Tempting Danger: Sinclair and Raven series

by Vella, Wendy

  The butler hesitated.

  “If you know anything, please tell us, Hopkins. I fear something is very wrong,” Alice said, trying to sound calm when inside she was terrified.

  “His last words to me, Miss Sinclair, were that he was going to visit a hell and would not return for some time.”

  “A hell?”

  “Gambling establishment,” Wolf gritted out.

  “No!” Alice stumbled back as if she’d been shot. Wolf steadied her. “He told me he would never gamble again.”

  “Come, we must leave,” Rose said. “Apologies for disturbing you, Hopkins.”

  “If I may say, Captain Sinclair. These actions go against Lord Braithwaite’s character now. He has not done such a thing in many years.”

  “Yes, thank you, Hopkins, good evening to you.” Wolf urged the women back down the path. “Move your feet, Alice.”

  She held back the sob as it wanted to tear from her throat.

  “I-I…. He wouldn’t do this. I know he wouldn’t.”

  “For some people it’s a fever in their blood,” Wolf said. “We shall set him right again, I assure you, or you will not marry him.”

  “No. Nicholas promised me.”

  Surely it was not the truth? Could she have been so wrong about him?

  “The facts are before us, Alice. Come, we shall confront him in the morning,” Wolf said.

  “Nicholas is a good man. I believe something has forced him to go back there.” Rose said, leading the way back into the house.

  “Unfinished business,” Wolf snapped.

  “But if it is only this once—”

  “He is an addict, Rose, once will never be enough,” Wolf said. “Come, it is late, nothing can be done now.” He urged them all back up the stairs.

  “How can you expect me to sleep? Surely we need to go—”

  “No one is going anywhere!” Wolf thundered.

  “I don’t believe he would betray himself, and me, in this way,” Alice said.

  Wolf looked at her with pity in his eyes.

  “Sleep now.”

  She said nothing further, knowing her brother believed Nicholas guilty.

  “Alice, shall I sleep with you?” Kate asked her as they walked to their rooms.

  “No, but thank you. I wish to be alone.”

  Kate hugged her close, but she felt nothing, only numbness. Entering her room, Alice did not change her clothes, simply lay on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  I love you, Alice Sinclair. He’d spoken the words to her as he drove away from the musicale tonight, and she’d believed them.

  Something was wrong, she felt it deep inside her.

  I don’t and won’t. The only reason I will ever gamble again would be if I had no other choice but to do so.

  Alice sat upright suddenly as she remembered his words. Dear lord, was it possible he was being forced to gamble? But why would anyone do such a thing?

  Only a threat to what Nicholas held dear would make that happen.

  That I will soon be asked to do something that goes against the man I have become. I must do this to free a child.

  She’d said those words to him in a vision. Dear lord, he was being forced to gamble.

  “I’m a fool for doubting you, even for a second, Nicholas. Forgive me.”

  Alice hurried off the bed and took her coin purse out of her dresser. Tucking it in to her pocket she then opened her door and crept down the stairs to Wolf’s office.

  Her brother would not let her leave the house again tonight. He believed Nicholas was gambling; to convince him otherwise would be impossible, Alice knew that with a certainty. She had to do this herself, no matter that when she returned Wolf would likely lock her in her room and hide the key indefinitely.

  Reaching beneath his desk, she found the key he thought she and Kate could not find and used it to open the cabinet that he’d had fitted behind the bookshelf that he also didn’t think they knew about. Pulling the shelf forward, she used the key to unlock the case. Opening it, Alice took out a knife that was fitted in a sheath. Wolf had taught her how to use it, but she’d never wanted to learn to fire a gun like Kate.

  Lifting her skirts, she strapped it to her thigh, then ran to the door. She had to get out of the house before Wolf woke, which he would when he felt that something was wrong.

  Once outside, she ran down the street, not stopping until a hackney appeared.

  “Take me to Bastil’s, please.”

