Ysabella's husband, William Hayward, the Lord of Wakefield had one brother—Thomas Hayward, the Lord of Bertram. That was all that Nicholas knew of the man for they never had a chance to be chummy.

He met the man merely on very rare occasions, the longest being Ysabella and Wakefield's wedding. On the rare occasions he was in Wickhurst he was with his mother, Lady Hayward, taking her to the opera or shopping. He never went with the woman during family dinners or tea parties in the Everard estate, a very common occurrence since Lady Alice and Lady Hayward became very good friends due to the union of their children. Although Ysabella saw the man with high regard, the rest of her siblings could simply not do so.

There were countless reasons why Thomas was never part of the circles Wakefield was a part of, one of them was the obvious fact that both brothers never liked each other. Many believed that the only thing that bound the brothers together was their mother, Lady Hayward.

Thomas and Wakefield's interests were never the same, Thomas being the proper and responsible son who kept to himself and his estate and Wakefield being the rake before he married Ysabella.

So why the bloody hell was the man here in Puck with Ralph?

Studying Thomas as he climbed off his horse, assessing the serious look on his face, Nicholas could only assume one thing: the man was a bloody Leaguer.

The signs had always been there, but no one noticed it. The man kept to himself, secretive at best. But he managed to hide being a part of the League of Founders by being part of the society who cared naught about conspiracies but social standing, gossips and scandals. To the ton, Thomas Hayward was merely rich like many other lords and he was definitely a catch for many unmarried ladies. Apart from that, he was not seen as anything but.

But Nicholas did not care if the Lord of Bertram was a Leaguer. He was bloody concerned that his own brother took the man with him.

His jaw tightened, his hands balled into fists as he stood guard in the doorway. "Go and stand guard outside Sophia's chamber," he ordered the footman who immediately disappeared into the cottage.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded of Ralph, eyes on Thomas. The man looked like he had missed many nights of sleep. His face was no longer the same as Nicholas remembered for instead of the fresh, clean look he always maintained, Thomas looked like he had traveled from the farthest corner of the Town to here in one day—running.

"He is here to—" Ralph started but Thomas stepped in front of Nicholas to say, "I am here because your sister thought it best."

The look he was giving Nicholas told Nicholas that he ought to know by now why he was here.

Suddenly the anger Nicholas felt brewing inside him morphed into something and changed direction—toward his own sister.

"She believes she is too emotionally invested in this case," Thomas added and Nicholas did not entirely believe him.

"You are not stepping inside this cottage, Bertram," he sternly said, taking one step away from the doorway to block the man's path. And to Ralph he addressed, "Give me one good reason not to kill you, Ralph."

His brother stepped closer. "He is not here to take her, Nick. I would not have brought him here if that were so."

Nicholas narrowed his eyes. "A Leaguer and a Guard is not a pair of visitors I could easily welcome into my cottage. You lot lie like the men you consider criminals."

Thomas sighed and threw Ralph a look of impatience. He did not believe Nicholas was making it easy and he did not have the time for this.

But this was Nicholas' home. Nicholas shook his head before he fixed Thomas a wry smile. "How is Miss Randolph, Thomas?"

Thomas' face hardened and registered alarm.

"Fret not, Margaret did not tell us. She keeps too much from us," Nicholas corrected. "The fact that it was you who took Aurora as pawn for this bloody game you are playing with Osegod is not something our dear sister would readily admit. The reason I know is that I am not as foolish as you may believe me to be." The flicker of fury in Thomas' eyes told Nicholas he guessed correctly. The man had been around Wickhurst around the time Aurora Randolph disappeared. And the fact that he was here as well confirmed it. He was bloody collecting pawns, the bastard.

"Your sister is giving me the burden of handling the more difficult tasks, Whiston," Thomas uttered, "and you being too nosy is not making it any less difficult."

Nicholas allowed a mocking proud smile. "My mother would agree that my purpose is to make everyone's life a bit uncomfortable."

"You are too nosy not to be a Leaguer, Whiston. Perhaps you should consider it."

Ralph was standing restlessly beside Thomas, eyes on Nicholas, pleading him to step aside and be a good citizen.

"You will have to kill me before you can take her with you, Bertram," Nicholas hissed, ignoring his brother's presence. "Are Miss Randolph and her child not enough?" Thomas' face tightened at the mention of the child. "Do you have to fill another room where you keep them with another innocent life?"

"You do not—"

"All for your purpose of taking down Osegod?" Nicholas finished incredulously. "Have you not wondered how one man can do whatever you believe him to be doing? He is not alone, Bertram, and you know it. You cannot easily take him down by taking his bastard and former mistress as pawns."

Bertram's dark blue eyes flared into fury. "You do not know what we know, Whiston," he gritted through his teeth. "What you claim you know is nothing. Do not attempt to think or act like one of us because you are not. Spare me the preaching for I did not come here for her. I came for her brother."

