“Here,” Jane said as she led Meredith over to a sofa, “you must sit down.”
Some investigator she was, helping the woman who was supposed to be the enemy. Still, she couldn’t help it. She could never bear to see a woman ill, especially one bearing a child.
But she had to know the truth. So, as soon as she and Meredith were seated, she said, “I assume that you and Samuel were arguing about your child. His child.”
“You know?” Meredith squeaked, her hand going to her belly. Then she paused. “Oh. Right. I forgot that Lord Blakeborough is your fiancé.” She scowled. “I should never have gone to him. But I didn’t think he’d reveal my secret to you, of all people, especially after I told him I was mistaken about a babe growing in my belly.”
“Except that you weren’t mistaken, were you?” Jane prodded.
Meredith stared down at the handkerchief. “No. After Samuel showed up, I figured everything would be all right, so I lied to his lordship. I didn’t want the truth to get back to you or my mistress. She thought I was helping my ill papa; she’d never take me back if she thought I was bearing a bastard. Especially Samuel’s bastard.”
Jane’s throat tightened. “Because she was having an affair with Samuel.”
Meredith eyed her incredulously. “No, indeed! It was naught but a flirtation until his lordship’s death. Then she started talking about how she could marry Samuel, how he wanted to marry her. And I was in a pickle. I thought she was deluded about his intentions, but I could hardly tell her I was bearing his babe. I would have been turned off for good! So I asked for leave to come home to help my ailing papa.”
The young woman rubbed her arms. “I really thought Samuel would marry me. He was always saying how he loved me. But after I sent that note to his lordship, Samuel admitted he was planning to marry her ladyship. That he and my lady wanted to take in my babe, since she’d lost her own. Only they . . . wanted to make it look like she’d borne it herself, he said. That it was her late husband’s. So the babe could inherit, you see.”
A vise tightened about Jane’s chest. She’d been wrong about Nancy. Oh, Lord, how could that be?
“But that didn’t sound right to me.” Meredith glared into the distance. “I’m not as much the fool as Samuel takes me for, you know. I understood how wicked that was, and I knew my lady would never do such a thing.”
The vise loosened a fraction, and Jane began to breathe again.
“So, I told him I wished to speak to her ladyship myself about it. He put me off for a few days, telling me nonsense about how she wasn’t feeling up to it after losing the baby and such. This morning when he came to the inn where I work, I flat out told him I wouldn’t do it unless I could talk to her. I gave him no choice but to agree.”
Meredith met Jane’s gaze. “So, this afternoon, he brought me over to the house where she’s staying. It was awful, miss. A rough-looking bruiser friend of Samuel’s was standing outside when we got there. He and Samuel went inside with me and stood about the whole time I spoke with her ladyship.”
Jane swallowed, her heart clamoring in her chest. “What did she say to you?”
“Not much. She was cold and looked at me so suspicious-like . . . There’s no telling what he’d told her about me, about my part in everything. We hardly spoke two words, because he kept breaking in and correcting her on things. She wouldn’t say a word about my baby, though he kept prompting her to.”
Meredith frowned. “The whole thing was odd, I tell you. So I started asking her if she was all right and how she was feeling and such, and that’s when Samuel hustled me out of there and brought me home.”
Sweet Lord. It sounded to her as if Samuel was keeping Nancy against her will. If that were the case, and Dom was walking into a situation against at least Samuel and one of Samuel’s prizefighters, possibly others . . . “You know where this house is, right?”
“Yes, but . . . well . . .” She twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “When I told Samuel I wanted no part of his scheme, he threatened me if I didn’t keep quiet. Said he would blacken my name so I could never get a position again, that he would ruin me.”
“That’s what you were arguing about,” Jane said.
“I was just trying to think what to do when you knocked.” Meredith seized Jane’s hand. “Oh, miss, my papa really is ailing. I didn’t make that up. He shouldn’t even be working at the coaching inn, and Mama doesn’t make enough to take care of us and a babe, too. I have to have a position! I can’t lose it. It would have been hard enough to rely on whatever Samuel gave me, but if he won’t marry me and won’t help pay for the babe and I can’t work . . .”