  “Begging your pardon, miss, but that’s no place for a lady.”

  “I know, but my fiancé is there.”

  “Ah” was all the driver said, but the look of sympathy on his face made Alice grit her teeth.

  The drive seemed to take forever, but finally they arrived. Leaning out the window, she told the driver she would pay him to wait here with her in the hackney. Alice then pulled out her earplugs and listened.

  “I believe I have won again, Braeburn, which suggests you owe me an address.”

  Alice knew it was Nicholas who spoke those words.

  “Damn you, Braithwaite. I should have beaten you!”

  “But you didn’t and never will. Now tell me the address where the child is so I can return it to its mother, or I’ll give you what you deserve, and to hell with your men at my back.”

  No further words were spoken by Nicholas or the other man, and then suddenly he appeared in the doorway. He looked rumpled, hat in hand, as he stalked to where another hackney waited. He didn’t look her way as he gave an address she did not recognize.

  Alice told her driver to follow the hackney Nicholas was in. They rolled through the dark London streets. She saw late night revelers returning from social gatherings, and all the time she thought about Nicholas. Nicholas had been gambling to save a child. Her guilt over what she’d first thought when she’d heard he was in a gambling hell, intensified.

  When the carriage stopped, she got down and paid the driver all the money she had in her reticule.

  “That’s where the hackney stopped. A gentleman got down and walked that way,” the driver said, pointing ahead of him.

  “Will you wait for me to return, sir?”

  When he agreed, Alice walked slowly in the direction he’d pointed to. Keeping to the shadows, she patted her knife, ensuring it was in place.

  She could hear no voices nearby, just the occasional distant murmur.

  Where are you, Nicholas?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It had taken every ounce of skill he had, but eventually he’d beaten Braeburn. The man had been shocked, sure that Nicholas had lost his skills. He’d then left Bastil’s with an address and the vow that if the babe was not there he was coming for Braeburn, and there would be nowhere he could hide, even the Continent.

  What surprised him as he walked though the darkened streets was that he’d left Bastil’s unharmed. Of course the night was not over, and until he reached his bed he would be on his guard. Braeburn was a snake and not to be trusted.

  Nicholas found the correct building. Taking the stairs up, he found number fifteen and knocked on the door. Mrs. Adley opened it.

  “Why are you here?” She tried to shut it. He forced his way inside.

  “Give me the babe, and then tell me who you took him from.”

  “The money—”

  “I have no wish to listen to your motivations, as only greed could have you committing such a heinous crime. Hand over the child... now.” Nicholas kept his voice low, as he had no wish to rouse any of the neighbors. Peers were not exactly commonplace here, nor were they respected. They could turn on him should the Adleys have friends nearby.

  She hurried away, and seconds later appeared with a bundle of blankets. Nicholas took the infant in one arm.

  “I need the address now.”

  “He was from two buildings over. Bottom floor, number two.” She pointed straight ahead.

  “Name of the mother?”

  “Glim.”

  “Do yo
u keep records of the children you have stolen?”

  She hesitated.

  “Perhaps this will help reinstate your memory?” He pulled the pistol from his jacket pocket.

  “What’s going on here?” Mr. Adley appeared.

  “Bring me any records of where the children you have stolen were from and have been delivered to.”

  “You can’t come here. Why do you have that b-babe?” the man spluttered.

  Nicholas pointed the pistol at his wife’s head.

  “Get the records now, or I shoot.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he scoffed.

  “I’m a marquis, Mr. Adley, I can dare just about anything. What’s more, it would not upset me overly to kill either you or your wife. You are both scum that I would gladly rid the world of.”

  “Do as he says, Syd.” Mrs. Adley’s voice was laced with panic. “Hurry.”

  The man began to move.

  “Try anything at all, Mr. Adley, and you will be very sorry,” Nicholas said.