Nicholas glared at Ralph. "News surely does travel fast."

Ralph's gaze wavered. "I had my orders, brother," he murmured. "Orders I cannot talk about."

"Even to me?"

Ralph nodded.

"Because I am not a Guard, nor am I a Leaguer."

"Precisely," Thomas said, stepping forward. "Take Durley out so we can all go home."

But Nicholas held his ground.

Thomas sighed. "No blood shall be spilled tonight, Whiston. I am here to negotiate."

Nicholas chuckled as he realized that he was not going to win. But then, mayhap it was for everyone's good intention that Durley finally talked with the authorities. The bloody bastard had been keeping to himself for too long.

And before he changed his mind, Nicholas said, "You shall not have a glimpse of her, Bertram. You can have her brother, talk to him, but you shall not see her."

Bertram shrugged.

Nicholas turned to go back inside the cottage.

It was time to interrupt Sophia and Durley's reunion. And perhaps—just perhaps—Durley would be forced to pay for his deeds.

*****

Thomas and Durley locked themselves in one room with Ralph and nothing was heard, not even a whisper. Not that Nicholas cared at all for he spent the entire time sitting beside Sophia's bed as she slept.

He looked around the room and realized that she was leaving this place. He saw her clays in one corner, the project she had been working on covered with cloth at the center of it all. He watched Aabha stare, eyes glimmering as if ecstatic to finally be rid of him.

"It shall not be easy, my friend," he whispered to the dog. "You shall never be free of me. I know where you live in Rock'oles. I know how to get into that chamber through the bloody backdoor."

Nicholas waited until Fanny poked her head into the room to signal that the meeting was over. The three men had been using the housekeeper's chamber and the old woman was merely relieved to have it back.

Nicholas stood up and left Sophia sleeping to find Durley calmly walking back to reenter his sister's chamber, Bertram walking out of the front door and Ralph rummaging the cottage kitchen.

He made a small circle, disbelief on his face. Bertram's horse neighed and its gallops erupted outside the cottage until if faded away as its master rode out of Puck. The footman closed the front door and returned to his post outside.

"That was bloody fast," Nicholas said to Ralph who was attacking Fanny's terrible pudding.

His brother simply shrugged.

"What did you talk about?" he demanded, walking into the kitchen. Eyes narrowed at Ralph, he added, "And do not bloody say I cannot know, Ralph, because I am this close,"—he lifted his hand to show a centimeter of space between two fingers—"to throttling the life out of you."

Ralph swallowed his food with a grimace. "Bloody pudding," he muttered as he wiped his mouth. He turned to give Nicholas a serious look. "I immediately went to Margaret the moment I received your note. She was in a meeting with Bertram when I arrived and she decided that I must take him with me." He lifted a hand to stop Nicholas' outburst. "She made him promise not to take Sophia. He did and I took him here."

Nicholas ran his fingers through his hair. "But that does not discount the fact that they now know where she is! They could bloody be waiting somewhere to abduct her!"

Ralph shook his head. "I see no reason why they would do it now that they can talk with Durley. It is him they want, Nick, not Sophia."

Nicholas scoffed. "And what do they specifically want from him?"

"The League has figured out what Durley wants and they are trying to convince him that they can help each other."

"You mean to say they will help Durley take down the Trilbys as well?"

Something flashed in Ralph's eyes before he quickly recovered and said, "What I can tell you is Durley's reply to the offer."

"Which is a no," Nicholas supplied without hesitation. Ralph confirmed with a nod. "He is not used to working with anyone."

"But he is a great asset," Ralph said. "One we are willing to be patient for."

Nicholas shook his head. "And the Guards are now a part of this again? Considering Bertram allowed your presence in that room tells me so."

"Me and a few others," Ralph corrected. "We cannot fully trust the Guards, Nick. Osegod has men inside."

"And you are not arresting the bastard?" he asked, referring to Durley. "After the ambush, you simply sit here eating Fanny's terrible pudding while the man responsible for the lives of two Guards is merely a few paces away?"

Ralph shrugged, his face unreadable. "As I have said, brother, I have orders. The man is more valuable to us alive and free than in prison."

Nicholas shook his head. "I do not like this, Ralph. By working on this case, the family is placed in even more potential danger."

His brother's face turned grim. "I know." He met Nicholas' gaze. "But but need Durley's cooperation as much as he would someday need ours for his own goals. More is at stake now, Nick. And I wish I can bloody tell you."

"No," Nicholas said, shaking his head. "I do not wish to know for it would mean knowing what all of you are also willing to do to save us all." He turned to leave. "I do not wish to discover that there is no difference in the amount of evil from both sides after all. Goodnight, brother. Have a safe trip back to Wickhurst. We have no extra room for you here. And do tell our sister that I appreciate her effort for Sophia but I shall not have any of her friends come bothering again."

*****

By morning, Nicholas was pacing outside Sophia's bedchamber.

