by Rebecca King
“He said to tell you that the new location for the shoots is in Scotland?” She said with a frown.
Mr Tate froze and stared at her. It was clearly not what he had been expecting.
“What?” he demanded briskly.
“My uncle said to tell you that-”
“Yes, I got that, but what the hell is he telling me for?” Tate demanded with a scowl.
Tahlia shrugged amiably. “I think he assumed you would know what to do about it.”
Disturbingly, Mr Tate gave no reaction at all to her news. He rose from his desk, walked to the door, closed it, and then resumed his seat.
“Say that again.” His voice was little more than a hushed whisper but held a sinister tone to it that was alarming.
Once again, she repeated the message and turned her curious gaze on Connor, who pursed his lips thoughtfully but still didn’t speak.
“Well, now that I have passed the message on, I will be on my way,” she said gaily as she pushed out of her chair. “I am sorry for disturbing you.”
Inwardly, she was thoroughly enjoying the ruse, and would have had a lot more fun from the situation if it hadn’t felt so deuced uncomfortable. She looked at Mr Tate expectantly, silently willing him to do something–anything; to show her some kind of reaction. A blink would have been better than the absolute stillness, and that hard, penetrating stare.
Suddenly, he sat back in his seat as though she had taken the wind out of his sails. He stared blankly at the desk-top for a moment before his gaze flew up to meet hers.
“What do you think it means?” he asked in confusion.
Tahlia shrugged. “I don’t know. I assumed you would know.”
“I don’t. It doesn’t make any sense to me,” Tate replied thoughtfully.
Connor shrugged. “Well, we will be on our way. Now that we have passed the message on we will leave you to find out what it is all about.”
“Who else have you told about this?” Tate demanded.
His voice whipped harshly across the room, and made them both stare at him in surprise.
“Nobody,” Tahlia replied nervously.
“Has your uncle written to anybody else?”
The intensity in Mr Tate’s gaze was starting to unnerve her.
“I don’t know. Anyway, Mr Tate, now that I have passed the information on, I will take my leave. Good day to you,” Tahlia said briskly to discourage any further questions.
A stilted silence settled in their wake as they walked out of the house. Neither of them looked back until they reached the street outside of the house.
Connor closed the door behind them because there was no housekeeper around to do it, and shook his head at Tahlia in disbelief.
“How odd,” she whispered as soon as they reached the main road.
“Come on, let’s go,” Connor murmured, eager to leave the area.
“Heaven’s above,” she hissed as they hurried side-by-side toward the street. “Do you really think we should be getting caught up in this?”
“No, I don’t,” Connor replied darkly. “Not at all, but do you see any way we can get out of it?”
“No,” she replied honestly.
“No, neither can I,” Connor sighed.
Thankfully, the smog had started to lift, just as dusk had begun to cast everything in shadow. Tahlia wasn’t sure which was worse; not being able to see anything because of the thick fog, or not being able to see because of the dark. She was afraid of the dark. She hated it in fact, and once again found herself edging closer to Connor as they walked through the streets.
“I hate this,” Tahlia whispered. “There is something wrong.”
Connor had been scouring the area as they walked. He wanted to hail a carriage because it was too far to walk all the way to Gillingham House. The only problem with that was that all of the coachmen were bundled up against the cold. They looked just like the coachman who had driven the carriage for the gunman. He couldn’t risk handing Tahlia into a coach with a gunman inside.
Tahlia glanced around and willed herself to remain calm.
“Do you think it is just the memory of what happened to you earlier that worries you?” Connor asked gently.
“I would like to say not, but I really don’t know if it is just the strangeness of the meeting with Mr Tate that has left me a little on edge,” she replied honestly.
“He was strange, I will grant you that,” Connor breathed.
He suspected they were being followed but didn’t want to scare Tahlia until he could be certain. He wasn’t used to spending much time with women, though, and it wasn’t long before she picked up on the tension coursing through him.
“Why are we going so fast?” she gasped as she struggled to keep up with his rapid pace.
Connor looked down at her and nodded to the opposite side of the street.
“Let’s cross over shall we?” he murmured.
Tahlia found her elbow captured in a firm hold before she was practically forced across the street. Connor took the opportunity to glance around, and spied two men walking toward them on opposite side of the street to each other. It was clear from the look they passed between them that they knew each other. If that wasn’t enough proof they were related to the muggers, the features of the man with the heavily bruised face were awfully familiar to Connor. He swore roundly.
“What is it?” Tahlia gasped. She tried to look behind them but Connor dodged behind her and nudged her forward. “Connor?”
He couldn’t lie to her but he didn’t want to terrify her. Circumstances thwarted him when a large carriage appeared at the end of the street. When the shutter slid down to reveal a darkened interior, Connor pushed Tahlia into an alley. The explosion of the brickwork beside them told him everything he needed to know.
Connor knew they only had seconds before they would be cornered in the alleyway. Spying a door further down, he raced toward it dragging Tahlia with him. Once there, he pushed it open and propelled her into the room. Slamming it closed behind them, he wedged it closed with a barrel and pushed through the back of the shop.
