Page 89 of A Little Bit Dangerous
Aaron spoke up. “There’s been a spate of disappearances from dockside taverns within the last week. The women who walk the alleyways around Shadwell Market have taken to working in pairs. Perhaps Snell ships women out of London, too.”
There was no time to contemplate the matter further.
Panicked shouts rent the air.
The smell of smoke assaulted Christian’s nostrils.
Black plumes billowed into the night sky.
A breathless Gibbs appeared from the darkness, brushing his hands vigorously as if proud of a job well done. “There’ll be no means of escape via the river tonight.”
“Did anyone see you?” Daventry asked.
“No. The watermen were drinking on the bank, and the barges were moored so closely together I only had to set one alight.”
Daventry patted Gibbs on the back before addressing Christian. “Distract the guards until we’re over the wall.” He faced the other men. “We’ll have the gate open in no time. Then we’ll all enter the house together. We won’t shoot unless there’s no option.”
Christian took a moment to step into character. He would do anything for Isabella, even if it meant acting the buffoon.
Swaggering across the road like a drunken vagrant, he approached the gate and waved his rum bottle. “You fellows fancy a swig?” While Aaron and Lucius Daventry scaled the stone wall, Christian whistled a country tune.
“Be on your way!” a guard shouted.
Christian drank from the bottle before spitting rum over the iron railings and pretending to vomit. “Tastes like horse piss. Try it yourself.” He forced the stopper into the neck and hurled the bottle over the gate. It landed with a thud on a patch of grass.
The bravest guard charged forward, calling Christian names the devil wouldn’t dare repeat. “Move along before you get my boot up your arse.”
Christian fumbled with the placket of his trousers. “See if my piss tastes any better.”
Outraged, the guard hauled a ring of keys from his pocket and set about opening the gate. “Filthy swine! Wait until I get my hands—”
Like demons from the shadows, Aaron and Daventry struck, grabbing the men around the neck and pulling them into the bushes. Aaron could silence a man in seconds. Still, Daventry beckoned his agents forward, had them secure the guards’ hands and feet with rope and lock them in the gatehouse.
They navigated the long drive to the Palladian-style mansion.
Finding Isabella was Christian’s only objective, and so he suggested searching for the servants’ entrance.
“We’ll enter through the front door.” A sinister smirk darkened Daventry’s features. “Should anyone raise the alarm, we risk the conte fleeing before we can apprehend him.”
With the devil’s arrogance, they sauntered up the sweeping stone staircase and strode towards two liveried footmen. The servants asked to see their invitations.
“The guards at the gate took them.” Daventry straightened, though the man was intimidating regardless of his height. “We’ll wait here while you seek confirmation.”
The servants glanced at each other, shrugged, then let them pass.
Thirty men had gathered in the extravagant supper room, eating canapés from gold platters and drinking champagne from crystal flutes. Christian recognised one or two. It soon became clear some had journeyed from as far as France and Spain to attend the conte’s secret party.
Aaron handed out the champagne, and they stood with Daventry’s men as if they were guests enjoying the conte’s hospitality.
Daventry lowered his voice. “Sloane. Hunter. Remain in the hall. When the time comes, lock the front door. Prevent anyone from leaving. Fire warning shots if need be. Gibbs will guard the steps and be on hand to offer support.”
Christian’s mounting frustration urged him to say, “Can I not creep through the corridors and hunt for Isabella? I’ll go alone while you deal with matters here.” The more time that passed, the more he feared for her safety. What if the conte escaped and took her hostage?
Aaron gripped his shoulder. “We have the keys to the gate. No one can leave via the river. You have my word she will be in your arms within the hour. Have I ever let you down?”
Daventry was equally persuasive. “While the Home Secretary sanctioned this investigation, rescuing my agent is my main aim. To save Miss Lawton’s life, we must let the conte believe she is a bargaining tool. When men panic, they silence the witnesses.”
The sudden clang of a gong signalled something important.
