At this hour, the market and wharf were at a lull, the quiet period between the closing of the shops and the arrival of the next day’s goods. As Livy patrolled the shore with Ben, the two of them dressed as a working-class couple, she observed nothing out of the ordinary. The wharf was dotted with empty crates and barrels, and boats were departing for the day. A pair of mudlarks scavenged along the water in search of overlooked treasures. At a sagging blacking factory to the right of the pier, weary-faced workers were filing out, their empty lunch pails clanking.
Waves lapped against the shore. Seabirds cried, mourning the setting sun.
To Livy, it felt like the quiet before the storm.
“No sign of Bollinger or our villain,” she said under her breath.
“Patience, little one.” Ben lit a lamp, his gaze on the short pier that reached out into the Thames. “It has only turned dark. If this is the place for the exchange, we will see them soon. There is no way we will miss them…not with the Angels on the watch.”
She glanced at the top of the stairs where Glory and Fi, posed as flower girls at a lamplit barrow, stood at the ready. Glory gave a discreet thumbs-up, the signal that all was clear.
Livy tilted her head at Ben. “You seem to be taking this remarkably well.”
“Taking what?”
“The fact that I’m involved in danger and intrigue.”
“As the proverb goes, better to bend than break.” His eyes turned serious. “At any rate, I’ve realized that your obedience was never what I truly wanted. What I desire is your love, the kind that never fails or falters. Everything else is immaterial.”
“You have my heart,” she vowed. “Forever and longer.”
His gaze smoldered. “I look forward to a lifetime of adventures with you, little queen. Especially in bed.” His wickedness heated her cheeks. “That is the one place where I think you do not mind being biddable, hmm?”
She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I do not mind at all…sir.”
“Christ, you little minx.” His voice was edged with laughter and arousal. “Do not tempt me when we have a mission to accomplish.”
A fog came in, swirling over the dark water as they continued their surveillance. Their diligence was rewarded an hour later when a carriage pulled up near the top of the stairs, close to Glory and Fi’s barrow. A cloaked figure emerged, accompanied by a manservant bearing a lamp.
“Bollinger,” Livy whispered.
Dousing his lamp, Ben pulled her behind a stack of crates at the edge of the wharf. “Let’s keep out of sight until we see what he’s up to.”
Bollinger and his servant descended the steps at a rapid clip. They went to the end of the pier, scanning the water. Through the heavy veil of mist, Livy glimpsed the viscount pacing. A few minutes later, a gleaming mermaid cut through the fog. The figurehead was followed by the rest of the boat, a sleek vessel that came to a stop in front of Bollinger. Two men vaulted from the deck and moored the boat. They tipped their caps at Bollinger as he boarded, his footman behind him. The pair disappeared into the boat’s cabin.
Twisting her head, Livy saw Fiona and Glory heading down the steps. They’d detached their skirts, moving with unhindered stealth in the trousers they’d worn beneath. Unhooking her own skirts and silently thanking Mrs. Q for her innovative designs, Livy was ready to join her friends.
“Time to go in,” she said.
Ben leaned in and kissed her hard. “Let us finish this once and for all.”
They met with the other Angels, the fog giving them cover. Glory and Fiona went in first, taking the brutes on the dock by surprise. One of the men got off a shout of warning before Glory downed him with a swift kick to the gut. Footsteps and voices rumbled from the ship, two more brutes emerging.
Livy took on one of them, Ben the other. She dodged a punch, going in low and landing one of her own in her foe’s midsection. He straightened and flashed a rotted smile.
“That all you got?” he taunted. “You ’it like a girl.”
Glory sailed through the air, her foot planting in his chest, sending him sprawling.
“We certainly do,” Glory spat, then turned to Livy. “Fi and I will manage things here. You and Hadleigh go capture the villain.”
Livy saw that Ben had felled his opponent, and the two of them vaulted onto the boat. They saw Bollinger on the deck: he was gripping a large valise, as was his manservant behind him. They were blocking the way to the cabin.
