by Golden Angel
There was a small commotion as a boy burst into the hat shop, startling several ladies near the entrance. Mary’s eyes widened in surprise when he looked right at her, hurrying forward before the shopkeeper or her assistants could halt him. The urchin grinned widely, shoving a piece of paper at her.
“Message m’lady,” he said. “Urgent like.”
“What are you doing in here? Out!” The shopkeeper was clearly outraged at having a street urchin in her shop, but she cut herself off when Mary stepped forward, shooting the woman a sharp look of censure.
“He is here with a message for me, and I have some questions for him.” Her voice was sharp. The woman had heard him say so, yet she had been ready to toss him out. Pressing her lips together, the shopkeeper looked as though she wanted to say something, but she managed to hold herself back in the face of Mary’s disapproval. Turning back to the boy, Mary let Josie’s glare take the place of hers. While Josie did not have Mary’s rank, she could glare with the best of them. Taking the piece of paper, Mary focused on the message-bearer. “Who sent you with this?”
“The toff outside.” The boy shifted on his feet uncertainly, eyes flicking between Mary and the shopkeeper. Likely he had come in on a lark, planning to make quick his escape. Mary lifted her head, glancing out the front window. Sure enough, there was a carriage out there and a man standing beside its door, watching her through the window. It took her a moment to place him—Collins. That was what Rex had called him last night. “Said it needed deliverin’ right away.”
Reaching into her reticule, Mary pulled out a coin and handed it to the boy.
“Thank you, you may be on your way.”
Grabbing it, the boy sprinted back out the way he had come. The shopkeeper sniffed but hastily turned and walked away when Mary met her gaze again.
“What is it?” Josie murmured, looking over Mary’s shoulder. Lily was walking up to them, wanting to know what was going on, her new bonnet already tucked away in a box.
Rather than answering, Mary quickly opened the note.
Please come quickly. I must speak with you alone. I have done something terrible and believe Rex might be in danger by my actions. Only you can help me.
Lucas, Earl of Devon.
“Oh, my…” Mary breathed out the words, quickly folding the note when Lily and Josie sucked in identical shocked gasps.
“Mary, you cannot,” Lily whispered. “It is too dangerous!”
“Do you think he’s the…” Josie cut herself off just in time. Though she was whispering, saying the word ‘traitor’ in such a public space was too much of a risk, especially since they had already drawn the attention of most of the shop when Mary accepted the message in the first place.
Looking back out the window at the man standing beside the carriage, she could see the clear pleading in his face. He was from the Society. Last night, he had approached Rex to say something about the earl. Mary’s memories were fuzzy on the actual conversation, too lost in her own little world, but she remembered that. The man stared back at her, tilting his head as if asking if she was going to come out. Why he did not leave the side of the carriage, she did not know, but surely it could not hurt to find out.
“Even if he is, he clearly regrets his actions,” Mary murmured. Thinking quickly, she shoved the note at Lily. “Take this to Rex. I am going to find out what Devon knows.”
Searching her eyes, Lily nodded her head sharply, taking the note. Josie was glaring out the window, squinting at the man as if she was trying to memorize his features. Apparently, unnerved by her gaze, Collins turned away, looking back into the carriage window. Or perhaps there was someone within who had spoken to him? The earl?
“I should go with you,” Josie said stoutly, but Mary shook her head.
“He says to come alone. If you come, he may not feel comfortable talking, especially if the conversation is… delicate.” Rex would want to help him, Mary felt sure of it. “Get that note to Rex, and I am sure he will be along shortly. If Devon is feeling talkative, this might be our only chance… Rex has been looking for him for days. I will be safe enough—he would not send me a message in the middle of a shop with so many witnesses if he was planning something nefarious.”
They did not like it, but they did not protest again, both nodding their grimly reluctant agreement and exchanging glances. For once, their feelings on a subject were in complete unison.
Hurrying out the door, Mary rushed up to Collins.
