Shadows in Time

by Julie McElwain

  The muscle around his eye tightened and twitched uncontrollably. He bounced to his feet, his nerves jangling. He needed to move around, but the space was so tiny. Where was the damn whore? Rachel had gone out over an hour ago to pick up food for them. She’d probably found a customer along the way, damn her eyes. When she got back, he’d show her the back of his hand, he would, to keep him waiting…

  He turned sharply at a sound outside the door. Two steps and he was at the door, jerking it open.

  “It’s about goddamn time—” he snarled, his gaze fixed on the heavily rouged blonde, until he noticed the large shadows behind her. With a gasp, he fell back as Bear ducked his head low to step through the doorway, followed by a burly man carrying a cudgel. They filled up the small room.

  “There ’e is, Bear, just like Oi told ye,” Rachel said.

  Bear dug into his into his breast pocket for a couple of coins and handed them to her.

  “Bitch!” Twitch spat, watching her fingers close into a greedy fist around the coins.

  She glared at him. “Oi’m a whore—Oi ain’t a bitch!”

  “Oi’m gonna kill ye—” Twitch let out a howl as the other man stepped forward and hit him on the shoulder with the cudgel. The pain drove him to his knees.

  Fingers clutched around the coins, Rachel gave him a disparaging look, then disappeared.

  He swallowed heavily. The tic on his eye pulsed erratically as his panic surged. Rachel’s betrayal was the least of his problems.

  “Oi know we shouldn’t ’ave taken the job last night. Stanley was the one ’oo wanted ter do it,” he sobbed, easily tossing his dearly departed friend to the hounds. “Oi never would ’ave! Oi swear on me mother’s grave! That’s why Oi told ’im that Oi wouldn’t do tonight’s job.”

  He was blubbering, unable to stop. “I said, nay, find someone else, cause Oi knew ye wouldn’t be pleased if Oi went off and worked without yer say-so again.”

  Bear’s eyes narrowed. “What job?”

  “The one at Vauxhall. ’E still wants the gentry mort.”

  “Kendra Donovan.”

  “Aye, aye! The bitch is attending some fancy-dress ball. Easy pickings. If she’s dead, it ain’t me fault!”

  * * *

  Kendra kept her hand in her pocket, her finger positioned around the trigger guard of the muff pistol. Carlotta finally stopped again and turned to face her. Her face was bone-white in the moonlight that penetrated the path. Her eyes were wide and dark.

  “I’m sorry,” Carlotta whispered.

  Inside her pocket, Kendra’s fingers tightened as a large shadow materialized behind Carlotta. The moonlight limned his heavy, fleshy features beneath the knit cap, and the pistol he had pointed at her.

  Even though she’d planned for this, had put herself out as bait, her mouth went dry and her ears buzzed like a swarm of angry mosquitos as she stared at the deadly muzzle. Deliberately, she drew in a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs. She exhaled slowly and shifted her eyes to Carlotta.

  “You’re not Charlotte, are you?”

  Carlotta tilted her head to study her. “No,” she finally said. “Sadly, I am not Charlotte.”

  “Who are you? How did you know all that information about Charlotte?” she asked.

  “Well, now… that’s a long story,” said a new voice from behind her.

  For the first time that evening, Kendra felt a jolt of surprise all the way down to her toes.

  The voice belonged to a familiar face.

  * * *

  Sam Kelly was settling down in front of the fire of the Pig & Sail, sipping his first hot whiskey of the evening, when a young urchin pushed himself into his line of sight.

  “Ye’re Mr. Kelly—the thief-taker—ain’t ye?”

  Sam huffed out an aggravated sigh. “I am Mr. Kelly. And somebody had better be dead if you are gonna be asking me ter give up me comfortable spot here. What’s this about?”

  “Bear wants ter see ye outside, if ye please.”

  “Bear?” Sam’s mouth sagged open at the mention of one of the most notorious crime lords in the whole of London Town.

  “Aye. ’E says it’s about some American wench.”

