My Gentleman Spy (The Duke of Strathmore Book 5)

by Sasha Cottman

  Will walked Hattie home to Edgar’s house, ignoring her protests of being safe for the short distance between the houses. After he returned to number forty-three, he went back to the sitting room and poured himself another brandy.

  It was apparent to Hattie’s mind, that they were at an impasse. For Will, while it had been a challenging evening, he was able to see that they had made unexpected progress.

  Hattie now knew the truth of Yvette’s death. That secret no longer lay between them. There was an odd sense of relief in having passed that point in their relationship. While Hattie did not agree with Will’s need to protect her, she at least now had somewhat of an understanding of his motives. She knew what lowering his guard had once cost him.

  He set the glass down on the table, and pondered the other unexpected, but welcome development of the night.

  She loved him. She had spoken the words.

  The decision he now faced was what to do with that new knowledge. She wanted more than his wealth or social connections could give, she wanted a true partnership. A marriage where she would be able to make her own choices. Where he would have to let go of the need to control.

  The challenge now lay in how they could find a way forward. How they could forge a future together where both could be happy.

  The problem he faced was the sure knowledge that he would never be happy having his wife working in the dangerous streets of St. Giles.

  The clock in the sitting room chimed the hour of twelve. He was tired, but his mind was too restless to consider sleep.

  Hattie had made it clear that if she was ever to consider living back in his world, then she would have to be able to keep her work.

  “Fool”, he muttered.

  Grabbing his coat, he headed downstairs and hailed a hack outside.

  “St. John’s church, Holborn, please,” he instructed the driver.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  There was a certain sense of déjà vu the following morning when Hattie and Edgar argued over her refusal to take a maid with her when she left the house. The very same argument she had had with Will only weeks earlier.

  “I have walked the streets of St. Giles alone many times with our parents' approval, I do not need a chaperone. You agreed to let me keep doing my work as long as I stayed out of Plumtree Street,” Hattie firmly stated.

  The males in her life, seemed incapable of accepting that she was no feeble female. She was more than capable of looking after herself. Hattie was determined to hold out against Will and he was far more stubborn than Edgar.

  Attempting to keep matters cordial between them and avoid another family schism, Edgar finally conceded defeat. He did however make his displeasure known.

  “You cannot expect to continue this life indefinitely. I expect William Saunders to make an offer of marriage to you any day now. As he is a good man, with wealth, and a first- class background I will be most inclined to approve his request. You need a husband to keep you in check.”

  Hattie wrapped her scarf around her neck and shoved her hat down over her head.

  “Yes, brother I hear you,” she replied.

  She was in a hurry to get out of the house and away from Edgar. She needed a morning of being away from men who were trying to tell her how she should live her life.

  As Hattie passed number forty-three, she glanced up at the windows of the upper floor of the house. The curtains of Will’s bedroom were still fully drawn.

  It was still odd to think of it as Will’s home. She had been born in the house. It would forever be her home.

  She hastened her steps to pass by the front door. Even if Will was his usual late abed self, she knew he would have eyes watching the street, looking for her.

  “Bloody over protective stubborn man,” she muttered.

  Hattie’s day progressed much the same as most others since her return to St. John’s. She spent time helping to clean the church. Reverend Brown, however was in an odd mood all day. He was not his usual self. From his constant yawning, it would appear he had not gotten a full night’s sleep.

  After completing her work at the church, she headed over to Covent Garden markets and collected the vegetable scraps with which to make soup for the poor who would be attending the church later that day.

  It was late by the time she finished preparing the soup and feeding the parishioners. She was washing out the last of the large soup pots when little Annie Mayford appeared at the door to the church kitchen.

  “Hello sweet heart, you are out late,” said Hattie.

  She quickly finished with the pot and dried her hands. She gave Annie a hug.

  “How is your mother? I am sorry I have not been to see her.”

  Tears formed in the little girl’s eyes.

  “Joshua says you shouldn’t come and visit because of what the gang did to you, but.”

  “But what?”

  “Mama is dying. She hasn’t eaten anything for the past few days. All she does now is cough up blood. I’m frightened,” sobbed Annie.

  Hattie put her arms around Annie and held her close. She had always known that there would come a time when Mrs. Mayford’s health would eventually fail. Annie would then be left in the care of her two gang affiliated brothers. It would not be long before Annie was drawn into the world of the Belton Street gang. Life in the rookery had a certain predictable pattern to it.

  She was torn as to what she should do. Only last night, she had told Will she didn’t knowingly walk into dangerous situations, and this very morning she promised Edgar she would stay out of Plumtree Street.

  On the other hand, if Mrs. Mayford died and Hattie had not been able to see her before her passing, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

  “Is Joshua home?” she asked.

  Annie nodded.

  The news was encouraging. If Joshua and Baylee were home, then it meant the gang did not need them any further for the night. If she was careful she could slip into the rookery, visit the Mayfords, and the Belton Street gang would be none the wiser. It was worth the risk to be able to say one final farewell to Mrs. Mayford.

  “I shall come with you. Let me get my coat and hat. I have some apples which I think Baylee would like.”

