The Gentleman and the Thief
Page 16
Eloise caught sight of him first. “Uncle Hollis!” His name quavered on her lips as she ran to him.
He snatched her up and held her to him. Tears poured down her face. “My sweet girl.”
“We had to run away, Uncle Hollis.” She was shaking in his arms. “We had to run away.”
Ana reached his side. “How are you here so quickly? Wallace only just left to get word to you.”
“The fates are smiling on us today. I came for a visit, arriving just as Wallace was about to leave.”
“A welcome spot of luck,” Ana said.
“Indeed.” He rocked Eloise in his arms, though he continued speaking to Ana. “What happened?”
“Someone was trying to break into your brother’s house. Mr. Darby sounded afraid. The butler was stalwart but looked worried. Your brother is in danger. I’m certain of it.”
Confound it. Hollis set Eloise down. “Stay here with Miss Newport.” He turned to Wallace. “Stand sentinel at this house, man.”
“I’ll do for, guv.”
Hollis slapped him on the shoulder before he hurried from the room.
“Hollis.” Ana’s voice called after him.
He stopped on the top step of the staircase and turned back, fighting the growing need to run home, to save his brother from the trouble he’d gotten himself into.
“Eloise heard your brother talking about card sharps. And, yesterday, I saw him go into the Thompsons’ house with Mr. Lewiston. You’ve suspected he was gambling beyond what he ought. I suspect someone came today to collect on a debt.”
Thugs. Hollis had seen for himself what Four-Finger Mike’s roughs did to people. He’d best not go to Randolph’s house alone.
“Do you know if Cora and Addison got out of the house safely?”
“They were gone for the day, visiting her parents.”
Another welcome spot of luck. “Thank you for keeping Eloise safe.”
“I’ll thank you to keep yourself safe as well, Hollis Darby.”
He tossed her a smile. “I am not unfamiliar with the shadows, Ana.” He felt certain she wasn’t either.
She leaned toward him and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek before hurrying back into her father’s room.
Ana Newport was a growing mystery, and Hollis already had more of those than he could sort.
The door, three inches thick and solid oak, had been shattered off its hinges.
“Blimey.” Hollis stepped gingerly into the vestibule, Fletcher on his heels. “If whoever did this hasn’t killed my brother, I will.”
The tables in the entry were overturned. A vase lay on the tile floor in dozens of pieces, flowers and water strewn about. Every door in sight had been thrown open. A few were barely hanging on their hinges.
“Fly me,” Fletcher muttered. “What kind of mess did he land himself in?”
“A four-fingered one,” Hollis said.
They stopped in the entryway, listening. No discussion of strategy was needed; they both understood the proper method of snooping. The type of roughs who’d leave a house in this state weren’t trying to be stealthy. They’d not be this quiet.
“I’d wager they’ve left,” Fletcher said.
“I’m sick to death of people wagering,” Hollis said dryly.
They looked through each room, entering cautiously, leaving relieved. They found no thugs on the ground floor. None on the first floor, either. Or the second. Or third. All that remained was the servants’ quarters and belowstairs.
“If the butler was the one protecting your brother, he might well have hidden him away in the area of the house he knows best,” Fletcher said.
“And warned off the rest of the staff,” Hollis said. “The house is too quiet for anyone to still be here.”
The quiet of the house grew eerie as they took the stairs to its below-ground level. The silence in the servants’ corridor was unnerving. This part of a London house was never quiet.
Fletcher halted him with a hand on his arm. “Do you hear that?” he whispered.
He did. A thumping. Distant, quiet, repeating.
“Toward the back.” Fletcher motioned that way.
They moved slowly, keeping a careful eye on every shadowed corner and open door. Empty. All empty.
Yet the thumping continued.
“Something familiar in it,” Fletcher muttered. “I know I’ve heard that before.”
Hollis felt the same odd déjà vu.
As they approached the back of the house, the pounding grew louder. It sounded like wood against wood.
They reached the back door, the one leading out to the path cutting through the kitchen garden. The door was open. A stiff breeze from outside slammed it against the side of the house, over and over again. The pounding they’d heard.
Hollis dismissed the door as his gaze fell on something more ominous. The wall was charred, blackened with the scars of a fire hastily lit and hastily extinguished. Arson was Four-Finger Mike’s calling card.
Fletcher eyed the scorch marks. Hollis checked the back garden. It was just as empty as the house.
“A close call, here,” Fletcher said when Hollis stepped inside again. “It ain’t like Four-Finger to let a fire be put out. I’d guess he wasn’t tryin’ to burn the place down. This was a warning.”
“But where’s the one he was warning?”
Fletcher tucked his hands in his jacket pocket. “Not to be morbid, mate, but I kept a lookout for blood. Didn’t see a drop.”
Hollis emptied his lungs. “Maybe Randolph got away.”
“Parker’s a reliable sort,” Fletcher said. “The reason you added him to your network, no doubt. I’d guess he evacuated the staff, and that he spirited your no-good, lousy brother off somewhere safe.”