“H-Hadleigh?” Bollinger’s features froze with shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Putting an end to the Devil’s Bliss,” Ben said flatly. “The drug has led to the death of multiple men, and you could be next if you don’t leave those bags and get off the boat.”
Bollinger’s throat bobbed. “Surely you don’t mean to cross Master Fong,” he said hoarsely. “I just saw him, and he’ll kill us all—”
“Get out of our way,” Livy snapped. “Or we will make you.”
To show him she meant business, she took out her pistol.
Bollinger paled, gesturing at his footman. “Leave the bags. We’re getting out of here.”
As the two scurried off, Livy followed Ben to the cabin. The ship was eerily quiet, her heart thundering as they took the creaky steps down to the main berth. Reaching the door, Ben cocked his pistol, and she did the same. He pushed open the door, his firearm held at the ready…
No one was inside. The room had a bunk in one corner, cupboards along two walls, and a large table at its center. A pyramid of red snuffboxes sat on the table’s surface. Going over to the cupboards, Ben opened them, revealing an apothecary shop’s worth of powders and liquids upon the shelves.
“The makings of the Devil’s Bliss,” Livy breathed. “But where is our villain?”
She gazed over at the bed, at the black wig and costume laid atop it.
I just saw him, and he’ll kill us all…
She and Ben looked at each other.
“Bollinger,” they said.
They raced back up to the deck in time to see Bollinger and his man running down the pier.
“Angels!” Livy shouted. “Stop Bollinger! He’s Fong!”
She heard the affirmatives of her partners as she and Ben sprang onto the wharf. Fiona took aim and fired. Her shot whizzed past Bollinger’s shoulder, forcing him to swerve away from the steps. As Fi reloaded, Glory got off a shot, keeping Bollinger away from the steps. With his servant at his heels, he headed toward the nearest building…the blacking factory. He shot at the door, kicked it open, and the pair disappeared inside.
Moments later, the Angels and Ben arrived at the factory entrance.
“Glory and Fi, secure the perimeter,” Livy said. “Don’t let them escape.”
“Right-o.” Glory reloaded her pistol and put out her free hand.
Fi put her hand on top, Livy following suit.
“Sisters first will see us through!”
Livy parted from her friends and followed Ben into the building. Wall sconces cast a dim glow over the large square room, the air pungent with the smell of boot polish. The building was four stories high, a rickety stairwell winding upward at the center of the room. Floorboards squealed overhead, dust sprinkling from the ceiling. As Livy stepped cautiously forward, something scurried over her foot.
Rats. Ew.
“Stay behind me,” Ben said in a low voice. “I hear them on the floor above.”
She and Ben crept to the stairwell. He held his pistol out as he mounted the steps, and she did the same. She caught a movement on the next floor. “Watch out!”
At her warning, Ben dove forward. The bullet hit the banister where he had been seconds earlier, sending splinters of wood flying.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
He sprinted up the steps, with her at his heels. They chased Bollinger and his brute all the way up to the top floor. At the landing, the servant flew at Ben, tackling Ben to the ground. Livy spotted Bollinger a few feet away, his pistol a
imed at the fighting men. She shot first, Bollinger letting out a cry as her bullet drove the pistol from his hand. His weapon skidded through the wide gap between the railing’s spindles and plunged over the edge, the loud thump echoing from four stories below.
Livy sprinted over to face Bollinger. “Give up. We have you surrounded.”
“I don’t think so.” He drew out a knife, his boyish features as menacing as the glinting edge. “I have no problem getting through you…by any means necessary.”
He attacked, his blade coming at her in a lethal arc. She dodged and spun, slamming her elbow into his ribs. He howled with pain but came at her again. This time she went low, kicking out and knocking him off his feet. He landed on his back, his blade skittering from his grasp.
