Her heart skipped a beat. Still?
A gentle smile played across his mouth. “At last, I have your attention.”
“Why did you do it?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then whatever emotion she imagined she had witnessed in his eyes, disappeared. “For friendship.”
Of all the replies he could have given her, that was not on her list. “Now that I cannot believe. You’ve broken every rule of friendship.”
“And I thought you were desperate for the bathroom.”
“I was...am.”
“Follow me, and keep your mouth shut.”
Through a myriad of narrow corridors, Maggie followed Edward Hindmarch. Every now and again they passed a man in the same navy baggy trousers and shirt that her attacker had worn. Fear slid along her veins and she found herself hugging the wall, wanting to reach for Edward, but she snatched her hand back.
They threaded their way through what seemed to be a lounge of sorts. Men lay sprawled over satin covered cushions scattered in all four corners of the room. A pipe with a bulbous glass bowl bubbled away, the fumes from the smoke offering a sickly sweet smell.
Her footfall faltered as one of the men screeched at her, pointing the longest fingernail she’d ever seen in her direction. Dark, menacing eyes squinted at her, while his other hand twined his thin cord of a moustache over and over.
Maggie swallowed a gasp as the man stood and swayed and took a step toward her.
Edward sidestepped and spoke to the man in his own language. When he turned back to Maggie she stared at him, her mouth ajar.
“You speak their language.”
He shrugged as if it was something he did every day. “It comes in handy.”
Disdain reignited. “I suppose it would, in your line of work.”
“A necessary evil.”
“Evil being the operative word here, I think.”
“Another saying is, don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Your cover, M’Lord is sadly tainted.”
His mouth curved. “You dislike me, Maggie.”
“I dislike that you’ve used Clayton.”
“You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Correct, but it’s clear in your eyes.”
She disconnected her gaze from his, wishing she weren’t so obvious. “I thought you were taking me to the bathroom.”
He pointed down a short corridor to the right. “This way.”
Several strides later, he nodded toward a cubicle. “In there.”
Maggie peered at the disgusting box. “But there’s no door.”
“All the better to make sure you don’t try and make a run for it.”
“But I can’t use that.” She screwed up her nose, desperately trying not to breathe. “It’s...it’s fetid.”
“It’s either the cubicle or right here.”
Choice? She had none. No way could she squat on the floor in front of whoever passed. Already several of the drugged men from the lounge walked back and forward across the entrance to the small corridor, stopping to glare at her in the process.
She stepped close to the open latrine, and then slammed a hand over her mouth as the most disgusting smell, even worse than the rotting corpses after the influenza, assaulted her nostrils. She gagged and her eyes stung with tears.
She glanced back at Edward who stood nonchalantly with his arms folded, as if nothing was wrong.
“Two minutes, and then I’ll come and get you.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“In two minutes and one second you’ll see.”
Maggie crossed the threshold and held her breath, determined not to breathe until she was out of this hellhole.
As Edward counted just loud enough for her to hear, Maggie tried to mentally block out the fact that he stood so close, and could in fact watch her every move. Then, thankfully, he turned his back to her.
She couldn’t get out of there fast enough however, and stepped out to stand alongside him.
“One minute and forty five seconds. Well done.”
She tossed her head in a silent reply.
Suddenly, he grabbed her elbow, his voice lowered. “We need to make haste.”
She tried to pull from his embrace, but his grip proved vicious.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“With you? I don’t think that is possible.”
“Better the devil you know, sometimes.”
With no alternative she gave in, and again they made their way down a series of narrow corridors. “How big is this place?”
“It’s a maze.”
“Mazes always have a way out.”
“Not this one.” He stalled, his expression deadly. “I advise you not to try on your own. Many a man here would rather like your English beauty.”
Renewed horror choked her airways.. Ahead of them was a set of double doors. He opened one of them. “After you.”
Her mouth twitched. “A rogue with manners. How unique.”
“And there you go pigeonholing me again. Women aren’t the only ones with an air of mystery.”
“Oh, m’Lord you are quite readable. You’ve used your best friend, his business, and even stole a Bellerose family heirloom.”
His expression morphed from cocky assuredness to one of almost guilt.
“Why did you do it?”
“The diary came in handy. Inside, Maggie.”
Her corralled fear exploded. “I can’t. Please Edward, let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
“I am sure you wouldn’t, but you see, it’s not me who kidnapped you.”
Confusion scrambled her brain. “But you’re here.”
“I am, and for that you should be grateful. A rogue can come in handy sometimes. Go inside, Maggie.”
Stifling her rising panic, she held her head high, shoved her shoulders back and strode past him.
The room at least was an improvement on her earlier prison, and also away from the disgusting aromas of opium and feces. Several satin cushions were scattered across the floor, but the only window had been boarded over, allowing not one skerrick of natural light.
She turned to Edward who, surprisingly, had followed her in. “What time is it?”
“Late afternoon.”
So long? Did Clayton know? Did he care?