If only they knew where that “somewhere safe” was. “Let’s set the lads to sniffing out Randolph’s whereabouts. I’ll send word to Cora for her to stay at her parents’ house.”
Fletcher shook his head. “Convince her to go to Thurloe. I’ll ask Móirín Donnelly to head there as well. Between her and Elizabeth, it’ll be the safest spot for them all.”
“Assuming, of course, they don’t mind being featured in Mr. King’s upcoming installments,” Hollis said. “Though I’m enjoying ‘his’ latest work, I’m not certain I like watching my life play out on the page: a lonely gentleman sniffing out a thief and who’s lost his heart to a lady who keeps him firmly in the role of a friend.”
“Elizabeth writes what she sees in the world around her, like we all do.”
Hollis eyed him. “Did you enjoy it when your life played out on our mutual friend’s pages not long ago?”
“That tale ended well,” Fletcher said. “When all was said and done, I didn’t mind so much.”
“If Elizabeth can keep Ana safe while we search out my brother, I might forgive her.” He pushed out a breath as he eyed the scorch marks on the wall. “The roughs who came here might have seen Ana and might know who she is.”
The fire had been a warning, yes. But Hollis had a terrible suspicion the warning had not been for Randolph but for anyone who came to help him.
A warning . . . for him.
Ana had never met the fiery Irishwoman introduced to her as Móirín. She’d never once called at Thurloe, yet, she and Elizabeth appeared to be friends. Her attire was comfortably middle class, yet the alarming details Mr. Walker was sharing of the state of things at the Darby house didn’t cause Móirín to so much as flinch.
“How much of this does Mrs. Darby know?” Móirín asked.
“However much Hollis is up there telling her now,” Mr. Walker said. “Cain’t say I know what that’ll be. He don’t want to worry her, but he ain’t looking to lie.”
Poor Hollis. What a situation to find himself in.
“I’ve not heard any whisper
s of new gambling establishments among the folks I work with,” Móirín said. “Sounds to me like you’ve a criminal ring targeting, at least in part, the fine and fancy.”
“How do we get to the bottom of something like that?” Elizabeth asked.
“You send in someone fine and fancy,” Móirín said. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, pointing toward the doorway of Elizabeth’s office. “Someone like that lad, there.”
Sure enough, Hollis stood on the threshold, having arrived completely silently and without drawing the notice of anyone other than Móirín, who hadn’t even looked backward. How had she known he was there?
Hollis came inside. “I’ve been thinking the same myself.”
“Rest your bones.” Móirín motioned to the only empty chair in the room, one, sadly, nowhere near Ana. “Tell us what you’ve in mind.”
He dropped onto the chair. “I need to get myself invited to one of these games.”
Everyone in the room nodded. Everyone but Ana. Those “games” were the reason Hollis’s brother was missing, the reason his home had been ransacked, the reason a fire had been lit at the back door. How could they think diving into that cesspool was a good idea?
“You cain’t go in alone,” Mr. Walker said.
“But he, alone, has the standing,” Móirín said. “We haven’t another option.”
“He can’t.” Heat spread over Ana’s face when they all looked at her. “None of the gentlemen ever arrives alone.”
Hollis nodded. “They arrive always and only in pairs.”
Elizabeth stood and walked away, her expression mirroring the others in the group, all clearly deep in thought.
“I could wrangle someone to come with me,” Hollis said, “but I won’t place an innocent person in a dangerous situation.”
“I suspect it doesn’t work like that, anyway.” Elizabeth paced back toward them. “If these were games anyone could walk into, you would have heard more whispers about them in Society.”
“Makes sense,” Mr. Walker said. “I’d guess the players arrive in pairs because one is bringing the other.”
They were all catching on very quickly. She seemed to be the only one missing a piece of the puzzle.
“You’re needing someone to get you in,” Móirín said. “Your brother could, if he weren’t cowering somewhere, hiding from the roughs that run the games. Did you recognize anyone else arriving at the fancy copper hell?”
“Lewiston,” Hollis said. “But he arrived with my brother, which would make asking him to take me a little suspect.”
“Ask Alistair Headley,” Elizabeth said. “There’s nothing else for it.”
“He knows I don’t like him.”
“He knows no one likes him,” Mr. Walker tossed in.
Elizabeth shushed him with a wave of her hand. “His gambling is better known than Mr. Lewiston’s. If you tell him you’re looking to improve your fortunes but don’t care for the lower-class establishments, he’ll take you to Thompsons’.”
Hollis sighed. “I’m not certain I love my brother enough to join forces with Alistair Headley.” There was a forced quality to the jest. He was, no doubt, nearly overwhelmed with worry. “When we find Randolph, I’ll kill him.”
A few chuckles rumbled around the room. They were all so comfortable with these inherently uncomfortable discussions. Dangers. Criminals. Derring-do. Perhaps Hollis being behind the Rollins’s home hadn’t been a mere coincidence. Perhaps he’d been undertaking something himself.
Mr. Walker rose and stood beside Elizabeth. “Do you want me to stay at the school tonight, dove?”
She shook her head. “Ol’ Joe’s here. He’ll keep us safe.”