  The climb up the long, thin staircase of the slum house in Plumtree Street was never easy. Entire families lived on the landings of each floor. Their meagre possessions only allowing a small gap in which a visitor could pass by on their way up to the next floor. Annie ran ahead of Hattie and knocked on the door of her family’s lodging.

  Joshua opened the door. Seeing Hattie, he stepped out onto the landing and checked to see if anyone had noticed her arrival. He closed the door quickly behind him once he was done.

  “You took a huge risk coming here Hattie. But I am grateful. Mama does not have long for this world.”

  When she looked at him, Hattie felt nothing but pity. He had aged in the short time he and Baylee had been members of the Belton Street gang. Gone were the youthful looks of his mere sixteen years. In their place was a grey pallor and bloodshot eyes.

  “Oh Joshua. What have they done to you?”

  He laughed. “Nothing, I’m fine. Baylee and I are having a whale of a time. It’s great to be out with the lads every day.”

  His gaze fixed on little Annie and his mother both seated on the bed in the corner. Hattie took the subtle hint. They did not need to know of all the terrible things which the boys were forced to be involved in when out with the gang.

  Taking her cue from Joshua, she opened the small sack she had brought with her and placed the handful of apples on the table. Upon seeing the apples Baylee swiftly snatched one up. Hattie laughed as he bit into the apple with unrestrained relish.

  Hattie then went and sat with Annie and her mother. Mrs. Mayford managed a weak smile. From the tired look on her face and her labored efforts to breathe, Hattie knew it would not be long until she was gone.

  “Could you please tell us another of your travel stories Miss Hattie?
” asked Annie.

  The youngest of the Mayford children delighted in Hattie’s tales of her adventures in Spain. She especially loved hearing about the tall, dark stranger who had helped to rescue Hattie from the sea.

  She had just begun to tell Annie about the wonderous cave of St. Michael when there was a loud rap on the door of the lodging. A booming voice came from outside on the landing.

  “Open up!”

  “It’s Tom, my boss!” whispered Joshua.

  Hattie went cold with fear. Finding her at the Mayford home for a second time would not go down well with the gang leader. He had warned her that the next time he caught her in Plumtree Street he would do much worse than give her a beating. He had boasted of tossing her into the Thames and holding her under until she drowned.

  Hattie silently rued her stubborn nature. Will would be livid if he knew where she was right now and the danger she had placed herself in. It would be cold comfort for him to know that he had been right about Yvette and herself not taking their own safety as seriously as he did. And especially not when there was a good chance she was about to share Yvette’s fate.

  “What are we going to do? Tom will find you here. He thinks some of the lads are holding onto stolen goods and not giving him his cut. He will check both rooms in case we’re hiding stuff from him,” said Joshua.

  Hattie took a deep breath, and tried to calm her mind. She remembered how Will had checked their surroundings when they were being threatened by the market crowd in Gibraltar. She now did the same.

  “Can you climb safely down to the ground from here?” she asked.

  When Joshua went to argue, she took a firm hold of his arm.

  “Listen to me Joshua. You are the only one who can help me right now. There is nothing we can do to stop Tom and the gang coming through the door and taking me. I need you to go to my old house in Newport Street and find William Saunders. You remember him, you met him the night you brought me home. Tell him where they will have taken me.”

  There was a second and more violent bang on the door.

  “Oy! Open up inside!”

  Joshua raced to the window and clambered out onto the tiny ledge before disappearing. Hattie gave a silent prayer of thanks for the fact that the family lived on the second floor.

  Turning to the others, she held a finger to her lips.

  “Not a word any of you about Joshua. Don’t even look at the window.”

  She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Are you sure Hattie won’t be joining us this evening?” asked Caroline.

  “No, she has some other personal matters to attend to tonight,” replied Will.

  After the events of the previous night, Will was in no mood to go into the finer details of Hattie’s absence from the party. He would call on her at Edgar’s house in the morning and discuss the plan he had agreed to with Reverend Brown. If she agreed to his terms, he would ask Edgar for his sister’s hand in marriage.

  He prayed she would agree. He was fast running out of options.

  Stubborn Woman.

  In the aftermath of his fight with Hattie, Will had forgotten entirely about his promise to accompany two of his younger siblings to a small gathering at a family friend Harry Menzies’ house; only remembering when Caroline sent word earlier that afternoon.

  Having spent so many years away from home, he owed it to them to step into the role of big brother now that he was permanently back in London. He could never give them back the time he had been absent during their younger years.

  “Do you like my new gown, mama says it makes me look quite regal?”

  Will looked at Caroline, but his mind was elsewhere. His every waking thought of the day thus far had been about Hattie. She wanted him, he had always known that much. Now he knew she loved him.

  But was love enough for her to take her place by his side; of that he was not so sure.

  “Well?”

  “You look delightful sis. I’m sure all the gentlemen whose favor you wish to hold tonight will notice. Dull of mind older brothers being an unfortunate exception,” said Francis.

  Will stirred from his musings at the clear rebuke from Francis.

