Page 76 of A Translation of Desire
The seller of illicit goods frowned, displeased. “You said you only wanted to speak with her. I won’t allow you to take her away.”
The man sighed, pulled out a pistol, and fired it at Bradford without any hesitation. Rose screamed, shocked by his actions. No artifact was worth all of this. Something else was going on, and she was certain it had to do with Hawley’s associates. Bradford moaned on the ground.
The man pointed to her. “Let’s go. Get in the carriage.”
Rose asked, “Where are we going?”
“A quiet place where you can decipher my document.”
“Who are you?”
The man smiled. It wasn’t pleasant but more sinister—it shot a cold chill down her spine. “Call me Remy.”
Rose nodded and headed towards the carriage but stopped in front of Bradford. He appeared to be gone, but she wasn’t sure. Remy aimed his pistol at him again, but Rose grabbed his hand. “Please stop. He is clearly dead.”
Remy shook her off, scowling. Playing the distressed damsel, she said, “I won’t be able to concentrate if you make me witness you shoot him again. My frazzled nerves will prevent me from deciphering your text.”
The man studied her, and Rose made herself look vulnerable. Not that it was an exaggeration. She truly was. The man had shot someone right in front of her. Her odds of surviving any of this were slim.
He kicked Bradford, and he didn’t budge. Grunting, Remy said, “Let’s go.”
Rose climbed into the carriage, wondering if Bradford somehow survived. Did it really matter? If he was alive, he would probably flee London.
How did she get out of this? Remy settled across from her. It was dark, so she couldn’t see him all that well, but she didn’t doubt he was a real danger to her. Bradford’s death was all the evidence she needed to confirm that. Doubt filled her that this man would let her go of his own free will. Perhaps she could escape the carriage. The curtains on the windows were closed but maybe she could throw herself out of the vehicle. The man seemed distracted. He sat with his eyes closed, leaning against the back of the bench.
Rose made her move, but Remy was too fast. Before she even touched the handle, he hauled her back against the bench, holding her by her throat. Fear did thrum through Rose then. He scowled down at her. “Madame, that was a very poor choice.”
She nodded. He squeezed her neck, cutting off her ability to breathe. “Will you do that again?”
Rose shook her head. He released her and sat back on his bench. “All I need for you to do is decipher my message, and then I will be on my way. It will be like I was never in London.”
His words did nothing to reassure her. Not once did he mention where she would end up at the end of this. She needed a plan to escape from wherever the carriage was taking them. Her life likely depended on it.
*
Augustus, exhausted, satin one of the private sitting rooms of the Den. He was joined by Devons, Derry, Lisbeth, Diana, and Addie. The other ladies of the Historical Society for Female Curators would have also been there if it hadn’t been considered scandalous. Instead, they were at their family townhouses. While Augustus, Devons, and guards had searched for Rose, Derry ensured everyone had plenty of security.
At this point, they all believed Rose had been taken because of her ability to translate the ancient text, but none of them were sure why a collector would want that. Augustus doubted that was who they were truly searching for. He’d sent word to the London Society of Antiquaries and Hawley’s residence so the scholar could meet them at the Den immediately. He’d not shared Hawley’s association but was very close to doing so.
Fury filled him that the man’s games had likely placed Rose in the situation she was in. They’d searched Seely House and any place that held illicit markets. Augustus even visited Abbas, who hadn’t seen anyone. His anger was only outweighed by his fear that they would never find her. Addie and Lisbeth paced back and forth while Diana, Devons’s betrothed, twisted at the folds of her skirt. Devons and Derry sat silently.
Augustus knew that everyone was thinking the same thing. Rose was in real danger. His heart flared in pain at the thought that they may never find her. No, he wouldn’t allow himself to go there. She had to be fine. He would destroy whoever took her. Fuck Hawley and his damn schemes.
“There is something I need to tell—”
His words were halted by Hawley striding into the room, his eyes searched the space until they landed on his wife. Relief flickered over his face before Hawley shuttered the emotion. “Have you found her?”
“No. What do you know?” Addie asked, her eyes narrowing on her husband.
Augustus glared at him. “Tell them, or I will.”
Annoyance flashed in the scholar’s eyes. Augustus rose, ready to strike a blow. Everyone gaped. Hawley held up a hand. “I will.”
Addie frowned. “What is it?”
“The British Secret Service informed me that there is a rumor that someone is using cuneiform text to send messages. At first, they didn’t believe the theft of Rose’s tablets or her kidnapping were associated with the speculation. Now they aren’t sure.”
Everyone stared at him, stunned.
