by Jade Lee
She rushed forward, seeing that his hair was pulled askew, his eyes were wild, and he clutched a satchel as if his life depended on it.
“Ned, what has happened?”
“It’s all true. I went looking like Mr. Morrison said, and it’s all true!” This last ended on a wail loud enough to startle Tommy, who had been drowsing on her shoulder.
“Come inside. Tell me everything!”
“No! No! We have to go to the constable. Addicock found me. He knows what I have!” So saying, he jerked the satchel forward, but he didn’t release his grip on it.
“Is that proof?”
He nodded, though the motion was wild. “The marriage license from your Bible. Practice signatures. The fake will. Everything, but there’s something else. He’s going to do it to someone else, too!”
“What?”
“A baker with a young son. It’s terrible what he plans! And when I found out—”
Fear tightened Penny’s chest. “Oh, Ned, you didn’t confront him, did you?”
“Lord, no! I grabbed everything! Couldn’t let him do it. Not to somebody else. But he came back from lunch too soon and he saw me. Miss Shoemaker, he saw me!”
Ned’s fear was palpable and Penny fumbled with the keys to the shop. They had to get inside, out of the open. Finally she rammed the key in and twisted, unlocking the door.
“Inside,” she hissed.
Ned dashed inside, but once there he obviously didn’t know what to do. They had to go to the constable; that was certain. But she had Tommy in her arms and a damned bouquet of flowers, which she immediately dumped on a worktable. Bloody hell, where was everybody?
At the wedding, of course. And their new footman, Foster, had the day off. She and Ned were on their own. Damn! She’d just have to take Tommy with them. Juggling the boy, she turned to Ned.
“We’ll go to the constable now. You have all the proof in there?” she asked, gesturing to the satchel.
He nodded, but his eyes were frantic. “You don’t understand. He saw me take these! He followed me!”
Fear gripped her belly. “But you’ve been waiting outside the shop. He couldn’t have—”
“I ran, Miss Shoemaker. I ran faster than him, but he’s got a gun. I’ve seen it. He’s got a gun, and he said he’d kill me.” The boy was shaking with terror, and his fear was ratcheting up her own.
“We have to stay calm. You say you outran him? Does he know you’ll come here?”
Ned shook his head. “No.”
But at the exact same instant, a thick voice said, “Yes.”
She whirled around. The workroom door was open, and there stood Addicock, looking almost as wild as Ned. But only “almost” because the hand holding the gun appeared damn steady to her.
“Give over the sack, Ned,” he said calmly as he stepped inside. “No one needs to get hurt.”
Ned shook his head, and Penny could hear the way his breath had shortened into tight pants of panic. “You killed her parents! You stole her shop!”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Addicock snapped. “It was all him! He made me!”
“Who?” Penny asked. She didn’t really want to bring the man’s attention to her, but the question was startled out of her. “Who killed my parents?”
“The same bastard who will kill you if you don’t shut up. Now give me that bag, Ned!”
Ned’s eyes hopped between Addicock and Penny. Then he abruptly straightened. “No, I won’t! And it don’t matter anyway. Soon as I can, I’m going to the constable. I’m going to tell them everything!”
“You bloody idiot,” Penny groaned. This wasn’t the time for the boy to get noble. Not with a gun pointed at them! And Tommy still on her shoulder! “Give him the bag and swear you won’t say a word!”
Ned’s eyes practically bugged out. “What?”
She looked at Addicock, keeping her voice steady. “I’m going to set Tommy down now. He’s getting heavy and then we can work all this out.”
“Don’t move!” he snapped as he swung the gun in her direction.
She tried her best to smile reassuringly at him. She couldn’t get agitated. It would wake Tommy and that was the last thing they all needed: a screaming toddler in their midst. “I’m on your side here,” she lied. “I’ve got a good situation in this shop. Don’t want anything changing that.” Then she took a step to the pen they’d set up for Tommy in the workroom. “I’m just putting him down.” With luck, it would keep the child safe from whatever was about to happen.
