But Sarah continued to evade.
"I believe the relationship between Alec Black, the Earl of Stryden, and myself is one of the strictest professionalism-"
"Oh, please, darling, you are fooling no one. But if this is the line you are going to carry, I shall not be bothered with it," Jane said, leaving Richard at the door as she swept into the room, taking a seat on the sofa before the vacant fireplace. "We have much more important matters to discuss at this moment." Jane busied herself with the tea things that littered the small table in the middle of the seating arrangement before looking at Nora. "Such as what on earth are you going to do when this is all over, Miss Quinton?"
Nora swallowed, no answer coming to her mind.
~
Nathan avoided two more prostitutes, a man who mistook him for a prostitute, and two pickpockets. He found the stairs in the back, covered by a worn, red velvet curtain on gold hoops. He pushed the curtain aside and tried the first step. The board sagged dangerously but did not snap in two. Taking that as a good sign, Nathan deftly climbed the stairs avoiding ominous stains and obvious holes in the wood.
The second floor smelled worst than the first. Nathan covered his mouth with his hand and willed his stomach to settle. A breeze twisted sneakily around his face, and he looked into the dimness to find its source. An open window was just to the left. Nathan dove for it, sticking his head into the darkening evening sky and sucked in gulps of breath.
He really wanted a bath.
Alec was going to have to burn his clothes.
The door behind him opened, and Nathan spun around. A guttersnipe staggered out and right into Nathan. Nathan pushed him off before toppling through the window. He looked back out the window to the ground below. A large pile of garbage was just below the window, which wouldn't have hurt had he actually fallen out. But there were rotting wooden crates just to the left that would have hurt very much. Nathan looked away.
A woman had appeared in the open doorway.
"Are ye next then?"
Nathan felt his stomach heave again.
"No, ma'am, I am not." He bowed to her and went to move away.
"Who are ye callin' 'ma'am,' ye snobby cad!" She began to move out of the doorway, swinging her large, unrestrained bosom at him. Nathan feinted to his right. Then someone grabbed him, and a door suddenly shut in his face.
Nathan spun around, and Samuel was grinning at him.
"What?" Nathan asked.
"You look silly dressed like that." Samuel pointed at his garb.
"I suppose I do," he said, then stepped forward and scooped the boy up, pressing him tightly against him.
He felt Samuel stiffen slightly before relaxing. The boy did not embrace Nathan in return, but he did not push him away.
So Nathan held on.
Eventually Alec cleared his throat. "Did that seem too easy to anyone else?"
"They wanted it that way," Samuel said, his voice muffled against Nathan's shoulder.
Nathan reluctantly set him down.
"I was just a tool to get all of your attention," he said, straightening his shirt carefully.
"I was told to stay out of it," Nathan said.
"I know you were. That was a trick."
Nathan frowned. "Fabulous."
"Perhaps we should get out of here first. Discuss later." Alec went to the door and popped his head into the hallway.
Nathan studied Samuel. "Are you all right?"
Samuel nodded. "Are you?"
Nathan nodded.
"Let's go," Alec said.
Nathan steered Samuel out first.
"Does anyone know how we get out of here?" Samuel asked.
"The back door?" Alec offered.
"Where is the back door?" Samuel asked.
Alec stopped, and Samuel walked into him.
Nathan looked up. Two beasts loomed at the other end of the hall. Nathan had to look up to see their faces, surrounded by greasy beards filled with food particles. They had their fists clenched, their fat hands looking like small roasts at the end of logs. Nathan stepped in front of Samuel.
"Which one of ye called me woman 'ma'am'?" one of the beasts spoke.
"He did." Alec pointed at Nathan without hesitation.
Nathan was still dressed as a gentleman, which did not work in his favor at all. One of the beasts stepped forward.
Nathan spun and grabbed Samuel.
"Pardon me, mate," he said and tossed Samuel out the window.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Samuel had never been thrown out of a window.
And he definitely had never been thrown into a pile of garbage.
His fingers squished into what had probably been a meat pie and maybe some neeps and tatties. He pulled his hand away and slid down the pile of muck.
His shoes hit the cobblestone sending sharp staccatos ricocheting down the alley. He turned around and looked up at the window. He could not see anything. And worse he could not hear anything.
Samuel began to worry.
It was full dark now, and he shivered in his thin shirt and short pants. He backed up against the building opposite The Four of Clubs. He still could not see into the window, and there was no sound to tell him what was happening. He squatted against the building, trying to absorb some heat from the bricks and waited.
Samuel froze there, squatting by the gaming hell and waiting.
And Alec and Nathan still had not come out of The Four of Clubs.
He had to think. Panic was not going to help. He had to move, or he would be a block of ice in no time. So he stood, running his hands down his legs to work some initial circulation back into them. He walked around the back of the building, side to side.
There was no back door. A single basement window was caked solidly with grime. There were no first floor windows at the rear or back half of the sides of the building. There was only the second floor window from which he had been thrown.
He could go for help. Except he did not know where he was. He could hail a hack. But he doubted a hack would stop for a nine-year-old boy who looked like he had just rolled in the garbage because he had just rolled in the garbage.