“You leave Samuel to me,” Jane said fiercely. Edwin would help. He had to. Assuming that Meredith was speaking the truth, of course, about all of this. “But you have to tell me where he’s hiding Nancy.”
Somehow she had to get to Dom, to warn him. Oh, sweet Lord, she dearly hoped she hadn’t sent him into danger!
A knock came at the door, startling them both. Meredith leapt up. “What if that’s Samuel? What if he’s come back, and he finds you here? Lord help us!”
Jane stepped to the window to look out, then sagged in relief. “Oh, thank heaven, it’s Tristan.” Without waiting for Meredith, she hurried to open the door.
“Jane!” Tristan cried. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Dom’s Jane?” the man with him asked.
She didn’t recognize him, but he had to be Max’s cousin Victor. He and Max had similar faces, not to mention similar coloring. There was a definite family resemblance.
“I presume you are Mr. Cale.” She thrust out her hand. “I’m Jane Vernon, Dom’s fiancée,” she said, delighted that she could say it at last.
Mr. Cale shook her hand as Tristan muttered, “It’s about damned time you two made it official.” Then he gazed beyond her to where Meredith stood. “Where is Dom, anyway? We didn’t see the hackney out front.”
“He took it to follow Samuel, who was just here. He’s trying to find out where Samuel is keeping Nancy.” She fought, unsuccessfully, to tamp down the panic rising in her chest once more. “But he might be riding into danger, and I don’t know where he’s gone.” She turned to stare at Meredith. “Please, you have to tell us. I can’t take the chance that Samuel will hurt the man I mean to marry.”
“L-Lord Rathmoor? Y-You’re going to marry his late lordship’s younger brother?”
Jane nodded. “And then I’ll be mistress of Rathmoor Park, and I swear by everything that’s holy, I will make sure—we will make sure that you’re taken care of. You and your babe and your family.” She seized Meredith’s hands. “But you have to tell me where Samuel is keeping Nancy.”
Meredith glanced from her to Tristan and Victor, then released a long sigh. “All right. I’ll tell you.”
21
BY THE TIME the carriage carrying Barlow halted in front of a tumbledown town house across the Thames in Battersea, the light was fading. Dom pulled over a few doors back, then got down and pretended to check one of the horses’ feet for a stone so he could keep an eye on his quarry.
Fortunately, Barlow didn’t seem to be expecting anyone to follow him, for he didn’t even glance around. He paid the hackney driver, who pulled off. Then he spoke to a beefy fellow lounging on the steps before using a key to go inside.
Those two things alone would have roused Dom’s alarm, but coupled with Jane’s concerns, he had to admit all wasn’t quite right. The man with the look of a prizefighter about him appeared to have been standing guard. Given Barlow’s present profession as an organizer of fights, might there be others inside?
The bruiser rose and headed up the street toward Dom, whistling. The man was a good head taller than Dom, but that would make no difference if Dom took him by surprise. Laying his hand on the knife in his coat pocket, Dom waited until the man walked p
ast him before following behind him . . . at least as far as the nearest alley.
Then before the big lug even knew what was happening, Dom lunged forward to catch him by the neck in a hold. Jabbing the tip of his blade into the brute’s back, Dom dragged him into the alley.
A moment of struggle ensued until Dom hissed, “I’ll bury this knife in your ribs, you bloody fool, if you don’t stop fighting.”
The man stilled. “If it’s money ye’re after—”
“It’s not.” Dom tightened his forearm across the man’s throat, just enough to limit his breathing. “Who’s in the house with Barlow?”
There was a long pause. “Don’t know what ye’re talking about,” the man wheezed.
“Then we’ll stand here until you figure it out.” Dom stuck the bruiser with his blade just enough to make him bleed. “While we wait, I can do some carving.”
