Havelock’s timing was perfect, but Apollo wished he hadn’t mentioned information about Jacks. Evangeline’s reaction to the potential news was immediate. Her expressions were always so easy to read. Earlier he’d seen her unease; then he’d seen her fear, her anger; and now as she bit down on her lower lip, he could see her curiosity. She was the moth and Jacks was still the flame.
“Havelock, show Lord Slaughterwood to my study. I’ll meet him there.” “May I join you?” Evangeline asked. “I’d like to hear what he has to
say.”
Apollo pretended to consider her request. But it was mostly to make sure she wouldn’t leave too soon and run into Lord Slaughterwood in the hall.
When Apollo had been under the Archer’s curse and everyone had believed him dead, he’d read in a scandal sheet that Evangeline had attended Lord Slaughterwood’s engagement party. So far she hadn’t reacted to his name, but Apollo couldn’t risk a run-in with the man that might jog any memories—or that Slaughterwood might say something to her about Jacks, who Apollo suspected she’d attended the party with.
“I’m so sorry, darling, but I don’t think that would be a good idea. Remember what I said about people believing you’re working with Jacks? If any of them were to find out you were in a meeting where his
whereabouts were revealed, they would blame you if he were to elude us again.”
Evangeline pinched her lips shut. She would argue with him, he had no doubt. But whatever she said next didn’t matter. This was all to protect her.
He stroked her cheek. “I hope you understand.”
“I do understand, and I hope you understand that as long as you treat me like an untrustworthy captive, I will act like one instead of like your wife.”
She pulled away from Apollo and without another word turned her back and walked out of the room, pink hair swishing behind her.
He had an urge to chase her, a remnant of the Archer’s curse that made him want to stop her before she reached the door and forbid her from leaving. He didn’t. Apollo knew it was better that she left right now, and there was only so far she could go.
Evangeline might have decided that she didn’t want to act like his wife, but it didn’t change the fact that she was. She was his. And one way or the other, eventually she would want him as much as he wanted her.
A few minutes later, Apollo met Lord Slaughterwood in his private study.
Robin Slaughterwood had always had the sort of good-humored nature that drew people to him like a magnet. But he wasn’t smiling today. His eyes had dark circles, his mouth was drawn, and his face was sallow. He looked as if he’d aged five years since Apollo had last seen him.
“You look excellent, my friend. Being engaged suits you well.”
“You’re as smooth a liar as ever,” Slaughterwood grumbled. “I look like hell, and the engagement is over. But I’m not here to talk about that.”
“You have a lead on Jacks?” Apollo asked.
“No,” Slaughterwood said quietly, stepping closer to the fire. “I just didn’t think you’d want me mentioning Vengeance Slaughterwood’s cuff.”
“Did you find it, then?” Apollo tried not to give too much of his excitement away. The cuff was an old story, a fairytale, the kind he’d never put too much faith in. But he’d learned recently that some of the old stories held far more truth—and more power—than he’d previously believed.
“No,” Slaughterwood said bluntly. “If it exists, my family doesn’t have it. But I did find something else that I thought might be of interest to you.” He handed Apollo a heavy scroll bound up with a thin cord of leather. “Be very careful with this. And whatever you do, don’t throw away the ashes.”