  The child in his arms grew restless, crying out for something. Nicholas rocked him from side to side, no easy task while holding a pistol.

  “Were you and Lord Braeburn selling them to noblemen?”

  She nodded. “I-I don’t know the names of them that’s involved.”

  “But the babes were sold to men who had no heirs?”

  She nodded once more.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “Two years.”

  Disgusted, Nicholas could not look at her.

  Mr. Adley returned with a ledger.

  He did not want to put down the pistol, so he handed the baby to Mrs. Adley while he took the ledger and tucked it down the front of his breeches.

  “Give him to me.”

  Once he had the child again, he left without saying another word. Taking the stairs down, he hugged the babe close as it began to cry in earnest. Hurrying through the dark, he found the second building and number two, then banged on the door.

  “Who’s there?”

  “I am the Marquis of Braithwaite.”

  “And I’m the Jolly Roger.”

  “Please open the door, I have your babe in my arms.”

  The door was thrown open, and there stood a man in his nightshirt, beside him a woman who had obviously been weeping. Her face was ravished with grief.

  “What game are you playing?” The man stepped in front of the woman.

  “Your baby was taken away last night after a man came to your door. You were told he was deformed. Is that correct?”

  The man nodded.

  “I have been investigating this matter for some time. Boy babies were being taken and given to noblemen for money. Yours was to be the same.”

  “No!” the woman cried.

  “You’re lying, no one could be so cruel,” the man said.

  “They are, and can be. I have your babe here, please take him.” Nicholas stepped inside and handed the child to its mother. “I’m sorry for how you suffered, so very sorry. There are many babies out there who have been removed from their mothers, and I will see them returned.”

  “H-he is our boy?” The man started to weep.

  “He is.”

  “I-I can never thank you enough.”

  “There is no need. I will say good evening to you both. But be assured I will return to discuss the events of that evening.”

  Nicholas shook the hand the man held out to him, and then turned to leave.

  Exhausted and yet somehow elated, he walked slowly back to where he hoped to find a hackney. Alice would be proud of him, and while Lilly loved him, it was different with Alice. He wanted to tell her now what he’d done, and yet that would have to wait for a few more hours.

  It was as he neared the end of the lane that he heard footsteps coming from behind him. Nicholas knew whoever they were, they were coming for him. It seemed Braeburn had one more piece of the game to play.

  He’d known, of course, that it could not possibly go this easy, but he’d hoped it would.

  Pulling out his shirt, he tucked it in over the ledger and redid the buttons on his coat. He could not lose that... if he got out of this alive.

  Strangely, he felt calm. He loved Alice and knew she loved him. He had not just found her to have that ripped away. But to get to her, he had a feeling the journey was not going to be pleasant.

  He turned with his pistol in one hand as they started running.

  “I will kill one of you. Which one is it to be?”

  He fired. One dropped, clutching his thigh. The other three grabbed him. He fought with everything he had at his disposal, feet, fists, but eventually they overpowered him. He was then bound hand and foot and gagged.

  His first thought, when he could think again, was of Alice. She’d know now that something was wrong... she would feel it, as would his family. He must stay alive long enough for them to find him.

  Nicholas did not struggle anymore, deciding that he would need his strength for what lay ahead.

  They carried him along the street and in through a door of what looked to be a warehouse. They took stairs down and then lowered him through a hole and into the sewers below. He was dropped like a pile of rags and landed heavily, grunting at the impact.

  Their feet splashed as they walked through the sludge along a tunnel. The stench was foul, but as he could only breathe through his nose, he could do nothing about that.

  “He’s a bloody heavy brute,” one of the men muttered.

  “He’s a dead weight, they’s always heavier.”

  “He’s also a toff. They have plenty of food.”

  Was this Braeburn’s way of getting more money? Was he to be ransomed, or was this an act of revenge for beating him at cards?

  They walked and walked.

  “He’s too heavy, I can’t keep going.”

  “Untie his feet. He can walk.”