Her heart plummeted, and the smidgen of hope she’d been clinging desperately to, dissolved. The only person she could rely on to get out of this mess was herself.
Just then someone knocked at the still open door.
A tiny woman, her gray hair tied up in a tight bun atop her head shuffled into the room. She carried a tray of steaming food. “Got you food.” The woman openly inspected Maggie and offered a toothless smile. “You make a good happy time girl.”
“Min, you old reprobate, this one isn’t for sale. Go back to the kitchen where you belong.”
“Me got to try, Mr. Edward. The visitors like a bit of white meat.”
The woman’s cackle followed her out and Edward closed the door soundly behind her, locking it and depositing the key in his coat pocket. “Sit down, Maggie. Eat.”
She pointed to the plate of rice and some sort of meat dish. “You first.”
His laugh was surprising, lighting up his expression in a way she had never noticed before. It made him almost handsome. “The food isn’t poisoned. What use would you be to Wah Lee if you’re dead?”
“So eat it first. Or are you scared?”
His smile broadened. “No, I’m not scared, though I should be.” He reached for a small bowl and scooped a spoon of rice into it, followed by the fragrantly aromatic meat. Still chewing, he waved his spoon to the food. “Tuck in.”
Maggie didn’t hesitate; her stomach had already been vociferous in announcing its need for sustenance. She grabbed a bowl and spoon and loaded it up.
Sometime later, suitably
full, she sat back in a rickety chair and studied the room, realizing with increasing despondency that escape was truly impossible.
Edward sat opposite on an upturned crate. She recognized the label as similar to the one that carried his opium through Bellerose Trading.
“You asked me a question earlier,” Edward interrupted her considerations and she shifted her attention to him.
“Which one are you particularly referring to?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why indeed.”
Edward dug into the other pocket of his coat from where he’d placed the key to her freedom. “Because of this.” He drew out a book and held it out to her.
Maggie sat up straight. “The diary. Why did you steal it? What use is it to you?”
“Josephine and her emeralds became a way to stem their greed for a while. It gave me time.”
Maggie frowned, not understanding. “Their greed?”
But before Edward answered, a thunderous rap rattled the door. “Open up, Hindmarch, I want to see the girl.”
Wah Lee!
Maggie scooted off her chair and backed into the corner. “Please don’t let him in. Please.”
“Mr. Carmichael and Mr. Tanner are arriving soon. We need answers. They have sourced some rather exciting...product from France. Left over from the war, I hear.”
“Shit!” Edward spun from the door, scrubbing a hand across his scalp. He turned back to the still-locked door. “I wasn’t expecting them so soon.”
Maggie looked sharply at Edward, noting his sudden agitation. “Who? Edward, what is going on?”
He held up a hand to her. “Just agree to whatever he says. It’s the best way.”
“For whom?
“Don’t argue, Maggie. Do as I tell you.”
“Or what.”
“Or you may not live to see your heart’s desire again.”
Retrieving the key from his pocket, Edward strode to the door to the accompaniment of another thunderous hammering from her Chinese captor. “Hang onto to your hat, Wah Lee.”
Maggie steeled herself and stepped away from her corner, dropped her hands to her sides, though curled her fingers into her palms.
Breathe. Just breathe. Don’t show fear. Not one iota.
Edward opened the door and Wah Lee entered, followed by the two henchmen who’d accosted her.
“Has she said anything?”
“Not yet.”
“You make her, do you hear me? Get me those tiger’s eyes.”
“The emeralds!” At last it all clicked into place. The diary, the lost opium. “You stole the diary to get the emeralds. You talked about greed. What about your own? Your gambling?”
“My gambling?” Edward scraped his fingers through his hair. “You got it…” He cut his words short, and shot Wah Lee a glance. His expression morphed as he turned back to her. “You’re right. Clever. The emeralds were an enticement.”
Ice slithered down Maggie’s spine. “Clayton trusted you.”
“I know.”
“Enough of these niceties. Get them. You have till midday, or else.” He theatrically drew his right forefinger across his throat. “And it won’t just be this missy right here.”
Spinning away, he strode out without a backward glance, his accomplices stripping her naked with their eyes as they exited.
“You heard him.” Edward held out the diary. “Time for a bit of reading, I think.”
Maggie folded her arms across her middle. “No.”
His brows rose. “So you prefer to have your throat slit?”
Her eyes widened.
“I can’t protect you if you don’t at least try and do what Wah Lee has asked.”
“Why would you want to protect me?”
“As I said, not everything is what it seems. Wah Lee is a greedy man, as are his co-conspirators, Carmichael and Tanner.”
“And you’re feeding into that for your own greed.”
“Not exactly.”
“How not exactly?”
“It’s complicated. Right now, you just need to decipher Josephine’s secret.” He proffered the diary. “Read it. See what you can make of it.”
“Have you tried?”
He offered a wry grin. “I have, but perhaps I don’t have your imagination.”