“Oi!” The burly shopkeeper yelled when he realised his premises had been invaded.
“Sorry, but someone is trying to mug us,” Connor gasped. He pointed to the door. “If they try to get in they are muggers. Watch your shop; they will be after your cash.”
The outrage on the shopkeepers face was enough to divert the man’s fury, and buy Tahlia and Connor the time they needed to escape.
“Which way out?”
The man pointed to the far corner of the property. Connor didn’t wait for instruction and worked his way through the rooms until they reached a small yard. Peeking out through the gate, he heaved a sigh of relief to find a narrow alley stretching between a long row of shops and houses. While it wasn’t perfect, it would give them the time Connor needed to get Tahlia out of the area.
“Why are we going this way?” Tahlia gasped. “We are going toward them.”
“No, we aren’t,” Connor replied in a hard voice. “They are in a carriage. They won’t be able to turn it around that quickly, and will be heading in the opposite direction.”
Tahlia lapsed into silence. They were moving so quickly she was struggling to keep pace, but Connor seemed to know what he was doing.
When they reached the end of the alley, Connor glanced up and down the blessedly empty road and tugged Tahlia out onto the street.
“We need to hurry,” Connor replied.
The sound of clip-clopping hooves suddenly caught their attention. Connor spied an empty carriage trotting toward them and lifted his hand.
“Don’t stop, we are in a hurry,” he called when the carriage pulled alongside. “Gillingham House, Westby Street, Mayfair please, and don’t stop for anything.”
He practically threw Tahlia into the carriage and jumped in after her before she had even taken a seat. With the door closed, he slid the shutters down, and ordered Tahlia to remain perfectly still while he
peered around the blind.
“Do you see them?” She whispered.
Connor shook his head. “Keep an eye out that side, but don’t move the blind if you can. Keep your face hidden. They mustn’t see you looking out at them or they will know it is us in here.”
Tahlia’s heart thundered but it was more with the thrill of excitement than fear. Now that they were encased in the secure confines of the carriage she felt considerably safer and began to relax.
“There they are,” Connor muttered as they turned out of the end of the street. “The two men on foot are talking to the coachman. They are trying to work out where we vanished to.”
A smile lit Connor’s face as he watched them enter the alley he and Tahlia had just left.
“We are safe,” she whispered in jubilation only for her smile to die at the stark look on his face.
“Not yet, but we will be in a while.” When he saw her crestfallen look he realised just how rough he was being on her. “I am sorry. I just need to get us back to Gillingham House in one peace. Then I can relax a little.”
“They followed us, didn’t they?” she whispered.
Connor nodded. “I think it is safe to assume that they have been watching the back of the house as well.”
“Why don’t we go in through the front door then?” she asked.
“We have to stand on the doorstep while we wait for Oscar to answer the door. Anybody could shoot at us while we are there. It is about the most vulnerable place we could be. We are going to go back into the house the way we left it. There are places they can hide, but there are also places we can hide as well.”
“In the alley,” she whispered.
Tahlia nodded, but looked at him doubtfully. “If you are sure it will work.”
“It is the best option we have at present. They have lost us at the moment, but could make their way here just as quickly as we have.”
Tahlia winced. The idea of walking down a dark alley, even with Connor by her side, made her feel sick with dread.
“We will be alright, Tahlia,” he assured her.
“Nothing is alright in London,” she whispered.
CHAPTER NINE
Connor misunderstood, and threw her a commiserating look.
“It won’t be long now,” he promised.
She climbed down from the carriage reluctantly, and tugged her cloak around her as she eyed the shadows already starting to form around them. The entrance of the alley already looked like a black hole that would lead her directly to Hell, and she hadn’t even entered it yet.
“Do we run?”
Connor shook his head. “No, we can walk quickly but quietly toward the back of your house.”
“Do you know which one it is?” she whispered.
Connor nodded and grabbed her hand once he had paid the coachman and it had rumbled away.
“Let’s go.” It was too dark for her to see but he removed his gun from his cloak pocket and cocked it in readiness. He still had another smaller gun in his boot and a flick-knife in his pocket. With his fighting skills, it would be enough.
Tahlia ducked her head and kept her eyes on the ground as they hurried through the alley. It seemed to stretch on for miles. With each step she took her tension grew until she was sure she was going to shatter by the time they reached the back wall of Gillingham House.
Before they reached the gate, it suddenly swung open. Connor pushed Tahlia behind him and took aim, only to slump in relief when Isaac stepped out into the alleyway and beckoned them into the garden.
“Come on,” he whispered. “You were followed.”
Within seconds, Tahlia was swept into the relative safety of the garden. All three of them remained quiet as they cross the lawn and entered the house to find two more gentlemen seated before the fireplace.
Connor introduced both new arrivals to Tahlia. Isaac, a rather stocky man was roguishly handsome but had an air of menace about him that was, strangely, threatening and reassuring at the same time. Barnaby Stephenson was a far more affable gentleman, and stepped forward with a courteous bow that was so alien to Tahlia that she forgot to curtsey.
“We don’t bother with the formalities here,” Connor announced wryly as he took a seat on the chaise beside Tahlia. “They usually live in the country.”