“You do have an extra degree of risk with Mrs. Darby and the children staying here.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Móirín rose. “I’m not as quick with my fists as he is, but I can wield a weapon with the best of ’em.” She crossed to the door. “I’ll settle in upstairs. Am I to keep my bein’ here a secret from Mrs. Darby and the little ones?”
“For now,” Hollis said. “I’d rather they were none the wiser about the precautions we’re taking. No use alarming them more than they already are.”
Móirín gave a quick nod and slipped out.
“I’ll have a word with Ol’ Joe before I hop off,” Mr. Walker said. He and Elizabeth left as well.
Ana released the breath she’d been all but holding.
Hollis sat beside her. He wove his fingers through hers. “I wish I’d been at my brother’s this morning like I was meant to be. You wouldn’t have been required to face this alone.”
“What happened this morning was frightening, yes, but it was not unfamiliar.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “After my father’s business failed and we’d sold our belongings to make good its debts, some who’d been defrauded decided getting their investments repaid was not enough. They, who had wealth beyond what we’d ever known, ransacked our house, taking anything that caught their eye.”
“Then I am not the only one who is acquainted with the shadows.”
She sighed and turned toward him, curving into his comforting strength. “What shadows are you familiar with?”
“I work amongst the poorest in London—rescue efforts and raising funds for education. It is dangerous at times.”
“Is that what you and your Irish friend were doing the day you visited Father?” she asked.
“Why do you—” He stopped. She felt his chest move with a silent laugh. “Yes. That is what we were doing.”
“You were very convincing,” she said. “I’m not at all certain which parts of that day were lies.”
“Lies?”
Her heart dropped, but she didn’t shy away. “Your reason for being there. Your reason for staying. Your insistence you enjoyed your visit.”
He slipped his hand from hers and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her closer. “Our initial reason for being in the neighborhood was not quite what we told you, but the rest was true.”
Ana looked up at him. “And did you enjoy riding in the park with me and going to the theater and all of that?”
“‘All of that’ has been the highlight of the past months,” he said.
“For me as well.”
He leaned achingly closer.
“Hollis.” Mr. Walker’s voice pierced the moment.
“Oh, bother,” Hollis whispered as he pulled back. He did not, though, drop his embrace.
“Ol’ Joe needs a bit more information.”
Hollis met her gaze again. “Remind me next time we have a few minutes together to pick up where we’re leaving off.”
Heat touched her cheeks, but she smiled. “I will.”
He rose and crossed the room. At the door, he paused and turned back. “And remind me as well to ask you how long you’ve been the Phantom Fox.”
A note was delivered to Hollis’s flat the next day. He unfolded it, curious.
Hollis Darby, you rat.
His eyes jumped to the signature at the bottom of the page. Elizabeth. Why was she so put out with him?
I don’t know what you said to Ana last evening, but when next I see you, I am going to throttle you.
What had happened?
She quit. No warning. No explanation. Simply said she wanted what was best for the school and, therefore, was resigning her post. She has left already. I am without a music teacher and without my friend. Fix this.
—Elizabeth
Hollis tossed the note onto his desk, pacing away. He’d made his comment about Ana being a thief as a bit of teasing. They’d shared a tender moment. He’d offered her a glimpse of his clandestine activities. Acknowledging that he knew a bit of hers had seemed fitting.
Instead he’d frightened her. She would be at her father’s house; he was certain of it.
“Libby, I’ll be—” But as he turned, he realized his housekeeper was not the one who had stepped inside. “Ana.”
She snapped the door closed behind her, then pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I am not a thief.” Her hand dropped. “Well, if one chooses to dwell on the technicalities, I am, but it’s not as simple as that.”
“Ana—”
“And it was rather brash of you to toss your discovery at me as you were walking away, offering me no opportunity to explain or respond.”
“I—”
“Nor did you come back for one. I had no chance to defend myself or plead with you not to tell people what you knew—or thought you knew. That was terribly unfair of you.”
“Darling.” He slipped his arm around her. She didn’t pull away. “I did come back to talk with you, but you’d retreated to your bedchamber. I didn’t dare push that boundary of propriety.”
“You revealed to anyone within earshot of Elizabeth’s office last evening that I was a thief, one notorious enough to have a street name. Questionable meeting spots could hardly do more damage to my reputation.” She was skittish as a foal in a field of snakes.
“The entryway was empty—even Fletcher had already slipped away. No one was on the stairs or across the way in the sitting room. I knew you alone would hear what I’d said. And”—he offered an apologetic look—“I thought I was being flirtatious.”
She eyed him sideways. “You realized I was stealing things, and your response was to flirt with me about it?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
Deep creases formed in her forehead. “You weren’t horrified or disgusted?”
“Hardly.”
Her lips twisted in dry amusement. “Thieves are your favorite sort of criminal, is that it?”
“You are my favorite sort of criminal.” He dropped his hands to hers and held them. “And I am bursting with curiosity over what must be a very interesting reason for all this.”
Some of the tension in her posture eased. “You didn’t assume the worst in me, then?”