“Or maybe Josephine doesn’t want you to find them.”
“Just like a woman. But what about Clayton, Maggie?”
“What about him?” She tried not to think about him, or imagine him next to her, making love to her. She failed miserably.
“You do love him.”
Desperately. But Maggie held herself in check, trying to keep her voice calm when inside she cried tears of loss and tears of what would never be. “I do, but Clayton does not want me and made that perfectly clear. He has another life, with another.”
“Elaine?”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t because it made it all too real, when she really didn’t want to believe in real.
“You’re wrong about that, but if you’re going to find out the truth, you need to get out of here.” His gaze dropped to the diary still held out to her.
Maggie hesitated, then reached out and took it. Sitting back down, she waited while Edward adjusted the light so she could better read the ancient script.
He stood over her. “Where did you get up to?”
“You mean where did I finish reading before you stole it?”
His mouth pressed into a hard line.
Tracing Josephine’s cursive script with the tip of her finger, she flicked over several pages. “Here.” She tapped the page. “Josephine had made a promise to Ivan to keep the emeralds safe.”
“Has she given any other hints?”
Maggie offered an uncaring shrug. “Sorry if you’re disappointed, but it’s not that easy reading. The ink is faded in many parts, making it illegible.”
“But you still get an idea of what is going on.”
“Why, Edward, you sound disappointed.”
“Call it desperate.”
“You, desperate? So it’s not just my throat you’re trying to save but your own.”
“You could put it that way. There’s someone I need to get word to and we need to get out of here before Carmichael and Tanner turn up.”
“Who are they?”
“Men you don’t want to meet. They’ll be none too friendly if they know of your association to Clayton.”
Clayton? “Does he know them?”
“Unfortunately yes, though it seems since the shooting he doesn’t remember them.”
Maggie frowned at the direction the conversation had just taken. About to ask him to explain, he got in first.
“Read, Maggie. Read as if your life depends on it, because it does.”
“And your life, too.”
“Exactly.”
Maggie did what she was told, which was slightly ironic given that she was obeying a man who was responsible for her being here in the first place. She started reading aloud, but slowly, pretending it was indecipherable in places, because she was damned if she would offer up the answers so easily to this quest. Josephine’s emeralds, as far as she was concerned, needed to stay hidden.
While she read, Edward paced the floor, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and his head bowed, deep in thought. “There’s that bit about the garden. Could that be a clue?”
Ivan is gone. How I miss him. But I must heed his warning. A walk in the garden is in order. So lovely at this time of year, a place that holds many precious memories.
“She’s talking about treasure so it must be a clue.”
“She doesn’t say where, and then her diary entries stop.”
“There is no more?”
“You read it, surely?”
“I...” Edward prevaricated and Maggie realized why.
“You didn’t read it, did you?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, and offered a half smile. “Guilty as charged.”
“But i
f you wanted to know the answer, why not read it?”
“Because I was delaying them. It’s about appearances and we have to look as if we are at least trying. I needed longer to...” He clammed up.
“To what, Edward? What are you up to?”
“Finding out what the hell happened, and...”
“Fire!” The screech echoed even through the closed door and they both silenced.
“Fire! Fire!”
“Stay here.” Edward ran to the door and shoved in the big rusty iron key and thrust it home.
The door opened to thick black smoke and licks of flame swept into the room, feeding on the oxygen. “Sweet Jesus.” He slammed the door closed and spun round to her. “There’s a carafe of water with the food tray. Find some fabric and soak it, then cover your mouth.”
“But...”
“Now’s not the time for questioning. Just do it.”
Maggie grabbed at the water.
Fabric. She needed fabric.
There was nothing.
She glanced down to the floor, and then remembered the silk petticoat beneath her dress. Hauling up her dress, uncaring about modesty, she grabbed a clump of the silk and ripped the seam. The fabric tore and a large piece came free.
She glanced up at Edward, and then grabbing the fabric in the middle she tore at it with her teeth and ripped the fabric in two. Reaching for the carafe of water, she doused the fabric. “Here, this is for you.” She held out a portion to him. “You’re helping me,” she prompted at his questioning look. “There’s enough for two.”
“Thank you.” He took it and tied it around his mouth, indicating she do the same. A trail of smoke slithered beneath the door. Then another and another. Flames attacked the edges of the doorframe, parts of it already blackened and burning. He pointed to the window. “It’s our only hope.”
“Can’t we crash through the door, and try the other way?”
“The smoke’s too thick, we’d get no more than a few yards.”
Edward turned back to the window. It had been boarded by planks, but the top right corner had a loosened edge. He tried to slide his fingers underneath. “Damnation. My hand’s too big.
“Here, let me.” Maggie elbowed Edward out of the way and reached up, easily slipping her fingers beneath the paling and pulled.
Nothing happened.
“Try again. All you need to do is loosen it so I can get behind it.”
Saving the Soldier's Heart (The Emerald Quest Book 2) Page 22