He must go in the front door. He had to find Nathan and his brother. They were here for him, so it was up to him to find them.
Samuel squeezed between the buildings and watched the front door of The Four of Clubs from the alley. Two gentlemen in fine overcoats were going inside. Samuel waited, watching the end of the street, waiting for just the right person to walk by.
Ten minutes later, that person did. He was enormous and rolled more than walked down the street. As he passed the alley, Samuel slipped out behind him, hoping the man did not smell him. Then Samuel crossed his fingers hoping the man was going to The Four of Clubs. His luck held, and the man pounded a jiggly fist on the door. It creaked open, words were exchanged, and the man moved inside. Samuel was right behind him and then darted to the side once he was in the smoke filled front hall of the hell.
The haze of smoke hung just above his head, making the way clear for him to move through the crowd. He was almost through when someone grabbed his arm. Samuel whirled with his fist up. It was a boy smaller than he, so he dropped his fist immediately.
The boy snarled, showing stained teeth. "This 'ere's me turf. Ye best be stayin' out o' it."
Samuel tipped his head. "I beg your pardon."
The boy snarled again and sauntered off, hitching up his baggy pants. Samuel watched him go, feeling sad for the boy. He turned back and continued to the far wall. He found the stairs and ran up them, but the hallway was empty when he reached it. New dark puddles were on the floor, looking suspiciously like blood. Samuel hoped it was not Nathan's blood.
He went back down the stairs and ran along the length of the wall. There was a small door beside the bar, but people were moving in and out, carrying trays of food. He watched and studied their movement. When there was a break, he dashed through the door.
And found the kitchens sme
lled worse than the garbage.
There were two large counters around which a skinny man cut slabs of meat. There were others milling around with empty trays. Everyone was talking at each other. Samuel was not sure if anyone was listening.
There was a blackened doorway to the right, and Samuel edged toward it. It was just a pantry stocked with smelly cheese. Samuel eased back behind some bags of grain, watching the people grumbling about one thing or another. And that was why he did not see the stairs before he fell down them.
But the landing was soft because he landed on Nathan, who grunted with the impact.
Samuel stood up quickly, apologizing. "I am so sorry, Nathan. Are you all right?"
But Nathan did not look all right. He had his eyes shut as black patches were forming all over his face. Blood was dried in a pool by his nose and mouth. Samuel got on his knees.
"Nathan, can you hear me? Nathan, are you all right? Nathan, are you alive?"
Someone else answered with a moan. Samuel looked over to see the Earl of Stryden in pretty much the same shape. He moved over to him.
"Mister...My l-" Samuel stopped, realizing he did not know the gentleman's proper name. "Alec, are you all right?"
There was no response this time.
Samuel was scared. A sudden burst of noise from above had him cowering back toward Nathan. He watched the man's chest rise and fall, became mesmerized by its movement. Nathan's eyes never opened. Samuel lay down next to him, curling into his warmth.
And then Samuel did something he had never done.
He cried.
~
"They should have been back by now."
Richard was talking to the empty fireplace again in the drawing room of Stryden Place. He could not remember what he had eaten for supper or what had been supper. He only recalled that his sons had left five hours before and should have returned three hours ago.
"They should have been back by now," he repeated going to sit in one of the chairs by the sofa only to get up and pace a few moments later.
Jane sat on the sofa, one arm around Sarah and the other around Nora. Both women looked like they could break at the softest of breezes.
Richard walked to the window.
They should have been back by now. This was the only thought moving through his mind at that moment.
He went out into the hall to the front door. He stood on the front stoop listening to the sounds of the night. The air was cold, and he could see his breath. There was scant traffic on the street at this hour. Members of the ton would already be at the evening's festivities they had planned to attend and would not yet be returning home. No one had yet to return to Stryden Place.
He went back to the drawing room, shutting the door harder than he had to, and rang for Reynolds. The butler appeared before the last peal died.
"Your grace?"
"Have my horse fetched," Richard said. He turned to the women. "I am going for help, and then I am going after them. No one is to leave this house, is that understood?"
The direction was only aimed at one lady, and that one lady knew it. Jane nodded in acknowledgement.
"Good," he said and strode out of the library to get his coat and hat.
The streets were nearly silent as he rode across town into the heart of Bloomsbury. The man he sought was of such a reputation as to be useful in going to such a gaming hell as the Four of Clubs. Upon reaching Amesbury Boarding House where the man in question rented a suite of bachelor's quarters, Richard tied up his horse and made his way inside the building.
Mr. Matthew Thatcher answered his knock in bare feet and no collar. Seeing as how it was ten o'clock on a Tuesday night, Richard did not scold him for the impropriety. He was also generous enough to give him a little leeway when it came to polite society as Mr. Thatcher was newly arrived from America. Some things had to be forgiven.
"Sorry to bother you, Thatcher, but I have a problem," he said by way of introduction, pausing far enough inside the door to allow Matthew to close it for propriety's sake. Thatcher often had the look of a supremely bored hound about his face, and tonight was no exception.
"Do I have time to get my boots on?" he asked.