  “I’m sorry Caro. Yes, your gown is beautiful, as are you. Forgive me for my woolgathering I have a lot on my mind this evening.”

  He focused on his youngest sister. Caroline was a true beauty. One of the diamonds of the ton. Behind her astonishingly deep green eyes was a sharp mind. Heaven help the man who sought to marry her just for her looks.

  They headed out to the mews at the rear of the Saunders town house in Dover Street. Charles Saunders preferred the French mode of coming and going discreetly from home, rather than the grand show the English made of departing from the front of their houses.

  Will waited until Caroline and Francis were on board.

  “Could you give me a minute?” he said.

  He walked away from the carriage. From his pocket he withdrew a small cheroot and a nearby footman lit it for him.

  Leaning against the side of the carriage, he tried to clear his head. He had sent word earlier in the day to call on Hattie, but had received a short note stating that she was working at the church and would not be back until early evening.

  The beginning of what he thought was a headache had been forming in his brain for the past hour or so. His hearing was also off cue. A long low whistle was ringing in his ear.

  One of the kitchen maids appeared from the kitchens, with a large wooden bowl in her hands. She headed over to the rear of the garden and out through a side gate.

  Adelaide Saunders had grown up in Scotland with fresh eggs delivered every day from the Strathmore estate chickens. She flatly refused to have eggs bought from the markets of London, and so the family kept a dozen chickens in a small garden at the rear of their house.

  The chickens came racing over to the gate as soon as the maid opened it. The flap of wings and excited squawks stirred the night air as the chickens jostled for position to gain access to the supper leftovers. Will watched as the chickens made short work of the carrot and potato peelings.

  Will drew back on his cheroot. There were always hungry mouths to feed. The chickens in his parent’s garden likely ate better than most of Hattie’s friends in St. Giles.

  He threw the barely smoked cheroot down and crushed it with his boot. After the gathering tonight, he would call at Edgar Wright’s house and speak with Hattie.

  Will climbed aboard the carriage.

  “So, who is at this soiree tonight?” asked Will.

  The carriage was headed toward Bedford Square where Harry Menzies’ family owned a fine new mansion.

  Caroline huffed. “Mr. Menzies has invited a few of his business connections, how terribly boring. Harry has his hunting pals, so I expect we won’t see Francis all evening. I was hoping cousin Lucy and her new husband Avery were going to attend, but they have cried off. So that leaves a few stray folks such as you and I to mingle together for the duration. Such a pity Hattie could not come tonight. After last night, I am keen to talk to her about the work she does with the poor. She seems so noble about it.”

  The low whistle in Will’s ear began to rapidly escalate to a loud ring. He found it hard to hear anything else. A sense of utter dread filled him as he realized that his senses were screaming for his attention.

  “Would you mind, if we turned the carriage around and it took me back home? I don’t think I am going to be very good company this evening,” he said. He knocked on the roof of the carriage, and the coachman slowed the horses.

  An increasingly uneasy Will, was about to suggest that he get out and find his own way home, when Caroline suddenly screamed. A riding crop was smashed violently against the side window nearest to her.

  “What the devil!” exclaimed Francis.

  “Halt! Halt I say!” a voice cried out in the street.

  Will leapt to the other side of the carriage and pulled down the win
dow. He put his head out, only to be met with the terrible sight of a frantic Edgar Wright riding at full tilt alongside the carriage.

  “Pull the bloody carriage over! Stop!” Edgar bellowed.

  Francis and Will both banged furiously on the front wall of the carriage, signaling the driver to stop.

  As soon as the carriage came to a halt, Will jumped out.

  “Wait here Francis and keep Caroline safe,” he said.

  Edgar reined in his horse. At that point Will got a glimpse of a figure tucked up behind Edger on the back of the horse. A figure whose face was a mask of fear.

  “Joshua?”

  Chapter Forty

  “The Belton Street gang have taken Hattie, they are going to kill her!” cried Joshua.

  Will saw the look on Edgar’s face. A look which Will had prayed he would never have to see again after the war with France. A look of unrestrained terror.

  “I was at your house looking for Hattie, when this lad arrived. Your butler told me you were headed this way tonight. Thank god we’ve found you,” explained Edgar.

  Will turned and to his relief saw that the Saunders’ family coachman was already in the process of unhooking one of the horses from the carriage.

  “Where have they taken her?”

  “Down to the river, near the new Waterloo Bridge. The gang have a hideout there for shipping stolen goods up river. They also do a trade in dead bodies,” replied Joshua.

  Will felt a deadly chill run down his spine. These were not a simple gang of pick pockets he was dealing with tonight. The Belton Street gang were known even in polite society as vicious thugs.

  Edgar leaped down from his horse and handed Will the reins.

  “We were on our way there when we saw your carriage. If you are the man rumors at White’s say you are, you should take Joshua and my horse,” added Edgar.

  To Will’s surprise and bone deep relief, Edgar produced a pistol and a knife from out of his coat. Will quickly took them. He leapt up on the horse, pulling Joshua close in behind him. Edgar meanwhile headed over to where the other horse was being separated from the carriage.