“Now see here,” the man warned him, “if you cut me, my friends will hunt you down and smash your face to bits. You don’t know who ye’re dealing with.”
“Neither do you. Ever hear of the Duke’s Men?” God, how he hated that term, but it was better known than Manton’s Investigations. “I’m one of them.”
“Ye’re lying.”
“Not a bit. I’ve got friends of my own. With guns. And plenty of reason to shoot them. My name’s Manton. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
The man froze. “Dominick Manton? The runner what captured those rebels in Cato Street?”
“The very one.” He dug his forearm into the fellow’s windpipe. “Now, let’s try this again. Who else is in the house with Barlow?”
The bruiser swallowed against his arm. “There’s a lady in there by the name of Nancy. Barlow says he’s planning on marrying her. That’s all I know.”
“Why did he have you standing guard?”
“To keep the lady from leaving when he ain’t around.”
Dom gritted his teeth. Jane had been right. And this had now become far more complicated. “So the lady doesn’t actually want to marry Barlow, I take it.”
“He won’t say. But he keeps her locked in her room.”
“Which room?”
When the man hesitated, Dom jabbed him again.
The bruiser hissed a curse through clenched teeth. “The one at the back, top floor.”
“Is there anyone else in there? Aside from Barlow and the woman?”
The man hesitated. “Don’t know.”
That second’s delay told Dom the bruiser was probably lying. Damn. Dom could spend all day trying to get the truth out of this idiot.
And now Dom could hear sounds of a carriage coming up the road. That could be another of Barlow’s friends—or more than one. Dom didn’t fancy being cornered by a pack of prizefighters.
So he tightened his hold on the bruiser until his breathing stopped and the man went limp.
As Dom lowered him to the ground, shadows darkened the end of the alley nearest the street. But before he could even reach for the pistol in his other pocket, a familiar voice drawled, “Told you he’d be in the alley. Dom always prefers seclusion for his interrogations.”
Dom released a breath. Thank God Jane had sent Victor and Tristan here. Wait, how had she known where to tell them to find him?
Jane herself pushed past Tristan and Victor and ran to him. “I’m so glad you’re all right!” Catching sight of the bruiser on the ground, she halted. “I-Is he dead?”
“Just unconscious.” Dom glanced at Victor. “A trick your wife told me about after that mess with your brother-in-law last year. I finally found a wrestler to teach it to me, but I’ve never before used it on a case.”
“Effective,” Tristan said, nudging the prone man with his foot. “You’ll have to teach us, too.”
Victor knelt by the fighter. “Guess we’d better tie him up before he comes to, eh?”
“Yes,” Dom said. “He won’t stay out long.”
The other two went to work, using rope Victor carried in the agency’s traveling coach. Dom was glad he’d brought the massive thing. They might need it.
Meanwhile, Jane was busy opening Dom’s coat and checking him over. “You are all right, aren’t you? He didn’t hurt you?”
Dom laughed. “I used to do this for a living, sweeting. I’m fine.” Then he sobered. “But you were right about Nancy. Barlow’s keeping her locked up.”
“I know. Meredith told me. That’s how we knew where to find you.” When he arched an eyebrow at her, she added, “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you later. Right now you have to get Nancy out of there.”
“Agreed.”
Victor brought his rig up alongside the alley, and he and Tristan tossed the trussed and gagged bruiser inside. Then they returned to the alley.
“So, what’s the plan?” Tristan asked.
“You take Jane back to her uncle’s,” Dom said. “Victor and I will handle getting Nancy out.”
Jane glared at him. “I’m not leaving.”
“You most certainly are,” Dom said firmly.
“But Dom, you need Tristan’s help. Samuel has become a thorough villain. You don’t know what you’re walking into.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “No point in losing a man by sending one off with me.”
“She’s got a point,” Victor said.