She shifted the boy, settling him down in the pen. He stirred, but didn’t wake, his little mouth pursing as he found his thumb and began to suck. Penny spent the whole time holding her breath while her back prickled with awareness of the men—and the gun—right behind her. All three of them remained absolutely still, waiting to see if Tommy would drop into sleep. None of them wanted a child in the middle of this.
The boy settled, thank God, and Penny turned to face Addicock. Except the man was no longer alone. Slipping up silently behind him was their new footman, Foster. She did no more than open her mouth in shock, and then it was over. Foster pressed his own gun to the back of Addicock’s head and spoke low and menacing.
“Hard to miss killing a man at this distance,” he said. “Now stop waving that pistol around and give it here. You’ll wake the boy if it goes off.”
Addicock was frozen in terror, his body and his breath completely cut off. It was left to Foster to reach around and pull the gun out of the man’s hand. Easy enough to do, thank God, and in a minute Addicock was pushed hard against the wall so Foster could tie his hands tight behind his back with a rope.
Meanwhile, Ned collapsed into Tabitha’s chair, his breath escaping in a stuttering exhale. “Thank God. Thank God.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Thank you, Foster. I don’t know what possessed you to be here on your day off, but I am extremely grateful.”
The man flashed her a grin. “It weren’t my day off, actually. I was hired to watch you and the shop, and that’s what I did. Now, if you’ll give me that bag of proof, Ned, I’ll make sure it gets to the constable.”
Ned straightened, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “No one touches this but—”
“I’m a Bow Street Runner, boy. Hired on by Mr. Morrison. Now it suits me just fine if you come with me to see the constable. But whether you come or not, that bag of proof is coming with me now.”
Ned’s eyes widened. Likely Penny’s were just as huge. “You’re a Runner?” asked Ned.
“Hired by Samuel?” asked Penny.
The man nodded. “Owed him a favor,” he said by way of answer. “He saw me just before leaving town. Told me what was up, and I swore to watch you, miss. But I couldn’t find that Bill person. Hard to investigate while watching out for you.”
Finally, Penny’s knees gave out. She’d thought Samuel had abandoned her, but he’d found a way to keep her safe nonetheless. And if Ned really had proof just like he said, then everything was set right. The shop, the false will, everything would be straightened out.
“Have you heard anything from Samuel?” she asked, too afraid to voice her real thoughts: Was he safe? Was he in jail?
“Not a word. Sorry. But he’s a smart ’un. He’ll be back. Especially once he hears about what happened here.”
She straightened. “But how will he find out? How will you tell him?”
The man just shrugged. “Won’t tell him, but he’ll find out, never you fear. He’s a man who knows things. Especially when it’s important.” Then he grabbed Addicock and jerked him toward the door. “Come along, Ned. It’s a long walk to the constable’s and I mean to have a nice hot supper as soon as it’s done.”
So it was over. Foster took Addicock and Ned away, leaving her future if not assured, at least remarkably hopeful. Tommy was asleep. The dress shop was quiet. She had at least a couple hours before her in which to celebrate.
Instead, she dropped her head onto the worktable and sobbed.<
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Where was Samuel?
Chapter 24
Two days later the shop was busier than ever. The day after Francine’s wedding, they’d received news that Helaine, now Lady Redhill, would soon be returning from her honeymoon. Somehow that news leaked to the rest of the ton, and the number of appointments increased even without the lady home yet. Apparently, her notoriety brought in customers. With customers came new shoe orders, and Penny was quickly scheduled for the next three weeks for measuring and creating likes. Now she had to get an apprentice for sure, but she was too busy to search.
So it was that she was in the workroom, carving a block of wood, when a knock at the back door startled her. She glanced at Wendy, who was present today, stitching a dress with quick flicks of her wrist. The two women exchanged a shrug, and Penny went to answer it.