“Did you share the note with your friends?” he asked accusingly, frowning at her. Mary frowned right back at him.
“Of course, I would not be coming along otherwise.”
Still disapproving, he sighed, opening the carriage door.
“Very well. His lordship is in here, but be forewarned, he’s completely soused.”
That he was drunk came as no large surprise. Mary suppressed a sigh, climbing into the carriage with Collins’ help. As the man had indicated, the Earl of Devon was sitting inside, a blanket over his lap, his hands tucked beneath its edges. He blinked at her with muzzy confusion. His hair was bedraggled, there was several days’ worth of growth on his jaw, and he smelled like a brewery. Mary did not think she had ever seen a gentleman look so wrinkled and disarrayed.
“M-ry?” His voice slurred her name, so there was no vowel, and she tutted under her breath. Goodness, how drunk was he? The writing on the note had been perfectly legible. Perhaps he had written the request, then had a drink to give himself fortitude? Settling on the bench across from him, she stared back at him, aghast at the picture he made. Collins clambered into the carriage behind her, and Devon’s eyes widened in alarm. “M-ry – run!”
His voice was not loud, but it was emphatic, and he lifted his hands as if to reach for her. Mary gasped in shock and horror when the blanket fell away, revealing his hands were bound in front of him. Cursing, Collins slammed the carriage door shut behind himself, quickly pulling out a gun and sitting down next to Mary, pressing the hard metal against her ribs. Mary cried out as his hand wrapped round her bicep, holding her in place, trapping her. Her mouth went dry with fear, heart pounding in her chest, and confusion reigned.
“Neither of you move,” he said, his voice icy cold and cruel, a far cry from the worried, disapproving man he had portrayed only moments earlier. “Lucas, behave, or I will shoot her right here and now, and damn the consequences.”
Rex
Clearing the air did not take long once Browne was settled and willing to begrudgingly listen. Rex was glad he had asked Cormack to come along—the butler was so shocked Browne thought Rex could be complicit in any kind of treachery and so vehement in Rex’s defense, the captain actually began to listen.
“You could have believed Elijah and me,” Jones complained, scowling at Browne, who shrugged unrepentantly.
“Elijah was his friend years ago but not of late, and you barely know him. He could have hidden all sorts of things from either of you.” Browne inclined his head toward Cormack. “No one can hide anything of importance from their butler.”
Rex snorted. It was true enough. He did not allow himself to laugh, though. He did not want to like Browne. The man was rude, gruff, abrasive, and far too quick to jump to intimidation. That might work on some people, but it had backfired with Rex.
“So, how can I help you, gentlemen?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “Why do you need my help?” He braced himself, sure they were going to ask about Lucas, and was utterly shocked by Browne’s first question.
“What can you tell us about Andrew Barrowman and Rupert Collins?”
Blinking in surprise, Rex took a moment to readjust his expectations. He had been prepared to confess he didn’t know of Lucas’ whereabouts and even to tell them about the odd last meeting they’d had. The Earl of Carlisle and his lover had been nowhere near his thoughts.
“You think Carlisle is involved?” Truthfully, he could see that even less than Lucas. Carlisle’s accounts were in no danger of being e
mptied, he stood to benefit greatly from the trade agreements currently being hammered out with the French, and he had a core of honor Rex would have thought unassailable. Whereas Lucas, for all that he was Rex’s friend, was an admitted opportunist.
“Or Collins,” Browne tacked on. “Or both of them. Right now, the evidence is unclear, but we believe that to be the case. Jones saw him speaking to you last night.”
“Yes, but all he wanted was to warn me that he saw the Earl of Devon speaking with… well, someone whom the Society would rather not have him interacting with.”
Jones and Browne both grimaced.
“Julian Mitchell?” Jones asked, his distaste clear. Rex nodded, surprised they knew the man’s name. “Not one of Stuart’s better recruiting ideas, though he does have a knack for ferreting information out of the underbelly of London.”
“Mitchell is one of Stuart’s?” Rex was thunderstruck and a bit irate. “The man is an attempted rapist, at the very least.”