He could hear that she was preparing to leave and he would not stop her if she wanted to go home with her brother.

He had kept her long enough against her will. He did it in such foolish fashion that he knew he had no right to stop her now. He had been impetuous and driven with anger.

He wanted answers and he now had enough.

The other reason to beg her not to go seemed rather farce given the situation.

But he wanted to do it. He wanted to beg her to stay, to talk and settle matters.

When the door to her chamber opened and Durley walked out, Nicholas stopped and faced him.

"Sophia is dressing," Durley said. "Your housekeeper is helping her. And then we are leaving and you are not stopping us, Whiston."

Nicholas tried to remain calm, as though Sophia leaving was a matter he had already anticipated long beforehand, as though he was not considering kneeling before Durley to ask for his sister's hand.

He decided to change the subject by asking, "What do you wish to do now?"

"If you are asking about my plans against the Trilbys, Whiston, pardon me to say that it is none of your bloody business. Stay away from the Trilbys if you wish to spare your family the wrath that shall befall them." He walked to a chair by the window and sat down, leg crossed over the other, looking like he was the master of the cottage and he had been living in it for decades.

"And if you hope to know about my opinion on the opportunity presented before me by your Leaguer friend and your brother last night, my answer is very simple." He clasped his fingers together over his lap as he held Nicholas' gaze. "They cannot force me to do anything. I may decide to help them get Osegod out of the way, or I may not. That shall be entirely dependent on how I would find good use for the League and the Guards in the future. Osegod is too clever and I have completely lost his trust which shall indeed be a challenge. But now that I have the League and the Guards at my disposal, the challenge may not be for long. The timing shall be decided by me, not the League or the Guards." His eyes left Nicholas and veered toward Sophia's closed door. "For now, I have more important matters to attend to. As to Osegod, I need to distance myself from the man if I want to gain the trust of the very people I hope to ruin."

Nicholas scoffed. "Surely you cannot be too confident where the League is concerned, Durley. They may resort to harsher measures."

Durley shrugged. "The League and I have an understanding."

"An understanding?"

"That is between me and them." Nicholas' jaw tightened. It must be amongst the things Ralph did not share last night. He heard Durley's heavy sigh. "Osegod shall fall, Whiston, but it shall be when I need him to. As of now, it is not the perfect time to see him fall. You Everards merely have to be more cautious and patient. This matter with Osegod shall soon end."

"And what of Sophia?"

Durley stared at him, brown eyes all-knowing. "She can do whatever she wishes as she always did. She hopes to go back to Rock'oles, then she shall."

"You mean you still plan to use her for your own selfish reasons, find a good use for her like you did before as your messenger."

Durely turned grim and his voice turned cold as he uttered, "My sister has always had freedom the moment I rescued her from that brothel. It is her choice to help me."

Nicholas let the silence linger for a while, the occasional voice of Fanny and Sophia escaping through the door and floating toward them. "I will never forgive you for the ambush, Durley. I almost lost my brother that night."

Durley looked as if he was close to rolling his eyes, finding the subject a bore. "Do you mean the ambush in the Dark Forest?" Durley paused and having no response from Nicholas, added, "She did not tell you, did she? I believe she thinks it for the best."

Nicholas stilled. "Whatever do you mean, Durley?"

The man uncrossed his legs and stood up. "Whiston, I try my best to do what my sister wishes. I did and unfortunately it still ended badly. Blame Osegod for he did all on his own."

"What he bloody hell are you talking about?"

Durley simply looked at him as though he was the most foolish man alive. "She begged me to not go through with the ambush, Whiston."

"She did what—"

"This ambush matter is too old a subject for me to discuss. I had already come into terms with what happened, but obviously you and my sister never did." Durley turned and walked to the kitchen, his footsteps leading him farther toward the door that led to the back of the cottage. "I have no more words to say. Sophia had her reasons for not telling you and I have already said too much. Perhaps you can steal a few minutes to ask her yourself. But do not take long for I do not have all the time in the world."

Before Durley could even finish last words, Nicholas whirled around.

He stormed toward Sophia's chamber and barged inside the room. Sophia was sitting on her bed while Fanny was in one corner bending over the floor to pick up a cloth.

"One moment, Marcus," Sophia murmured as she carefully tied the ribbon of her lace slippers, her eyes narrowed down at her task.

Nicholas, on the other hand, was not focused on her. His eyes were on the cloth in Fanny's hand, traveling to the molded clay where the cloth fell from. It was too late for Fanny to cover the bust of head for Nicholas was already striding forward, eyes fixed on the face Sophia had been working on.

Fanny stood in awkward silence while Sophia stilled in her task, realizing it was not her brother who entered the room.

Nicholas, however, was stupefied as he looked straight at Sophia's creation on the table. He did not have to look into a viewing glass to recognize the face molded on the clay for it was perfectly made.

It was him.