Touch of Rogue by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page A

We will need to eventually return to your husband’s home. Am I correct in assuming the other daggers are there?”
    She nodded.
    “In a safe?”
    She shook her head. “But no one will ever think to look for them in their present location, I assure you. When the time is right, I will explain.” When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “I’ve not demanded to know how you came by your knowledge of my husband’s death. I was warned your methods might seem mysterious. I ask you to extend me the same courtesy.”
    “Fair enough. Let us make a pact. Mysteries are allowed, but no lies. What we share with each other must be the unvarnished truth,” Jacob said, rising as Fenwick wiped a dab of soap from his earlobe. “The etching on the blade is the symbol for the Ancient Druid Order. Today, you and I will visit the old chaps and see if we can find a true believer among the poseurs and fakes.”
    “Druids?”
    It seemed the height of anachronism in Queen Victoria’s thoroughly Christian England to imagine the existence of a group dedicated to that ancient pagan practice.
    “My husband received a number of letters from ... oh, I can’t remember the name of the fellow now, but the letterhead was from the Ancient Druid Order.” When she’d gone through her husband’s correspondence after his death, she’d found several missives from someone connected with the Order. She’d assumed it was merely a club of some sort, not a serious religious group. “He kept asking most insistently for the earl to come to London to speak to their group about his collection of daggers.”
    “Hmmm,” Jacob said. “A name would have been helpful, but the fact that your husband received those letters means we’re on to something. Did the earl contact them first or they him?”
    Julianne cast about in her mind, trying to remember the contents of the letters. “It’s difficult to say. When I was going through Algernon’s things, my mind was ... preoccupied. I missed him. I thought reading his papers would help me through a difficult time. These letters were very esoteric, very scholarly in nature, so it’s hard to say which of them initiated their common interest in the daggers.”
    “He never visited the Order, I assume.”
    “No.” One more letter came after Algernon’s funeral, still urging the earl to visit. She’d sent back a short note explaining that her husband was deceased, and received a stilted note of condolence with no further mention of the daggers.
    Then as her period of mourning drew to a close, the other letter came, the cold, business-like one, from a gentleman who wished to remain anonymous. He made an offer that seemed the answer to all her problems. Could there be a connection?
    “Druids,” she repeated softly. “Algernon said the daggers were old, but I never dreamed—”
    “Oh, the metal is far older than the Druids,” Jacob said with confidence. “But I hope we’ll find someone who’s familiar with the lore about them among the members of the Order. Fenwick, see what you can discover about where this group meets, who its leader might be.”
    “Right-o, sir. I’ll send for a runner straight away.” Fenwick gathered up the tea service.
    “Oh, and while you’re at it, contact Mr. Marleybone and tell him to sell all my brother’s railway shares. Today, if possible.”
    Fenwick nodded, disappeared out the door, and turned toward the back staircase. “Should have something for you within the hour.”
    “That quickly?” Julianne said. “Your Mr. Fenwick is a man of many talents.”
    “He is that.” Jacob chuckled. Of course, it also helped that several Bow Street investigators owed their most public successes to Jacob’s private assistance. He wasn’t shy about calling in favors when the occasion warranted.
    His brows drew together. “Be warned. Once we peel back the social club aspects of this group, I suspect we’ll find a core of adherents with some ... bizarre rituals and