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“Do you truly think they will believe that?” Ian’s voice made her jump in her chair and spill the ink onto the table.

“Blast!”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think that letter would have worked either,” he said, pointedly looking at the scrunched pieces of paper by her side.

“Do you have a better idea?” Helen said as she blotted the ink with the paper, in an attempt to clean the table.

“No.” He shrugged and took the paper out of her hands. “Leave it.”

Their skin touched and Helen caught her breath. The reaction he had on her didn’t change even slightly after she found out the truth about him and his true intentions toward her.

Was she being naive? Trusting him, confiding in him. Living under his roof, masquerading as his wife when all along he’d used her to get to her cousin-in-law.

She started when he took her hand in his, enveloping her palm with his fingers. “Come. I think it’s time we discussed everything.”

Helen eagerly followed him to the bed, and they both sat on the edge, slightly turned to face each other.

“Tell me,” Helen prompted after a brief silent pause. “Everything from the beginning.”

“From the beginning.” Ian quirked his eyebrow.

And then he told her all about his recruitment to the King’s service. He told her about a man he called his handler and how he was the only one who’d believed in him since he was a little boy and how that cemented the loyalty he had toward the man and the King.

He told her about the Shadows and how the group evolved from being a myth, some shadowy figures in the dark to the real vigilantes spreading their own brand of justice in London. He’d told her about Jarvis’s friend Bradshaw, and all the ways Jarvis was tied to the man’s death.

He’d told her about the Hades hell, which had been ransacked and burned as retaliation for kidnapping Helen and her husband. And all the other little breadcrumbs that led Ian to believe that Jarvis St. John was a part of the Shadows’ society.

“None of this proves that Jarvis is a criminal,” Helen said.

One side of Ian’s mouth curled in a smile. “Your devotion to your cousin-in-law is both admirable and irritating at the same time. I wish you had the same trust in me.”

Helen licked her lips. “I’ve known Jarvis for years. He supported me through my tumultuous marriage to his cousin. He was more like a brother to me than a cousin-in-law. He took me in without hesitation, without question, when I had nowhere to go. He made me a part of his family, and Olivia made me a part of her group of friends. Everything I have is thanks to them. Then when Laney arrived on our doorstep, he offered to adopt the child, because she was Greyson’s. But I couldn’t let him do it. In my mind, in my heart, she was mine. And he gave her to me, when most men wouldn’t. He’s earned my devotion through the years. And I can’t just throw it away, no matter how I feel about you.”

His smile widened and a spark of mischief appeared in his eyes. “And how do you feel about me?”

She pursed her lips, and his gaze instantly dropped to her mouth. Helen forced herself to stay focused. “I feel like you haven’t told me the whole story yet.”

He raised his gaze to hers and let out a breath. “You’re right. As a spy in the King’s service, my job is to find and eliminate any threats to the King coming from inside the country. I posed as a mindless drunk and delivered information to my handler for years. I also had sources helping me in this endeavor. A few months ago, I found out that Jacobites were gathering their forces to orchestrate a rebellion. A few upstanding members of Parliament were blackmailed to help carry out the plan. Blackmailed by the leader of the Shadows. And the men who were blackmailed all had ties to your cousin-in-law in one way or the other. But before I could figure out who the blackmailers truly were and what their purpose was, those men, those blackmailed lords, started turning up dead. Then I got caught in a brothel and was suspended from spy duty. And the only way I can get back, the only way I can return to the only purpose I’ve ever had in my life, is if I solve those blackmails turned murders myself. And that’s when I came up with the plan to scour St. John’s house.”

Blackmail? A few months ago, Helen’s little group of friends was dealing with a debacle of a similar nature. Lavinia was being blackmailed by a man claiming to be Erebus. Was that the alleged leader of the Shadows?

Back then, Helen was newly widowed, a fresh veil of grief covered her eyes and ears, and she didn’t remember the details of what had transpired. Except, she knew the identity of the blackmailer.

“And this is the note I recovered from St. John’s study the night he caught me.” From behind his back, he produced some papers, including a note reading:

Eliminate Ian McAllistair.

Helen’s chest constricted painfully. “They wanted Jarvis to kill you?”

“Unless he wrote this note himself so he could catch me.” Ian looked at Helen with a glimpse of hope in his green eyes.

Helen studied the note more carefully, then shook her head. “I don’t think it is his handwriting.”

Ian nodded. “It is possible they figured out that I was snooping around his house and that’s why they wanted to kill me. But there’s a possibility that I was just in their way.”

Helen shook her head. “Jarvis would never kill anyone, let alone an innocent man.”

Ian paused, thinking something over in his mind. Then he rummaged through the papers and handed Helen a few of them. They were sketches of men accompanied by dates and other vital information. “These are the men that were killed,” Ian supplied. “Have you ever seen them in St. John’s house?”