Damn. She did. “Fine.” Dom fixed Jane with a dour look. “But you have to swear you’ll just sit in my hackney and stay quiet while we rescue your cousin. Understood?”
“Absolutely,” she said with a sniff. “I don’t want to get in the way.”
When Dom snorted, Tristan and Victor both laughed.
“He’s got it bad, doesn’t he?” Victor said to Tristan.
“You have no idea, old chap,” Tristan answered cheerily.
“Come on, you two dunderheads, night is falling and we don’t want to finish this in the dark,” Dom grumbled. “Let’s see what we can find out before we go blundering in.” He pointed to the other end of the alley. “That leads to the mews. We might be able to see the back of the house from there, where Barlow is keeping Nancy. If I can trust what that bruiser told me.”
The three men started for the back opening to the alley. Then Dom paused to look back at Jane. “Well?”
“I’m going, I’m going! Do be careful.” She blew him a kiss, then disappeared into the street.
Damn it all. She’d better be true to her word. While he didn’t think Barlow was as dangerous as she feared, the arse’s prizefighter friends might be.
Fortunately, the house was easy to survey from the mews. With daylight waning, Dom, Victor, and Tristan were able to keep to the shadows and look the situation over. There were only two floors, which made everything easier. Less area to cover, and more chance at finding Nancy quickly. Not to mention, less chance that the house was filled with prizefighters.
“Judging from the number of windows, only two rooms are in the back on the top floor,” Dom said. “That narrows down Nancy’s location. Assuming that I can believe that bruiser’s information.”
“Do you think Barlow’s got a man behind that back door?” Victor asked.
“He might,” Dom said. “It would make sense; Nancy could skip out the back as easily as the front. But from what the bruiser said, any guard is there to keep Nancy in, not keep others out. I doubt that Barlow expects anyone to know where to find him.”
“You might be right,” Victor said. “No one was saying a word at Barlow’s old haunts. We would never have tracked him down if you hadn’t followed him.”
“Or if Jane hadn’t convinced Meredith to tell us where the house is,” Tristan said. “Your fiancée is quite a woman.”
“I know.” And she never ceased to amaze him. Dom turned to Victor. “You haven’t met Barlow, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
; “Good. Then you can be the one to knock on the front door. Since he doesn’t know you, he may actually answer. If he doesn’t, you’ll have to break in, but that shouldn’t be a problem. The houses around here are cheaply made. Either way, while you’re subduing Samuel, Tristan and I can break down the back door. I’ll deal with whomever’s in there while Tristan finds Nancy and gets her out.”
“Hey, why am I stuck with Nancy?” Tristan asked.
“Because you’re better with women than I am.”
“Tristan’s better with women than both of us put together,” Victor said dryly. “And Max.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Fine. I suppose that’s a workable plan, since I can’t imagine that Barlow has more than one extra fellow in there. It’s not as if he’s dealing with the likes of my bold wife. Zoe might attempt an escape out a window, but I doubt Nancy would.”
“True,” Dom said. “But for all we know, this house is where his prizefighter friends spend their leisure time. We’d better be prepared for anything.”
Because Jane was right: they had no idea what they were walking into.
♦ ♦ ♦
JANE SAT WITH her face glued to the window of the hackney. Thankfully, the carriage was situated close enough to the house that she could just see the entrance up ahead. But it was getting darker now. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to see much of anything, unless the lamps were lit inside.
Suddenly Victor emerged from the alley, making her start. What the devil was he doing?
He strolled up the steps of the house to knock on the door. Sweet Lord! Her pulse went into a stampede, especially when, moments later, Victor vanished inside.
Faith, she couldn’t see anything else from here! The dratted house windows were curtained, too, which was vastly annoying. She lowered the carriage window, hoping to hear what was going on, but not a sound came from the house. Was that good or bad? Were they inside? How long did it take to corral a villain, anyway?
Oh, if only she dared get out, but Dom had been very firm about that. And though she might ignore some of his orders, she suspected that in this case, it was best to heed it.
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