Page 45 of The Lady Confesses
“I’ll go after Annie Foster. And if you find my wife, Joss—no. Nevermind. I’ll deal with Honoria myself when all this is settled. Just get them somewhere safe and put them in shackles, if need be, to keep them there. Stavers, send for that bloody inspector, Maurice Bates. He’ll need to be in on this or he’ll never be satisfied of Henrietta’s innocence.”
Joss wasn’t listening. He was already out the door, taking the stairs in a rush. He had one thought and one thought only: Get to Hettie. Get to her, gut Simon Dagliesh, and damn the consequences. Lord or not, the man wouldn’t see the dawn.
*
Hettie entered thehouse and found it dark and quiet. There were no servants, which did not bode well.
“They’ve all been instructed to make themselves scarce.”
The voice, an all too familiar one, had come out of the darkness. Hettie fought back a shiver of fear. She hadn’t expected all the servants to be present, but she hadn’t thought he would have dismissed them all for the evening. It didn’t change her plans, but it did infinitely increase the level of danger she presently found herself in. “Of course they were. What is all this really about, Simon?”
“It’s about the bastard in your belly. It’s certainly not dear Uncle Arthur’s,” he mused, slowly stepping forward.
Hettie took him in. Dressed in rough, dirty clothing, his face unshaven and his hair unkempt, it was quite clear that Simon was spiraling out of control. The stress of his current situation, his debts, and the threat she posed to the security of his future had clearly taken their toll on him. “Simon, you do not look well.”
“Concerned for me, Auntie? I don’t think so.”
“No,” Hettie agreed. “It’s merely an observation. What is it that you have planned? Naturally, it will be something dastardly.”
“Indeed it is. You’re going to die. Whether it is quickly and as painlessly as possible or whether I make you suffer greatly will depend entirely upon how cooperative you are.”
Hettie laughed. “Dead is dead, Simon. Whether it is painful or painless, the end result is the same and undesirable. But I shall cooperate with you on one condition—”
“Do you really think you are in a position to make demands?”
“It’s a simple enough one,” Hettie continued. “You will take me to wherever Annie Foster is. And I know she is not here. You would not risk her having an ally in this house, nor could you persuade all the servants to vacate the house if you brought her here with you.”
“All your association with criminals has apparently given you remarkable insight... but I’ve no wish to traipse all over London with an unwilling woman who might throw me to the wolves at any moment.”
“We need not traipse. I have a carriage. You take me to Annie, put her in the carriage, and send her on her way. Then you will have my full cooperation.”
“And if I do not?”
“Then I shall scream this house down around our ears. While the servants here have been given the night off, they have not been sent away next door, nor across the road. Someonewillhear me. Perhaps that will not be enough to save me, Simon, but it will be enough to see you hang.”
He stepped forward, one menacing step after another until he stood there, nose to nose with her. “Do not try me, Henrietta. And do not defy me. You want to see your maid? Fine. I’ll take you to her, but her face will be the last thing you see.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jack moved alongthe docks looking for the warehouse in question. They were not well signed, but asking for the location was not really an option. Discretion was vital, and announcing his presence by asking someone to direct him there was hardly the way to go about that.
When he finally found the building, he noted that it was locked and deserted. Not surprising, given the hour. What was surprising were the footsteps he heard approaching. Ducking into the shadows, he reached for the knife tucked into the concealed holster at his waist, prepared to meet any potential threat. But the footsteps halted nearby.
“Who’s there?”
Jack recognized the voice instantly. It was none other than the Hound himself. Tucking the blade back into place, he stepped forward. “I see you received my message.”
The Hound visibly relaxed as another man stepped forward. Jack knew him instantly, not by name but certainly by vocation. He was a Runner for sure. There was a look about them, a watchfulness.
“I did, and I thank you for your assistance,” the Hound replied. “Have you found anything yet?”
“Sadly, no. I have not found any purloined lady’s maids just lying about the place. Who is your associate, Carrow?”
The Hound laughed even as the other man bristled. “Careful, Collinsworth. You don’t want to end up on the wrong side of Bow Street. Oh, too late for that. But you don’t want to draw their ire.”
“I’m Inspector Maurice Bates, and I’m here to determine whether Lord Ernsdale was murdered by his wife or his nephew. That is all. I do not, as a general rule, associate with criminals.”
Jack couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. “No, I don’t imagine you do. You’d be in a better mood if you did, though. We’re right fun, we are.”