The man waiting on the opposite side had her breath catching in her chest in fear. He wasn’t a large man by any means. Foster was easily a couple stone heavier, but something about this man’s dark hair, slick smile, and slow nod of greeting made every inch of Penny’s body recoil.
She gasped and instantly took a step back. He didn’t seem surprised, and thankfully, he didn’t take advantage either. He simply stood there with a set smile on his very smooth face. It was Wendy who reacted, straightening up from her worktable with palpable anger.
“You have no right to be here!” she snapped as she rushed to Penny’s side.
He didn’t respond except to nod and bow almost insolently at the seamstress. But then he turned back to Penny. “I apologize for the intrusion, Miss Shoemaker, but I believe I have inadvertently wronged you. I am here to make amends.”
Penny frowned. His tone was kind, but the way Wendy was reacting made her very suspicious. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” she said as politely—and as coldly—as she could manage.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Damon Porter. I own a gambling den some miles from here.”
Wendy piped up. “He owns three gambling dens and most people call him Demon Damon.”
That’s when she remembered. He was the man who’d killed the footpad some weeks ago. The night Samuel had first brought her to the brothel. Mr. Porter looked different in the daylight, but he was definitely the one who’d thrown a knife through the footpad’s throat. Samuel had said he was a dangerous man and at the moment she believed it. Especially as his smile grew wider, as if he enjoyed his demonic nickname.
“Yes, well, men with debts will point at all sorts of devils so long as the finger never points to themselves.”
Penny straightened, finding her voice despite her memories. What she wouldn’t give to have Samuel beside her right now. “What has brought you to our back door, Mr. Porter?” she asked.
“It appears that a Mr. Addicock created a false will and trust and then sold your property out from under you.”
Penny straightened. “Yes, that’s true.”
“Well, he did such a thing so as to pay off a debt to me. The constable informed me of the illegal nature of his transaction, so I have taken steps to remedy his crime.”
Penny shuddered. The way he said “steps” gave her the chills. But as he appeared to be waiting for her reaction, she forced herself to whisper, “I don’t understand.”
He handed over a piece of paper. She took it slowly, looking down to see a great deal of legal language, which she couldn’t process with Wendy standing beside her radiating fury and Mr. Porter in front of her looking so bizarrely charming.
“It is the deed to your store. To the building and the land as should have been your inheritance from the very beginning.”
She gaped. That was all she could do. Just stare at him, and then down at the paper that still made no sense to her. It was Wendy who spoke, her voice trembling with some emotion that Penny couldn’t name.
“Why would you do such a thing?”
Mr. Porter flashed them both a warm smile. “Because that is what should have happened in the very beginning.”
Finally Penny found her voice. “But Cordwain is there. He and Jobby—”
“Have both been removed. I cannot speak to the state of your home. I am sure that there have been things broken or changed. I understand there was a fire in one of the rooms.”
Penny bit her lip, remembering the way all her things had been burned. “But he’s gone now? It’s mine again?”
Mr. Porter held out a key. “It is yours. Mr. Cordwain and his associates have been told to keep away, and I believe they will listen.” He flashed a smile that showed his teeth. “I have some influence with them, I think.”
She took the key and held it in her hand. She felt the weight and size of it, and in that moment her world shifted. It settled back into a familiar place. Was it possible? Was it truly over? “And Mr. Addicock—”
“Is dead.”
She gasped, as did Wendy beside her.
“I apologize for speaking so bluntly. It appears remorse hit Mr. Addicock in the late night hours. He was found dead this morning.”
“Dead?” she whispered. She didn’t have any idea how she felt about that. Certainly she hated the man. But…dead? He kept claiming that he wasn’t the one who had murdered her parents. Foster and the constable both had promised her that they would find out the truth of a great many things from Addicock once the man was incarcerated. Now he was dead?
“Yes. Quite dead, I’m afraid.” Then he flashed a rueful smile. “Or not afraid since surely that is the man’s just deserts. After everything he did to you and young Tommy? Let us all pray that he made peace with God before he died.”