Richard nodded. "It is rather a complicated tale. I think it best if we got on our way, and I shall explain then."
"Whatever suits you," Thatcher said, already grabbing up coat and hat to follow Richard back into the night.
Richard explained the situation to Matthew Thatcher along the way, giving only enough detail to complete the job at hand. Thatcher only sometimes worked for the War Office, and Richard was reluctant to provide too much information should Thatcher inadvertently become a liability.
The Four of Clubs looked as awful as Richard thought it would look. He was suddenly even more glad with his choice to fetch Matthew Thatcher than ever. Thatcher was a private investigator of sorts by trade, and Richard knew he could trust him.
"Any plan, your grace?" Thatcher asked.
"Walk in, guns blazing. Is that not how you Americans do it?" Richard asked in reply.
"Yeah, that is usually how it goes. Should I have brought a gun?"
"Probably."
"Well, perhaps next time."
Thatcher slid down from his horse. He dropped the reins in the street and looked back at Richard.
"Stay," he said and walked away toward The Four of Clubs.
Richard did not know if Thatcher meant that last command for him or the horse. Regardless, he dismounted, hailing a passing hack as he did so. He tied his horse to the back of the carriage and waited. He stomped his feet in the cold and blew on his hand. Thatcher's horse repeated the gesture behind him. Richard raised an eyebrow at the animal.
Thatcher had been gone for nearly seven minutes. Richard had watched two questionable pairs of gentleman exit the gaming hell and three pairs enter. The establishment seemed to be doing a fair amount of business that evening. Richard waited, hoping his sons would be the next pair of questionable gentlemen to come through the door.
And then they were.
Richard went forward, approaching Nathan first as he carried a bundle in his arms. He was not surprised to find that it was Samuel, huddled into Alec's fine coat. He carried the boy to the hack and set him inside.
"I will take you home now," Richard said, before getting out of the carriage. He faintly heard Samuel repeat the word "home."
Nathan and Alec crawled into the hack but not before Richard noted their various cuts and bruises. What they had encountered inside the gaming hell was surely not at all what they had expected.
Richard turned to shake Thatcher's hand.
"I owe you now, Matthew."
"Put it on my tab," Thatcher said, then mounted his horse and disappeared into the blackness.
Richard got into the hack with his boys.
~
Nora had endured eighteen hours of mind numbing, fist clenching, body ripping labor to bring Samuel into the world.
That pain came nowhere near to what she was feeling now.
And if that pain did not end soon, she was going to die from it.
No one spoke. Sarah was near to ripping apart the needlepoint cushion on the sofa. Jane had her head thrown back on the chair, her eyes closed. Nora stared out the window, but the darkness only cast her own reflection back until a hackney blotted it out as it pulled up to the curb in front of the house.
Nora ran from the drawing room. She pulled up her skirts far beyond propriety and ran. She was out the front door and down the stoop just as Nathan was coming out of the hack, her son in his arms. She only took a moment to notice the terrible condition he was in before she threw herself at both of them, wrapping them with the force of the pain she had been experiencing only moments earlier. Nathan awkwardly put one arm around her, holding onto Samuel with the other, and squeezed them all until breath became something to fight for.
"Do not ever scare me like that again," Nora said.
Nathan squeezed harder.
Alec had seen Nora fly down the stairs. Had seen the length of stocking exposed from the height to which she had hiked her skirts to get that momentum. Had seen the emotion that she now used to embrace the two people who meant so much to her. He felt worse than ever, and it was not because of the damage to his body.
He stepped down from the carriage and started to the door. And Sarah crashed into him. He reeled, catching his balance at the last moment. Sarah crushed him, and he had never felt anything so wonderful. But then she pushed away and started yelling at him.
"You scared me, Alec Black, and I will not stand for it."
She pulled back her fist and swung at him. She was crying though, and her tears blinded her aim. Alec thanked God himself because he had been on the receiving end of one of Sarah's blows more than once. Now he grabbed the wobbling fist and drew his wife back against him, letting her head fall to his shoulder as she cried.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Did you really throw my son out a second story window into a pile of garbage?"
Nathan dropped the soap as he jumped in the bathtub. He swung his head around as his hands scrambled to cover the essential parts.
"Nora! For God's sake, woman." He slipped as far down into the tub as he could get.
"Do not get modest on me now, Nathan Black," she said, taking a step further into the room but remaining at a proper distance. "I asked you a question. Samuel tells me you threw him out of a window. Into garbage," she said the last bit with far more emphasis.
Richard and Jane had insisted that Nora and Samuel stay at their residence in Mayfair and even though it had been nearly midnight, they had made the journey across the park with an utterly exhausted Samuel and an equally as emotional Nora. Nathan had not bothered to mention that he felt like the pavement itself, trodded on by millions without so much as a care. Upon arriving at the Lofton home, Jane had immediately ordered a bath for Samuel, and for Nathan, although this was an after thought, and had promptly led Nora and Samuel away. Richard had demanded a debriefing in the library, which Nathan reluctantly gave, his mind wandering to the bath he knew was waiting above stairs.
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