  “Kendra Donovan.” Sam was already hoisting himself to his feet. With some regret, he set his whiskey glass in front of a surprised man. “Enjoy,” he muttered, and made for the door. He paused briefly to reach into the pocket of his greatcoat for the pistol he carried. While he didn’t think Bear had sought him out to do him harm, it was always best to be prepared.

  The urchin had disappeared but there was a carriage several paces away and a coachman who looked like a cutthroat standing in front of the open carriage door. Sam approached the man. He hesitated, peering inside the cab where Bear sat on tufted leather cushions, the brass lamp casting a warm glow on his enormous frame.

  “What’s this about?” Sam demanded.

  “I got word that someone wants ter put a period in Kendra Donovan’s life tonight. Thought ye’d be interested in stopping her murder. Well?” Bear boomed out when Sam stared at him. “Are ye interested?”

  “I’m interested.”

  “Get in, then.”

  40

  The moonlight leached the color from the man, casting him in a silvery light, but Kendra knew his hair was bright red and his eyes were a brilliant blue.

  “I guess you’ve finished your work at the Yarboroughs,” she said.

  The Scotsman grinned the same cocky grin that he’d bestowed upon her the first time they’d met. His expression was affable as ever, despite the gun that he had pointed at her head.

  “Aye, lass. I have something more lucrative in me pocket.”

  Kendra did a quick mental review, the puzzle pieces shifting and falling into place. This was why Carlotta hadn’t needed to send messages or travel to meet her accomplice; her accomplice had been right next door all along, watching the Duke’s residence. Like the time he’d supposedly rescued her from Albion Miller. She should have realized something was odd then. The mason workers had been done for the day; there was no reason for the Scotsman to still be around.

  “Lucky for you that the Yarboroughs decided to renovate their house,” she murmured.

  “Aye, it was convenient. I almost got hired at the stables three doors down. I prefer mason work ter shoveling horse shit.”

  His associate laughed.

  Kendra said, “You must have been planning this for a long time.”

  “Well, now it’s hard to say. I began ter think about it when me ma died last October, but maybe the notion was put in me head before that, when I was in London in September. Looking back, I think you put the notion in me head, Miss Donovan.”

  She remembered the time. She and the Duke had traveled to London when they’d heard that Alec had been under suspicion for killing his former mistress. Now she shook her head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Tongues were wagging about the Duke’s ward, the brazen American. The gossipmongers suspected that the Duke was so indulgent with your peculiarities because you reminded him of his daughter.”

  “I still don’t understand—”

  “It got me ter thinking that if the Duke could be taken in by a chit that looked like his daughter, how would he react to someone who claimed ter be his kin? Seems ter me, he’d be just as indulgent.” He tapped his temple. “At least that was the beginning of an idea.”

  “Cam,” Carlotta plucked at his sleeve. “I should go back.”

  Kendra shot her a nasty look. “What’s your real name, anyway? I doubt it’s Carlotta.”

  Carlotta tilted her head as she regarded her. “Adelita.”

  “What’s your endgame, Adelita? Do you really think that His Grace is going to publicly declare that you are his daughter? There are men in Spain searching for your real identity right now.”

  “Aye, and they’re following the trail that we gave you,” Cam scoffed. “It’ll take them months, maybe even years, before they uncover
anything. By then, the Duke will announce that poor Charlotte has come back from the grave. You want ter know why? Because he wants ter believe it. It’s why he’s been so quick ter take her into the bosom of his family. He’s been treating her like a princess, proud ter show her off ter all of his friends.”

  “He did that because he’s a good man. Don’t mistake his kindness for him being a fool.” Still, Kendra’s stomach churned, recognizing a certain truth to the Scotsman’s words.

  “I’ll wager in three months, the swell will be throwing a ball ter introduce Charlotte ter society formally.”

  Kendra forced a shrug. “So what? He introduces Carlotta—Adelita—to society, and then he finds out the truth. If you think he’ll keep quiet to avoid the public humiliation of being duped, you don’t know him very well. He won’t continue the pretense.”

  Cam bared his teeth in a smile. “Aye, I suppose you’ve got the right of it. But I suspect he’ll have an accident at some point. Maybe sooner rather than later. No sense tempting fate, not with so much blunt on the line.”