“Believe me, none of us are happy about it, though Stuart has curbed Mitchell’s darker impulses,” Browne said sourly. “Likely he thought he was safe in your club. Stuart was livid when Mitchell managed to get himself kicked out.”
“Does that mean Warwick…” The realization nearly bowled him over since Warwick had been the one to introduce both Mitchell and Jones, but Jones was already shaking his head.
“Only a useful connection, not one of us.” Jones smiled a bit bleakly. “Stuart has some information Warwick wants, and we wanted access to the Society.” He shrugged, and Rex scowled. Hell and damnation. Warwick was definitely out after this. Introducing damn spies into the Society, even if Jones ultimately belonged there. Catching the expression on Rex’s face, Jones gave him a look. “If you could allow Warwick to remain a while longer, we would be grateful.”
“If I must,” Rex replied begrudgingly. He sighed, turning his thoughts back to what he knew of Carlisle and Collins. While his impressions of Carlisle were easily shared, when it came to Collins, he stumbled. “He and Lucas, the Earl of Devon, do not get along because Lucas tried to seduce Carlisle away from Collins at one point, but… truthfully, I know almost nothing about the man. He allows Carlisle to speak for him and is almost always by his side.”
The bell rang, and Cormack begged their pardons, leaving the room to answer the door.
“Do you know if Collins stays with Carlisle when he returns to his estate?” Browne asked.
“Oh, yes. The two are never separated unless Carlisle has to attend a ball or some such. Obviously, Collins cannot follow him there.” He was not ton, although Rex now realized he did not know much about the man’s antecedents. Carlisle had sponsored him to the Society, he had clearly belonged by his own behavior, and the two were together even more often than Carlisle and his wife were. While the Countess occasionally dabbled with other members, Collins never did.
A commotion in the hall had all three men on their feet, frantic feminine tones underscored and overriding Cormack’s baritone.
“Rex! Rex, we need you now!” Miss Pennyworth burst into the room, Miss Davies only a step behind her, and Cormack just behind them, his face flushed with worry. “We think Mary is in danger!”
Chapter 24
Mary
“What is wrong with him?” Mary asked, staring across the carriage at Lucas. His head lolled on his neck, eyes occasionally blinking, but he was clearly muddled. After attempting to warn her, he had settled back into a stupor, slumped and fairly useless. She felt guilty for her ungracious conclusion, but it was true.
Collins snorted. “I told you, he’s soused. ’Tis amazing he’s still conscious with the amount of gin I poured down his throat, the bloody lush.”
So, it was not Lucas’ fault he was so inebriated. That made Mary feel far more favorably toward him—and guiltier about her judgment.
“I take it Lucas does not need my assistance?” she asked, doing her best to ignore the hard metal pressing into her side, the only thing that kept her from screaming. Not knowing anything of Collins, other than he was part of the Society, she did not know what might set him off or how likely he was to actually shoot her, so it seemed best to err on the side of caution.
Collins snorted. “Why do you care?”
“I am doing my best not to devolve into hysterics,” Mary answered through gritted teeth. “Perhaps you might indulge me?”
“You are far too sensible a person,” Collins said coolly, tilting his head as though listening for something. With the curtains drawn across the window, they could not see where they were. Was he expecting to hear something that would indicate their destination? Mary thought he was rather overestimating her nerve. She had never had a gun pointed at her. “Now, as much as I appreciate you finally venturing out without Rex by your side, this has advanced my plan a bit earlier than anticipated, and I need to think.”
Though Mary’s first inclination was to be quiet as long as he had her at gunpoint, giving him time to think did not seem like the best course of action if she was going to survive today. She did not have high hopes Collins’ intentions were anything other than deadly. While Lucas might be too drunk and disreputable to be a convincing witness against him, Mary was entirely sober and respectable.
“You wanted me in particular?” she asked, keeping her voice small, hoping one question did not incite him to violence.
