Morgan looked at him and even though his gut was twisting at the news that Mena had witnessed death, if there was anything good to come out of this, it was that. He didn’t want Mena alone anymore. He wanted her under his protection, in his home, surrounded by his men when she left their house.
He focused his thoughts on the issue that they had the potential to solve quickly. If they could eliminate Creed from Philomena’s life, then she was all the safer. “What have we found out about the play?”
“Nothing,” Lucas said. “No one seemed to have recognized men with Thomas, Luke, or John’s descriptions and since they are men who would easily stand out, we have to believe that they’ve no part in the play or the theatre.”
“Then why would Thomas have been humming the tune to a song that hasn’t been played for English ears before? The play has yet to debut.”
“We don’t know.” Simon stared out the window into the black night with a watchful gaze. He was often in that position, as though he could see more than what actually lay before his eyes. “Perhaps he heard it from someone, a woman he’s intimate with, someone who's connected to the theatre.”
And yet again, they had nothing.
Creed slipped through their fingers at every turn.
Silas had no more information for them and had returned to the post he’d left and was working to hire new men until they knew what to do with him.
The carriage stopped, and Morgan leaped out and ran through the door that opened before he’d fully approached.
He used his knowledge of the map to take him where he needed to go and didn’t knock before entering the last room upstairs.
Mena’s head came up and he saw her face in the lantern light. Her relieved expression settled over his heart and he closed the door behind him. The other men would wait for him to give them word and would probably use the time to become better acquainted with the house.
All Morgan wanted to do was comfort Mena.
He’d just made it to her side when the first sob broke from her lips, and he sat on the edge and gathered her close.
She was trembling, and her fingers bit into his arms. He felt her terror. It broke over him just as her every other emotion did, which raised his own anger that someone had thought to cause her pain.
“He just… died,” she choked. “I tried to lift him.” Her reddened eyes found his. “I tried to lift him like I did for you.” She started shaking her head in a way that he thought she’d never stop. “I tried to save him.”
“He was probably dead before he hit the ground,” he whispered. He placed a hand on the back of her neck to calm her. “There was nothing you could do. Don’t blame yourself.”
“But I was th-there.” She bit her lip and a wounded sound was pulled from her throat; tears continued to fall.
“It’s all right,” he told her, trying to pull her head toward him.
She fought his hand, placing her hands on his chest and shoving away. “But I was there, Morgan.” Her eyes looked up at him, pleading. “Just like I was there with you.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Just like I was there with him.”
Him.
Her father. Morgan knew she was thinking of him again.
“None of this is your fault.” He forced her closer and held the top of her blond head as another set of tears fell. He spoke through the worst of it, assuring her of her innocence. How she blamed herself for the actions of another, he didn’t know, but he let her know that she was responsible for her own actions and no one else’s. “You did a good thing, trying to give that man a coin.”
When the crying stopped again, it was abrupt, and she stiffened before leaning away. “How do you know such details?”
He touched her wet cheek. “Ralph told me.” And knowing what her next question would be, he went on, “I’ve been having you followed for your safety.”
Her eyes widened. “I was followed?”
“But not close enough.” He frowned. “They were told to stay away. You weren’t to know they were there, but I will be changing that. From now on, you will be protected at all times.”
She blinked but then nodded. “London is getting worse. I’ve never seen such rampant violence before.”
He rubbed her hair and stroked her hand around the soft golden braid that fell there. She wore a night rail, he just noticed. The material was thin and translucent. He kept his eyes on her face with great effort.
“Why do you think that is?” she asked.
Morgan shook his head. “I don’t know, but I plan to find out. Until I do, you’re safer with someone protecting you.”
She looked away, staring at her wall before nodding again. “It is better to be protected, isn’t it?” She looked at him, staring into his eyes. “You never know what might happen. I should be prepared.” She looked past him toward her dresser.
He looked as well, taking note of the powders, bottles, and letterbox before finding his own reflection in the mirror with hers beside him, though slightly out of sight. But her face was there, hidden in shadows as was his. They were silhouettes.
She placed her hand on his face. “How are you healing?”
“I’m suffered worse. This is but a scratch.” He didn’t want her to worry, but he was telling her the truth. The wound now itched more than anything else. Only when he was on his feet did it bother him. When he concentrated, its throbbing became worse, so he decided to concentrate on her. “I’ll make sure no further harm comes your way.”
She smiled. “And I’ll do the same for you.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. He was glad to see some laughter return to her eyes. He knew the nightmare was not over. Seeing murder was never an easy thing to accept, and this was her second dead body. He pulled her closer until their bodies touched, hip to hip. “What will you protect me from?”
“Everything,” she promised. Her blue eyes were sharp and full of a conviction that bothered him, though he didn’t know why. There was something about her look, but he put it aside and focused on her words.
She wanted to protect him.
He wondered if he’d ever been with another woman who’d wished to do so, yet Mena’s heart seemed just as strong as it was gentle.
But he didn’t wish her running into danger for him.
He lifted his hand and grazed his knuckles across her cheek and chin. “The best way to protect me is to remain safe. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“Or I you.” And then she leaned forward and kissed him.
* * *
19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
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He let her go …
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Mena wrapped her arms around Morgan and held onto him with all her might. She’d not been overreacting when she’d claimed her wish to protect him, and she would adhere to his advice and protect herself. The dagger that Creed had given her had more of a significant role in her life than before.