  Kendra’s insides went cold at the thought of the Duke dying at the hands of this man. “You are going to kill the Duke of Aldridge? Are you crazy?”

  Even Carlotta was looking at him wide-eyed. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Plans change.” He shot her a look. “How could we know that he would accept your tale so readily? He wants his daughter back.” His mouth twisted. “Don’t worry, pet. You won’t have ter get your hands bloody.”

  Carlotta said nothing for a long moment, then she nodded. “I always did fancy jewels,” she said in a throaty murmur, smiling slowly, seductively, at the Scotsman.

  He laughed, leaning in to kiss her. “You’ll have all the baubles you can wear, me beauty.”

  Kendra shifted slightly, letting her gaze travel the shadows around them. Her movement drew Cam and his associate’s attention. Cam lifted the gun, as though to remind her of its presence.

  Carlotta pulled away. “I have to get back before I’m missed.” She shot a hard look at Kendra. “What are you going to do about her?”

  “We’ll be taking Miss Donovan for a boat ride tonight.”

  Kendra wondered if she’d be alive or dead by the time that she hit the water. Probably dead. But even if they tossed her out of the boat alive, she would have fifteen minutes, twenty tops, to battle the frigid waters of the Thames before hypothermia set in. Not that she was going to let it get that far. She drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly as her fingers tightened again around the gun in her pocket.

  Carlotta laughed softly and began walking. The darkness swallowed up her departing figure in seconds.

  “How did you find her?” Kendra asked.

  “I knew Adelita from the war. You might say I was her protector in Spain for a period of time. I thought of her immediately when I came up with the plan. She’s the right age and has the right coloring. Me aunt called Charlotte her dark beauty, went on about her raven hair and almost black eyes.”

  “Nanny MacTavish,” Kendra said slowly. “You’re Cam MacTavish.”

  “Cameron Armstrong. But MacTavish is me ma’s maiden name.”

  “Your aunt told you about Charlotte, her tapping three times, her doll and her mother’s perfume…”

  “Not exactly. I barely knew the woman. She left Shandwick when I was a bairn.”

  “Then how?”

  “When me ma died, I went home ter Shandwick ter settle things. Me da had died years ago and me sisters were married, so it was up ter me.” His lips twisted. “Ma never threw anything out. I found the letters her sister posted ter her over the years. She was so proud ter be the nanny for such a grand household as the Duke of Aldridge. Living it up in a castle. Made it sound like they ate off gold plates. And how she would go on about the lass!

  “She wrote to me ma about how her mistress was so clever ter have come up with a scheme ter comfort the child after her night terrors. Tapping three times. Telling her it was magic.”

  The other man shifted on his feet, as though bored by their conversation.

  Kendra kept her gaze on the Scotsman. “Just enough knowledge to convince the Duke that his daughter might have returned from the dead.”

  Cam grinned. “It was perfect. The only problem was you.”

  Suddenly, he moved forward, pressing the muzzle against her forehead. Kendra went very still, barely breathing. She had thought she had a little more time.

  He said softly, “You’re the one who sent Runners to Spain and kept quizzing her, trying to catch her in a lie. You were the one who was always cautioning the Duke, telling him ter wait until there was proof.”

  “I’m not the only one.”

  He ignored her. “His Grace listens ter you. With you gone, the Duke is going ter want his daughter around even more. Tragedy brings families together, you know.”

  “Which is why you tried to have me kidnapped last night.”

  “You’re surprisingly difficult ter kill.”

  With the cold muzzle pressed against her head, Kendra felt that she was only too easy to kill. She waited. There was no way she’d be able to draw her pistol before he squeezed his trigger.

  Suddenly, Cam eased back. Kendra was exhaling when he plunged his hand into her pocket, closing over her fingers around the muff pistol. “Let it go,” he said softly. He brought his weapon up to her head. “I won’t ask again.”

  She loosened her hand and allowed him to take the muff pistol out of her pocket.