Barnaby nodded and stood. He paced to the fireplace and stood with his back toward them for a moment. When he did turn around there was such a fierce look of anger on his face that Tahlia leaned back in her seat, and wondered what had happened.
“Connor, just what the heck did you think you were doing?” Barnaby thundered. “Someone is taking pot-shots at the house and what do you do? Take the woman outside!”
“It wasn’t Connor’s fault,” Tahlia protested before Connor could defend himself.
“Tahlia,” Connor murmured.
She glared angrily at him. “Well, it wasn’t. I was doing something my uncle asked me to do for him, and Connor decided I should have some protection.”
“With all due respect, my dear, you are in danger. Connor should never have let you out of the house.”
His tone drew her outrage. Tahlia pushed to her feet and planted her fists firmly on her hips.
“I am a fully grown woman. I have every right to make decisions for myself,” she retorted. “It is not for Connor, or anybody else, to ‘let’ me go anywhere.”
Barnaby bowed politely but refused to back down. “There is a clear and definite threat to your life. You should remain inside where it is safe.”
“But we were shot at when we were inside this house,” she snapped. “So you cannot actually class being in here safe, can you?”
Barnaby fought a smile. He understood now why Connor was so smitten. This woman before him was incredibly feisty. She was a perfect mate for Connor who was, at that moment, gazing adoringly at her.
Sensibly, Isaac had remained mute throughout the exchange, and was now seated beside the fire with a rather stunned look on his face. He had never seen anybody speak to Barnaby in this fashion, especially a woman. It was as bemusing as it was stunning to witness. Barnaby seemed to find it all rather amusing, which helped to bring some camaraderie to the room and stop it becoming too tense.
“I am not suggesting that you have to put your life on hold, but you should not take risks with your life like this. This is London and-”
“I know what London is,” Tahlia snorted. “It is the very reason why I left it behind three years ago. Time is of the essence, though. I don’t intend to be here for very long and have a lot to do. I can’t just sit by the fire and wait for someone to break into the house.”
Connor coughed around a smile.
“Your butler informed me that you had gone to deliver a message,” Barnaby challenged. “Couldn’t you have sent a note instead?”
“How? Who with?” Tahlia snapped. “I can’t send Oscar if this house is being watched. He is a servant. It is a bit rich to expect him to risk his life to deliver a message.”
“You could have sent Connor,” Barnaby replied calmly.
“This is family business,” Tahlia snapped. “I was perfectly capable of delivering my own message, thank you.”
Barnaby nodded. “So, do we know who has been attempting to mug you? Do you have any idea who tried to shoot you?”
“We don’t know if they intended to shoot me or Connor,” Tahlia declared.
She whirled on Connor and glared at him, challenging him to deny it.
“It’s true.” Connor tried to calm the rising tension by bringing Barnaby and Isaac up to date on what they had learned so far.
Barnaby shook his head in disbelief. “Let me get this straight. After being mugged – twice, you then had someone try to snatch you off the street. You managed to get here only to then be shot at. You then found yourself surrounded in jewels you never knew about, and asked to deliver an odd message to someone you didn’t know.”
When it was couched like that Tahlia realised that it did all soun
d rather stupid, but she refused to admit that she should have stayed at home.
“What did this Mr Tate say?”
Tahlia looked at Connor.
“I need to go back to this Mr Tate’s house tonight and take a better look at it,” Connor sighed.
“I just can’t see Uncle Henry being friends with that man. Mr Tate was abrupt to the point of rudeness, and seemed intrigued, not shocked, intrigued, by the ridiculous message I did pass on,” Tahlia explained.
Connor nodded. “She didn’t give him the right message. The housekeeper was rude, and didn’t even bother to show us to the room properly or announce us. Then Mr Tate was odd to say the least. I am going to go back to take a better look at what he is hiding.”
Barnaby shook his head in disbelief. “What was the message you were supposed to pass on?”
“That the mudlark diamond is with Valentin,” Tahlia replied.
Barnaby froze and stared intently at her. “The mudlark is in London?”
Connor knew that look on his boss’ face, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“What do you know about the mudlark diamond?” It was the first he had ever heard of it. He wondered what else Barnaby knew that the rest of the men didn’t.
“I will tell you what I discovered just this afternoon,” Barnaby retorted. “That the mudlark diamond is supposed to be worth a vast fortune, but nobody has ever seen it. Nobody can say whether it truly exists.”
“It has not been stolen yet?” Isaac asked.
“Nobody knows where it is,” Barnaby replied. “We need to find out what we can about this Valentin fellow.”
“I have a picture of him,” Tahlia exclaimed. She hurried out of the room and returned moments later with the portrait.
“He doesn’t look familiar to me,” Barnaby mused and handed the picture to Isaac, who shook his head.
“Me neither.” Isaac handed the picture back to Tahlia. “Do you think he is connected to the mudlark diamond in some way? Why would your uncle have a picture of him?”
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Well, keep it to one side for now. It may become useful later on in some way. For now, stay inside where it is safe,” Barnaby warned.