  Someone cut the binds around his ankles and then he was lowered to the ground. Dropped, actually, into the filth once more.

  “Now get up and move.” Looking at the three men, he didn’t think now was a time to make a run for it. One of them had a pistol pointed at him.

  The passage was narrow, the walls slimy and damp. He could hardly see a foot in front of his face, but clearly the men had spent time down here and knew where they were going.

  Nicholas estimated they’d been walking for over an hour by the time they stopped. The tunnel opened into a small dock. Nicholas saw three rowboats. One was manned.

  “Get him in, we leave now. Kit with me, and John and Phil in the next boat.”

  “There’s a third,” one of the men said.

  “We don’t need it, and it’s not likely anyone else will. So get in, we need to move. Lower him, then throw the blanket over him.”

  Nicholas tried to stop them, but they soon overpowered him and had him in the boat.

  “I’ll shoot you if your lift your head.”

  Nicholas felt something jab his side and knew it was the pistol. He stayed still, for now.

  He thought about going overboard, but he wouldn’t last being gagged and with his hands tied. Plus, he needed to keep the ledger dry. No, he’d wait, bide his time, and then he’d escape and go back to Alice. That thought alone motivated him.

  Alice heard the gunfire and ran in that direction. She arrived in time to see the men carrying Nicholas. She knew it was him, as they’d called him a toff and she doubted there would be many of those here in this area of London.

  She’d followed at a distance, not wanting to be seen, listening for the voices to guide her. Entering the warehouse, she hurried down the stairs. Jumping into the sewer had taken two attempts, but she’d done it, and hadn’t squealed too many times. Possibly four or five, and those were muffled by the handkerchief pressed to her face as she followed.

  Things scurried across her shoes; others made noises. Everything smelled fetid down here. The walls, roof, and floor were damp, and the space narrow. Alice did n
ot like small spaces. It was so dark she could barely see a foot in front of her, and she hoped she didn’t stand on a rodent of any kind. There was every possibility they were huge in such an environment.

  You must do this for Nicholas.

  Was he all right? She’d tracked their footsteps, but they had stopped somewhere up ahead. She’d then heard them speaking about getting him into a boat.

  As yet she had not heard his voice, but Alice knew it was him those men had captured.

  How was she to follow him if there was no boat for her to get in? Further to that was the horrifying prospect of retracing her steps. She’d be lost in minutes. There was absolutely no way she could find her way back to the street above.

  Slowing as she heard the murmur of voices, she eased forward and peered around the edge of the wall. Her heart sank as she saw two rowboats leaving the mooring.

  Nicholas was in one of them, but she couldn’t make out which from here. Not that it mattered; what mattered was that she did not let him out of her sight.

  Be brave, Alice.

  Alice had always found that bravery had more appeal when she was not alone. Strength often came from others. This time, she had to find it alone.

  Her family would have realized by now something was not right. But they would not find her if Alice did not start speaking... loudly, which she could not do at the moment.

  Slipping from her hiding position when the boats had moved far enough away, she found another rowboat. Looking at the vessel, Alice thought about the only time she’d been in one.

  She, Barty, and Verity had been rowing down the river. She’d taken the oars and nearly tipped them all into the water.

  Get in, Alice, you can do this.

  Untying the rope that moored the boat, she gingerly stepped down into it. So far, so good. She then sat, and the boat rocked, but steadied. Pushing away from the side, she picked up the oars and lowered them into the water.

  “Keep your strokes smooth, Alice,” Barty had said. Which would likely be easier if her stomach was not churning with fear. She managed to propel the boat forward slowly, but her reach was not great and the going very slow. The second stroke she went too deep and nearly lost the oar.

  Desperation had her wanting to sob, but she had to do this for Nicholas. As she tried to direct the boat forward, something happened. The current started to gently bob her along. Alice did her best to guide the boat and keep it going forward so it did not crash into anything.