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Vane shook hi wide-eyed from the box seat

“What’s wrong, Wickett?”

“Wrong?”

“You have the look of a le from the scaffold Where is your faith in my ability to ward off an attack?”

“It’s no good looking for trouble when yourLord Ravenscroft, you’ve not been yourself”

No, he was not himself

The pledge he’d naay at his conscience like a starving rat with razor-sharp teeth But he’d abandoned all hope of success All leads led to naught The runner he’d hired had sent him on a fool’s errand to Canterbury and then to Maidstone An acquaintance in Whitechapel sent him to a woman on Upper Newman Street While she had a smart mouth, and had recently returned fro name

“Of course I’m not myself My sister married a blasted pirate”

That was not the reason for his morose mood Ravenscroft had proven hiether could not question the depth of their love Still, it was as good an excuse as any, and it would stop his coach criticism, for now

Wickett bent his head “You miss Lady Lillian that’s for sure, but it’s no reason to dice with death at every given opportunity”

Hell, he ht years spent learning to live with loss, suppressing pain was not a new concept

Vane’s hts of his own sister to the miniature portrait of Ravenscroft’s sister locked away in his desk Why would he want to reme to forget her?