Page 32 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
Kara returned his grin, but they were distracted as the coach pulled up to a building just around the corner.
“Do you wish to stay here and keep dry while I go in with Jeanette?” Niall asked his wife.
“No, I’ll go along and help,” Kara said with a glance toward the flower seller.
“I don’t want the landlady to get the wrong idea,” Jeanette said. “If she saw me taking a toff like you into my rooms alone, she’d likely double my rent.”
Niall winced. “Let’s go, then. The rain is picking up.” He hustled them out of the carriage and through the half gate outside the boardinghouse. They were hurrying toward the steep stairs leading up to the entrance when Jeanette suddenly stopped in her tracks.
“Go on,” Niall urged. “The wind is growing colder by the minute.”
“Look,” she said, gesturing. Her voice was pitched low.
He followed the direction of her gaze. Someone stood before the wide door at the top of the stairs. A man in a greatcoat. He was affixing something to the front of the door.
“It’shim,” Jeanette whispered.
“Back to the carriage,” Niall ordered the women. He gave both of them a push back and stepped around in front of them. “Go,” he said, before advancing to the first step. “You there,” he called up. “What are you doing?”
The figure froze. The man’s head turned. Niall just caught the hint of light hair in the glow from the windows before the man turned, grasped the railing, and leapt to the ground, landing and stumbling just a few feet to the side of the stairs.
Niall reached for him, but the man lunged to his feet and ran, jumping over the low fence to the pavement before the next house, then heading into the street.
With a curse, Niall pelted after him. The wind-driven rain stung his eyes as he chased the man along the wet, empty streets. His prey kept his head down as he ran. When he glanced back, he saw that Niall had gained on him, and reached into his coat.
Niall saw the glint of gaslight on the pistol. Cursing again, he ducked, the pavement cold and wet on his bare knee. The shot struck the iron railing to his left, shooting out a shower of sparks and ricocheting into the night.
The man threw the pistol down and took off again. Niall tore after him. They raced through the warren of streets, down a filthy alley and into a wider lane. The fugitive ducked into another dark alley—a mistake, Niall realized as he followed on his heels, for it emerged into a cramped court with no other exit.
Breathing heavily, the man lurched from one side of the space to the other. Niall thought he would dart into one of the buildings facing the court, but instead the man squared his shoulders and came at him on a run, hoping to force his way past.
Reaching out, Niall grasped the man’s shoulder and spun him about, shoving him back into the alley wall. He knocked the man’s hat off his head, noted the light, strawberry-blond hair, and stared into the man’s red, rage-filled face. “Mr. Arnold, I presume?” he asked, his chest heaving. “You saved us the trouble of tracking you down.”
The man snarled in response.
From the sporran he wore over his kilt, Niall pulled the set of wrist cuffs Wooten had given him long ago. Honestly, he’d never thought to use them, but now he was glad he’d thought to bring them. The young man resisted, but he was no match against the strength of Niall’s forge-trained grip.
“Come along, then,” Niall told him. “You’ve some questions to answer down at Scotland Yard.”
*
Kara, bless her,was quick-witted enough to have left Jeanette inside her rooms when she met him outside. Niall hustled young Fred Arnold into the carriage and set John Coachman to watch him while he took his wife aside. “Listen, the hour is late and there is no one respectable out in this foul weather,” he told her. “You’ll have a hard time finding a hack, and I don’t like the idea of the two of you walking alone to Lake Nemi. Why don’t you stay here with Jeanette untilmorning, then take her to Emelia?” He jerked his head toward the carriage. “I’ll take him to the Yard, wait to see what Wooten can get out of him, then I’ll meet you in the morning.”
“You’ll be all right with him?” she asked, glancing over.
“He’s fast, I’ll give you that, but he poses no threat now.”
“Fine, then,” she agreed reluctantly. “But take these.” She handed over a stack of broadsheets.
He moved so that he could see them in the misty light of a streetlamp, then sighed. It showed a voluptuous, red-haired girl with a flower between her teeth importuning gentlemen in the street. “Accusing her—disparaging her, really—for the exact behavior she refused to engage in,” Niall said in disgust. “And how much of his father’s money do you think he spent, commissioning this image and having it printed?”
“There’s my thrifty Scot,” Kara said, placing a hand on his cheek and standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “Do be careful,” she whispered.
He gave her his promise and another smacking kiss before he climbed into the coach and they set off, but it was several hours before he sorted the confusion at Scotland Yard, succeeded in convincing a sergeant to summon Wooten, explained the situation, and ended up sitting in an interview room with the inspector and the sullen young nobleman.
“Why ishehere?” Arnold sneered. “And where is my father? I don’t want to say anything until he arrives.”
“I’m representing the interests of the man who was accused of the crimes thatyouactually committed,” Niall said dryly.
