The Robber Bride by Jerrica Knight-Catania Page A

that. Suddenly he wasn’t up to that particular task.
    Instead, he approached the carriage to make sure whoever was inside was all right. Before he made it there, though, a familiar head popped out. What the devil?
    “ Woodmore ?”
    “Is he gone?” the man asked, a wild look of fright in his eyes.
    “Yes, he’s gone,” Fin replied as he climbed down from his mount. “Are you all right?”
    Woodmore stepped down to the street and stared off in the direction of Victoria’s carriage. “Just a bit shaken up is all. You saved my life, though.” He looked to Fin with adoration.
    “Yes, well, you’re welcome.” Fin wasn’t completely comfortable with the man. There was something about him that struck Fin as odd, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Though I doubt he would have shot.”
    “But he certainly could have,” Woodmore persisted. “How may I repay you?”
    “No repayment necessary.”
    “I insist.”
    “And I decline.”
    Woodmore stepped closer to Fin. Too close. He lowered his voice when he said, “I would really like to show my appreciation, my lord.”
    Oh, good God. Was Woodmore propositioning him? Fin suddenly understood why he’d always been a bit suspicious of the man. The bloody chap preferred men to women. Damn and blast. Fin didn’t give a fig what the man did in the privacy of his own home, but to make such a blatant proposition to someone he barely knew . . .
    Fin stepped back a half step. “Were I a less understanding man, I might have beat you to a bloody pulp. As it is, I’m quite understanding, but I’m a rarity.”
    “But—”
    “No, no!” Fin swung his leg over his horse’s back. “No buts, please. Just go home and try to forget that I saved your life.”
    Silence accompanied him as he rode away, and Fin was grateful for that. He had much to think about. What scared him was the discovery he’d made tonight. The confirmation that Victoria was doing something highly illegal and very dangerous.
    But why? That was the question that lingered in his mind as he returned his horse to the mews and went inside. The house was dark, save a single sconce in the entryway to illuminate his path to the stairs. He climbed them slowly; every step felt heavy and laden with sadness. The distance between him and Victoria had gone from a stream to an ocean in the matter of a day, and part of him wished he had never seen her in Southwark .
    It still puzzled him, though, and likely would for some time. He didn’t foresee getting any answers from her any time soon. But why was she trying to rob Woodmore tonight? And was it at all related to her being in Southwark the other morning? He let out a groan, knowing he was too tired to try and piece it together tonight.
    Once he’d divested himself of his clothing, Fin crawled into bed, eager for sleep to overcome him. However, as he continued to mull over the events of the evening, something dawned on him.
    Damn! Why had he not realized before? Of course it had been Victoria who had robbed him and Lady Beecham that night last week. And Lord Culver. That had been her as well. Why, why, why? And for how long? Could she really have kept this up for two years without being caught? Was she bored? Was she rebelling?
    Fin’s mind spun with possibilities, none of which pleased him. And then he began to ponder unpleasant outcomes for his friend. The most unpleasant, and the most likely given her activities, being hanging. That image sent Fin darting from bed to light candles around the room. He would never be able to sleep now. His only escape from the gruesome image would be to paint. He was sure he would regret it come morning, not trying harder to go to sleep.
    Oh, what the devil did he care? He was a lord. Everyone expected him to sleep all day and drink all night. And it wasn’t as if he had to escort Victoria about during the day as he had done for the past two years.
    He should have been working on the painting for Lord Bishop’s wife,