leo said pleasantly.

Mungo never looked uneasy or unsettled. He was a man comfortable in his own skin, even when he was scowling.

"What's wrong, my lord?" Mungo asked.

"Leo," he sighed. "You have picked me off the floor in a drunken stupor, watched me bemoan my life while a fever made me ramble, and then watched as I attempted to pick up the shattered pieces of said life for me and my siblings. Call me Leo, for pity's sake, Mungo. "

"And succeeded," Mungo added.

"What?" Leo blinked, his hands stilling on the final button of his coat.

"You succeed at picking up the pieces of your shattered life for yourself and your siblings," he said.

Leo actually blinked. "Was that a compliment?"

Mungo frowned.

"Maybe I'm still dreaming?" Leo put his hand to his forehead to check for a fever.

"You're a good man… now," the large Scotsman said. "A leader and intelligent enough."

"No, stop." Leo raised a hand. "It's far too early to hear such exuberant compliments, especially from your mouth."

Mungo made a sound that sounded remarkably like Chester when he was annoyed.

"What happened yesterday? Miss Ellen said there was trouble."

"There was, but as yet, I'm not sure what to do about it. I'm going for a walk to think. But what I do know is the Baddon Boys have made a reappearance and their target is Lady Lowell."

Mungo was not one for large gestures, but the curl of his lips was enough of an indication that he was displeased with Leo's words.

"And what's to be done?"

"I've just said I'm not sure."

"Well, think on it, and when you have a plan, we will implement it," the Scotsman snapped.

"How do you know I will come up with a plan?"

"Because while you may act like there is a wide chasm between your ears, I know different."

"No, please, I don't think I can take any more of your exuberant compliments. "

"Be gone with you, and don't fall into trouble. I'll be fleecing you of your savings tonight," Mungo said.

They often sat down with whoever wanted to play and lost money to Mungo. He was skilled at cards and seemed to know what was in everyone's hands when no one had shown him.

"I'm quite sure I've lined your coffers enough by now."

The small tilt of Mungo's lips told Leo he was pleased with his words.

"Aye, I'm happy to take your money from you, my lord."

Leo didn't sigh, but it was close. The man would never call him just Leo.

"Well, I'm going for a walk to clear my head. I will return for a large breakfast. Please tell Bud."

"Are you having trouble sleeping, my lord?"

"No," Leo said, having no wish to get into his sleeping habits, or lack thereof, because there would be a tonic from Mr. Greedy that tasted of something vile by nightfall.

"The sun has not yet risen fully. Perhaps some food before you leave?" Mungo said.

"Do you believe I can't function without it because I'm weak or because I'm an Englishman?" Leo asked.

"I hadn't realized there was a distinction," Mungo said, moving slightly to the right. He leaned his large bulk on the wall and folded his arms. His eyes were now locked on Leo as if he was ready for a nice long chat, which he wouldn't be, as he disliked talking and only spoke the bare minimum when required. In fact, this was likely the longest conversation they'd shared in some time.

"What's amiss, my lord?"

"I've told you about the Baddon Boys."

"There's more."

"It's nothing," Leo said .

"If a'thing's true, that's nae lee."

"Which means what?" Leo demanded.

"I don't believe you."

They had been deciphering Scottish proverbs and quotes for years with very little success. Leo was sure it was a game to Mungo.

"I'm going out," Leo said firmly.

"You'll take your cane."

Leo raised it.

"Hat."

He took it off the hook by the door and slapped it on his head.

"And you'll not get into a fight because you're looking for one. I'll have your word or follow you the entire distance."

Leo, who had turned to face the door, spun back. "You say that like fighting is a favorite pastime of mine."

"In your current mood, it very well could be," Mungo said calmly.

"I thought you just said I was a good man who had succeeded in getting his life back on track?" Leo said. "You are bloody exhausting."

Mungo merely raised a brow.

"Fine, I promise," he snapped.

"Have a good walk, my lord."

"Just out of curiosity, why won't you call me Leo?"

"Because you may not see yourself as a lord, however, I do."

They stared at each other for long seconds, and then Leo turned and let himself out the door, closing it softly behind him.

He then walked down the stairs and out the gate, wondering what the hell that had meant. Mungo saw him as a lord, but what the hell did he expect him to do with that information? Deciding it was too early to find the answer, he moved his feet.

Crabbett Close was quiet; people were still slumbering, and some were enjoying their first cup of tea, no doubt. Cold air chilled his face, but it felt good. Digging in his pockets, he found some gloves and tugged them on.

"My lord, what has you out at such an hour?"

Mr. and Mrs. Greedy were standing in their small front garden, both stoop shouldered and wrapped in layers. It was always a wonder to the Nightingales they were constantly active and involved in a great many things.

"Good morning to you. I'm out for a walk," he said.

"Well now, it's a mite chilly and early for that," Mr. Greedy said. "I'll be heading back to see Clara in a few hours. Nothing is broken on the outside, my lord, but I fear there is much healing to do in her head and heart."

"I'd like to go a few rounds with who hurt her," Leo said darkly.

"Aye, as would I, were I younger. But she's in good hands," Mr. Greedy said. "Mrs. Varney will be heading over there soon. She'll check on her before I get there."

"What has you out here at such an hour after the rigors of your day yesterday, Lord Seddon?" Mrs. Greedy asked.

"I couldn't sleep," Leo said, giving in to the inquisition that was likely to follow. After all, if he didn't tell them, Mungo would.

"Did you hear that, Mrs. Greedy? He can't sleep."

"Aya, heard it clear as anything, Mr. Greedy. Lord Seddon can't sleep," Mrs. Greedy said.

The people in this street did a lot of reiterating, always using their spouse's full names and then repeating every sentence before adding on to it. It was like a continual word game that sometimes drove Leo to the point where he demanded they speak plainly .

"That's it, Mrs. Greedy," Mr. Greedy now said. "He's not sleeping."

"Well then, you all have a nice?—"

"You'll wait there, my lord. Fetch him one of those fresh-baked scones, Mrs. Greedy," Mr. Greedy said. "If a body hasn't had enough sleep, there's even more of a need for nourishment."

"Oh, no?—"

"She'll not be a trice."

Leo watched Mrs. Greedy turn and walk back to the house slower than his younger siblings did when they had to go to bed. Silently swallowing his moan, he waited for what came out of Mr. Greedy's mouth next, as surely it would be something.

"I've sent some salve to Lady Lowell's for her bruises," Mr. Greedy said. "That's a woman with plenty of spirit, that one, my lord. Few of her standing would wade into a fight."

"It's not a moment I'm likely to ever forget," Leo muttered.

"She'd make someone a fine wife," Mr. Greedy said with no subtlety, as clearly he was alluding to him being the man who should be Cyn's husband. That thought didn't terrify him as much as he thought it would.

"Indeed, she would," Leo said, looking longingly down the street to his escape.

"She's hiding, my lord, as are you."

"Pardon?"

Mr. Greedy looked him in the eye. "Inner turmoil, my lord. It can make a soul tired and force us not to live the life we were meant to."

Leo stared at the elderly man dressed in a gray sweater and brown knitted scarf as if he'd never seen him before. How had he known Leo had inner turmoil? For that matter, how had he known Cyn was like him? Was she? He didn't like to think of her hurting, because it made his chest burn.

What had made her like him? What had forced her into hiding in plain sight as Leo did every day? And why was he desperate for the answers to those questions?