“If I could… and look where fate has landed me.” Collins laughed cruelly. “I finally found Lucas the same afternoon I saw you out without your great protector. It was truly meant to be.”
“But why me?”
“Nothing personal.” She felt him shrug, the gun shifting slightly, which made her tense. “I needed someone to take the blame for some of my… activities. Lucas turned out to be the perfect stand-in. Excessively in debt, notoriously disreputable, estates on the coast, and quite put out about Rex’s search for a bride. Everything lined up very well.”
Estates on the coast! Whatever Collins was involved in, it must have to do with smuggling. Mary remembered noting Carlisle’s estates on a map. They were not far from Lucas’ and also on the southern coast of England. Rather than sharing her knowledge that he was a traitor, Mary pretended to pure confusion and asked the second most burning question in her mind.
“Why was he put out about Rex’s search for a bride?” Rex had mentioned no such thing, and Mary believed he would have if he had known. They had talked often enough about the earl and why he might be avoiding Rex.
“Because he’s in love with the man. Now, be quiet.”
Biting her tongue, Mary stared across the carriage in consternation at Rex’s best friend. Rex said Lucas had a preference for men, but he had never hinted Lucas’ feelings for him might be more than friendly. Did he know? Was Collins correct, or had he made that up from whole cloth? Unfortunately, the only person who could answer with any definitiveness was humming under his breath, evidently oblivious to the conversation happening across from him.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and Mary’s heart leapt in her chest. This might be her chance! She must have made some kind of movement because Collins’ grip on her tightened.
“Do not bother screaming,” he murmured in her ear. “There is no one about to help you.”
Indeed, when the carriage door opened, the coachman standing there was blankly indifferent to her plight. He did not meet her eyes, but neither did he appear too bothered by his employer’s actions.
“Is there anyone about?” Collins asked the driver, who shook his head. Mary’s heart sank. What kind of street were they on that no one would be around? Collins got out first, keeping his pistol pointed at her. “Come on, Mary, you first.”
Trying to keep her racing heart from panicking her, she gathered her courage and stepped outside. To her surprise, she was on a rather respectable street, with neat rows of houses and… oh, dear. It was Jermyn street. Collins grinned maniacally at her, grabbing her arm again and pressing the pistol against her side.
/> “Welcome to Lucas’ house. He would escort you in properly if he could, I am sure.” He glanced at the driver and jerked his head toward the carriage, indicating Lucas. “Keep an eye on him. I will be back after I set her up.”
“I don’ have long,” the driver muttered, seemingly nervous for the first time. Mary’s hopes rose, but the man still would not look up so she could catch his eye. He was more nervous about being caught than concerned over hers and Lucas’ fates.
“Just wait here,” Collins snapped.
Using his body to cover the gleaming metal of the pistol in case anyone did come down the street, though there was not a soul in sight to Mary’s consternation, Collins dragged her to the front door and quickly entered. If Lucas had any servants around the house, they were either occupied or out running errands, the same as all the other houses on the street.
As the well-known bachelor street, most of these houses would be maintained with minimal staff, unlike the usual Mayfair abodes. Some of the gentlemen might have someone only employed for part of the day or even a few days a week.
Someone might have heard her scream, but there was no guarantee, and such a tactic was more likely to get her shot. Though Collins did not seem to want to shoot her yet, she had no doubt it was coming. What she had to do was look for a more feasible way to escape before it happened—knowing he was going to return to the coach to fetch Lucas, she hoped she would have a chance then.
More of one than with him right beside her, able to pull the trigger at the slightest bit of resistance.
Rex
The ladies’ words and general state of panic, sending fear shooting through Rex’s body, he jumped to his feet.
“What do you mean?” he barked out over Browne and Jones’ more general exclamations over the intrusion. If it had been just Miss Pennyworth, Rex might have suspected she was being dramatic, but a second glance at her face showed her to be pale and frightened. Miss Davis was similarly discomposed, clutching her skirts, fretting. And Mary was not with them.