Page 82 of Lady Sophia's Lover
Gentry seemed aghast at the notion of becoming a public servant. “How in God’s name did you come up with such an insane idea?”
“I thought of something Morgan says…a runner and the criminal he catches are two sides of the same coin.”
“And you think Morgan is going to trust me?”
“Not at first. You’ll have to earn his trust day by day.”
“I’ll be damned if I scrape and bow to a bunch of Robin Redbreasts,” Gentry sneered, using the nickname inspired by the runners’ dress uniforms.
“You’ll hang if you don’t,” Ross told him. “I’m going to keep possession of the evidence against you, and I will use it at the first sign that you are not performing your job to Morgan’s satisfaction.”
“How do you know I won’t bolt?”
“Because if you do, I will personally track you down and kill you. Your sister’s life, not to mention my own, would be far more pleasant without you in it.”
The atmosphere was alive with hostility. Ross could see that Gentry almost believed the threat. He waited patiently, letting him mull over his options.
The young man sent him a baleful stare. “You’re going to use me,” he muttered. “I’ll be some kind of damned feather in your cap, and you’ll use any public favor I’ve got left to further your own plans for Bow Street. The newspapers will hail you for converting Nick Gentry into a Bow Street runner. You’ll make me betray everyone I know, and give evidence against all my accomplices. And after ensuring that I’m despised by every man, woman, and child from Dead Man’s yard to Gin Lane, you’ll send me to catch thieves and murderers in the places where I’m most hated. On top of all that, the salary you give me won’t be worth a damn.”
Ross considered the accusation thoughtfully. “Yes,” he said, “that sums it up fairly well.”
“Jaysus.” Gentry let out a mirthless laugh. “Go swive yourself, Cannon!”
One of Ross’s black brows arched. “Shall I take that as a yes?”
Gentry responded with a curt nod. “I’m going to regret this,” he said sourly. “At least the hangman would have snuffed me quickly.”
“Now that we’ve come to an agreement, I’ll take you back to your cell,” Ross said pleasantly. “You’ll be released tomorrow morning. In the meanwhile, I have some arrangements to make.”
“Ross,” Sophia said anxiously, “must John go back in there tonight?”
“Yes.” His gaze dared her to protest.
Prudently she kept her mouth closed, although it was clear that she longed to plead for her brother’s sake.
“It’s all right, Sophia,” Gentry murmured. “I’ve stayed in worse places than this.” He slanted a baleful glance at Ross as he added, “Courtesy of your husband.”
Over the course of a ten-year relationship, Ross had never managed to shock Sir Grant Morgan as he did now. Returning to Bow Street No. 3, he went directly to Morgan’s office and described the agreement he had reached with Gentry.
Morgan stared at him with complete incomprehension. “What did you say? Nick Gentry can’t be a runner.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s Nick Gentry, that’s why!”
“Youcan make him into a runner.”
“Oh, no,” Morgan said vehemently, shaking his head. “God, no. I haven’t complained about the extra work you’ve heaped on me, or all the trials-by-fire you’ve put me through. And if the appointment goes through, I’ll do my best to fill your shoes. But I’ll be damned if you’re going to retire and leave me with the task of training Nick Gentry! If you think he can be a runner, train him yourself!”
“You are better equipped than I to manage him. You were a runner—you came from the streets just as he did. And remember, he’s only twenty-five—still young enough to be influenced.”
“He’s a hardened case, and only a fool would believe otherwise!”
“In time,” Ross continued, ignoring the protest, “Gentry might be the best man you’ve got. He’ll do the worst and most dangerous jobs without flinching. I am giving you a weapon, Grant—one that could be used very effectively.”
“Or blow up in my face,” Morgan muttered. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling with a surly grunt. Clearly, he was envisioning the prospect of training Nick Gentry. Suddenly he let out a sardonic laugh. “It might be worth it, though. After all the trouble that little bastard has caused us, I would enjoy running him through the wringer.”
Ross smiled, reflecting on Nick Gentry’s strapping form and thinking that only someone of Morgan’s stature could refer to him as “little.” “You’ll give it some consideration, then.”