She kicked the weapon aside and came toward him, fists raised.
Moaning, he said, “Bloody hell, I give up…”
“You should have done so in the first place,” she said.
She glanced over at Ben, making sure he didn’t need her help, and that was her mistake. Bollinger leapt up with startling speed, plowing into her with vicious force. She hurtled backward through the air. Her spine hit the railing, and a loud crack filled her ears. Suddenly, she was falling into space. She reached out wildly, her fingers somehow grabbing onto the edge of the floor. She held on desperately, dangling four stories above the ground, unable to pull herself up.
She was afraid to move, to even cry for help.
“Hold on, Livy. I’m coming!”
Ben’s voice reached her like a lifeline. Reminded her of everything that she had to fight for. She concentrated on following his command, battling gravity’s powerful pull with everything she had left. She heard shouts and thumps and didn’t know if seconds or hours passed as she clung on. As her fingers began to slip, Ben was there. He grabbed her wrists and hauled her to safety, dragging her away from the edge.
“You’re safe.” His arms closed around her like a vise. “I’ve got you.”
She clung to him, drawing deep breaths until her tremors subsided.
When she was sufficiently recovered, she peered around his shoulder. The servant lay unconscious on the ground. And Bollinger…he was lying on his back as well. His eyes were open, his blade protruding from his chest.
“He grabbed his knife and tried to kill me. We fought. I won,” Ben said flatly.
“Are you all right?” she whispered.
He stared at her. “You were dangling four stories above the ground, and you’re asking me if I am all right?”
She gave him a shaky smile. “Thank you for saving me. Again.”
“I had no choice.” He tucked a loose tendril behind her ear. “Since you told me there was no longer a debt between us, I had to find a new way to bind you to me.”
“Wouldn’t marriage vows suffice just as well?” she said with a muffled laugh.
“With you, they will.” The teasing light left his eyes, replaced by heart-fluttering intensity. “I love you, Livy, and I’m ready to start our happily ever after.”
“I want that more than anything,” she whispered.
As their lips met in a tender kiss that heralded new beginnings, the voices of Angels—Fiona and Glory, that was—floated through the building.
39
Three days later, Ben was getting ready to call upon Livy and the Strathavens, who’d returned from Scotland, when Beatrice arrived unexpectedly. He received his sister in the drawing room. Dressed in a gown that matched her eyes, she was as beautiful and remote as always. As they drank tea in painful silence, he racked his brain for some way to break the tension.
He had been planning to call upon her. He’d put it off because he hadn’t known what he would say. He’d feared that the visit would play out the way it always did…the way it was doing so now.
He said awkwardly, “How are Murray and the children?”
“They are fine.” She took a breath. “But I didn’t come for chitchat. The truth is…I am here to apologize.”
Ben assumed that she’d been reading the papers. Since Bollinger’s death, the police had started conducting an investigation based on the testimony and evidence that Ben had provided. They’d brought Stamford in for questioning, and he had sung like a bird. His account corroborated the theory of events Ben and the Angels had cobbled together.
Masquerading as Fong, Bollinger had contacted Longmere, the most impressionable of the group. Longmere had recruited the others, who were all desperate for money…and for the thrill of the forbidden. Bollinger had read his cronies like a book, using the guise of a “mystical Chinaman” and clandestine games to further entice the Horsemen into doing his bidding. Stamford recalled the group’s excitement over the arrival of the riddle with the delivery places; Bollinger had been the one to solve it when the others failed to do so.
After learning that two of his clients—Baron Winford and John Hagan—had died because of the drug, Longmere had begun to panic. He’d told the group he wanted out and was found dead shortly after.
Before his death, Longmere had shared his suspicions with Stamford: he thought all was not what it seemed with the mysterious Fong. The drug supplier knew too much about the group…as if he were an insider. After Longmere’s demise and the death of one of his own clients, Stamford got cold feet and tried to distance himself from the group. He claimed that he had no idea that the Devil’s Bliss was lethal and that he would have never gotten involved if he’d known.