Penny nodded because that was what good Christian women did. But her mind was still reeling.
“But what about my parents?” she whispered. “He was supposed to tell us who killed my parents.”
“As to that question, I believe I have an answer. Tell me, do you perhaps recognize this?” He pulled a simple bracelet from his pocket, holding it aloft such that nicked links of gold caught the light.
“Mama’s bracelet!” Penny cried, rushing forward.
He handed it to her and once again, she felt the weight of it, heard the clink of the metal, and for a brief second she believed her mother was there with her, as if that horrible night had never happened.
“Papa gave this to her at Christmas when I was eleven. She wore it every day after that. I never thought I’d see it again.”
Mr. Porter cleared his throat. “Do you perhaps recall that I was pursuing a thieving ring?”
“Yes,” she whispered, wishing again she could forget what she’d witnessed that night.
“This was in their treasure. I made some inquiries and guessed it might be your mother’s.”
“Everyone knew it was hers,” she said, holding it as if it were the most delicate thing.
“And now it is yours,” he said.
“So, my parents were killed by footpads? It had nothing to do with Addicock? What about that man named Bill?”
Mr. Porter shrugged. “There was a man named Bill in the thieving ring. Bill Worsley.”
Her hands tightened into fists and the bracelet bit into her palm. “Where is he? This Bill Worsley.”
“Dead, Miss Shoemaker. And unable to harm you ever again.”
She blinked. Another villain dead, both her mysteries solved, and her property returned to her. She should be happy, but instead she just felt overwhelmed. And inside, there was that soul-deep longing for Samuel. He would understand this.
“But surely this is a happy day,” Mr. Porter pressed. “You have your home back. Your life. You should be celebrating!”
“Yes,” she said, though her heart wasn’t in her words. This was too much, too fast. And Samuel wasn’t here to explain it to her. Thankfully, the thought of him was enough to settle her mind onto some very solid facts. First off, that this was indeed excellent news, but it wasn’t her life.
She straightened and was gratified to hear that her voice rang strong. “This is goo
d news, Mr. Porter, and I thank you for arranging it. But my life was never in question. I have friends, family—” An absent lover. “With or without my home, I would have been fine.” She said the words and finally believed them with her whole heart. Thanks to Samuel’s efforts and her own strength, she and Tommy would be fine.
“Of course,” he said.
“But…” she continued, lifting the deed to the shop in her hand as well as her mother’s bracelet, “I thank you for this. You have been very kind.”
He flashed a grin that was all teeth. And even odder, it wasn’t aimed at her but at Wendy. “I can see that you are indeed an extraordinary woman, Miss Shoemaker. I am pleased to have some small part in restoring your home back to you.” And with that, he gave them both another small bow and left.
Penny watched him go, keeping an eye trained on Wendy. There was something between those two. Wendy made no attempt to hide her glare as the man sauntered away, a jaunty whistle filling the air. Penny waited until he turned the corner out of sight before turning to her friend. She meant to ask for an explanation, but she never got a chance. The seamstress was pulling on her cloak.
“Wendy?”
“I need some more thread. Might take me a bit. Got to match the color exactly right.”
Penny knew a lie when she heard it. Wendy had thread of every color and make already at her station. But the woman’s face was pale and her jaw was set. Whatever was going on would not be discussed now. So Penny didn’t argue. She just watched as her friend gathered a swatch of fabric with shaking hands. Then when Wendy turned for the door, Penny stepped into her path.
“You have all stood by me these last weeks,” she said. “Without all of you, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Wendy’s expression cleared. “Don’t be silly. You would have managed without us. Didn’t you handle things all those weeks alone before you came to work here?”
Penny shook her head. “I was at my wit’s end, and you know it.” Then she boldly touched the woman’s arm. “I hope you know that I would do anything for you. All of you. You need only ask.”