  The roguish grin returned. “That’s another thing about having someone in the Duke’s household. You hear tales. You and this little pistol you carry around…”

  He dropped the muff pistol into his pocket, then patted her other pocket. He stepped back after determining it was empty. He regarded her with laughing eyes. “You know, for a clever lass, it was very foolish of you ter come out here alone.”

  Kendra arched a brow at the Scotsman. “Who says I’m alone?”

  41

  Sam was huffing by the time he arrived at the pavilion where the masquerade ball was being held. A handful of masked Zeuses, four Cleopatras, and two Julius Caesars crowded outside the door, sipping from gold cups. God’s teeth, how was he ever going to find Kendra Donovan in this crush when every reveler disguised themselves by wearing dominos or full-face masks? Sam didn’t even know what kind of costume the American had chosen.

  “You forgot your mask!” one of the Zeus’s told him as he started to push through.

  Without replying, he thrust his baton at the man.

  “Oh, bloody good show—a Bow Street Runner,” said the second Zeus. “Look, Stanford. He’s a Bow Street Runner!”

  “He still forgot his mask,” the first Zeus said.

  Sam’s teeth snapped shut to prevent him from saying something improper to his betters and he plowed through the crowd. Once inside, he stopped again, scanning the exotic creatures swirling around the room. He couldn’t tell if Kendra Donovan was among them or not. Had she already been spirited away to meet her fate?

  “Mr. Kelly?”

  He turned to face a masked man in Elizabethan garb. It took him a moment to recognize the rather bold nose and pale eyes of the Duke of Aldridge. Relief washed through him.

  “Your Grace, where is Kendra—Miss Donovan?”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Bea—ah, I have it on good authority that Miss Donovan is in danger tonight.” Sam decided to leave the crime lord’s name out of it. The fact that Bear had given him the information was bizarre enough to be distracting. “I wanted ter see her myself.” He surveyed the room. “You might need ter keep a close eye on her tonight, sir.”

  “The last I saw of my ward, she and Carlotta were stepping outside…” He also examined the merrymakers filling the room. “I don’t see her or Carlotta.”

  The Duke turned abruptly and strode toward the door. Sam hurried after him, pushing through the same drinking group. The Duke began, “I don’t�
��” but broke off as a small figure ran toward them from one of dark paths that crisscrossed the pleasure gardens.

  For a moment, Sam thought it was Kendra, but he realized that the woman was Carlotta when she drew near enough and spoke.

  “Your Grace, por favor…” She was breathing heavily. “You must come. It’s Miss Donovan. He has her. She’s in danger.”

  “Who?” the Duke asked sharply.

  Carlotta shook her head, already spinning away. The Duke and Sam barreled after her as she started up one of the darkened paths.

  They were fifteen yards in when they heard the shot.

  * * *

  Kendra had only a second to watch the confusion and surprise play out across her would-be attackers’ faces when Alec stepped into view between the trees, his flintlock pistol raised. Cam’s hireling let out a violent oath and reacted quicker than anyone could have anticipated, swinging his gun around and firing. The report was abnormally loud in the night air. Kendra was already reaching behind her for the second gun she’d bought earlier that afternoon and tucked into the waistband at the small of her back when Alec suddenly went down.

  The breath evaporated from Kendra’s lungs and her heart stopped. Terror like she’d never known before ripped through her. She whipped her gun around and fired. Her aim was off. Instead of hitting center mass, as she’d been trained, the bullet tore through the other man’s throat. Blood spewed forth like a geyser as the man did a cartwheel back before falling into the shrubbery.

  Cam let out a howl. His fist shot out, knocking the gun out of her hand with enough force that her fingers went numb. “Damn you! You’re dead!”

  Kendra believed it. Her heart slammed in her chest as she stared into the barrel of the pistol he held. Another shot rang out and Kendra couldn’t stop herself from flinching. But she watched a strange expression cross the Scotsman’s face. Even in the darkness, Kendra saw the ripped material and dark stain on the back of his coat as he fell forward. She looked at the man who’d been standing behind Cam, then kicked the Scotsman’s gun away, before leaping over the body to Alec.