The papers speculated that Stamford, Thorne, and Edgecombe might be tried for conspiracy to commit murder. Whatever happened legally, the men were socially ruined. The papers also reported on Ben’s role in the case; apparently, a source within the Metropolitan Police had labelled his efforts as heroic. Ben avoided the limelight as much as possible, especially since he couldn’t share it with the truly deserving heroines. Lady Fayne had asked him to keep her group out of it; to protect the reputation of Livy and the other Angels, he’d agreed.
To his sister, Ben said, “I understand why you thought what you did. Given my past, your assumption was not unfair.”
“It was unfair of me to judge you by your past actions,” Beatrice insisted. “I should have forgiven you long ago, Hadleigh.”
“What I did was unforgivable,” he said quietly.
He had come to accept his past. He’d also realized that, while he would always regret his mistakes, he did not have to carry their burden into his future. He had atoned as much as he could. He could make the choice to not let his history define his future.
“What happened was a tragedy not only for me, but for our family. Everything fell apart for us Wodehouses—including you—and I was too wrapped up in my own pain to see that.” Shaking her head, Bea said, “You were a young man, Hadleigh, and although your quest for vengeance was wrong, I think I understand some of your motivation. You felt you had failed me; by seeking revenge on Griggs, you thought you were protecting my honor.”
Ben swallowed. “What I did was still beyond the pale.”
“I don’t disagree. But the fact that you acted out of love makes a difference. And I know this because I have recently wronged you, for much the same reason.” Bea looked at him with troubled eyes. “I spoke with Livy yesterday.”
“You did?” he said warily.
He and Livy hadn’t yet made their relationship public. In fact, that was his purpose in calling upon Strathaven today: he intended to ask for Livy’s hand. He hoped that his friend would approve the match…and not demand to meet him at dawn.
“You needn’t look so surprised,” his sister said with a hint of wryness. “It is obvious that the two of you have, ahem, a special bond. I knew she would answer my questions in a way you would not. And she did. She revealed that during your mission to uncover this drug enterprise, you were drugged. That you’d nearly died.” Bea gripped her hands together in her lap. “And I believe I am the cause of that.”
Ben angled his head. “I don’t follow.”
“The
last time we spoke, I did not express my concern in the best way.” Bea bit her lip. “But I was worried about you…and so I did what I thought was right at the time. I went to Bollinger.”
Ben stilled. “For what purpose?”
“Of your former cronies, he seemed like the most harmless one. I appealed to him to release you from the group. I told him that you had worked hard to give up your bad habits and that I was afraid of what a relapse might lead to.” Her throat worked. “I told him that I…I didn’t want to find you someday floating in the Thames.”
So that is where Bollinger got the idea to get rid of me in that fashion.
Aloud, Ben said, “It is not your fault, Bea. Put it out of your head.”
“I cannot.” Her eyes glimmered. “In trying to protect you, I inadvertently compromised your brave undertaking and caused you great harm…”
He crossed over, sitting beside her on the settee. He took her hands in his.
“You were trying to help,” he said. “I am fortunate indeed to have an older sister who cares enough to do so.”
“I do care, Ben.” She gave him a squeeze. “I always have, and I do not know why it took me this long to tell you.”
“We Wodehouses are not the most expressive lot.”
They smiled at each other, the healing power of forgiveness needing no other words.
After the moment passed, Bea said, “May I offer a word of advice?”
“I would welcome it,” he said sincerely.
“Since Livy was a little girl, she has always seen the best in you. She still does.” Bea gave him a sisterly look. “A woman like that does not come along often.”
“I know.” He was damned grateful for the gift he’d been given. “I have an appointment with Strathaven shortly. Although I wouldn’t blame him for turning down my suit; Livy deserves a better man.”
Olivia and the Masked Duke Page 30