(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters here.

Chapter 5 (part 1)

Richard tucked Harriet close to his side as he sat in the hackney outside the townhouse that stood at the address on the note found in the watch. “This is not a good idea,” he muttered.

“It is the only way,” Harriet assured him.

He shook his head and blew out a breath. “We could have put your clothes on someone else.”

“That would have been too big a risk,” she countered.

Before he could find a way to refute her argument – which was true, and he knew it – the door to the house opened, and both Louis and another man exited and made their way toward the hackney.

“Stay deep in the shadows until I am out and the door it closed,” Harriet said to Richard before giving him a quick kiss and sliding toward the door.

“If anything happens to you….” He would never be able to live with himself or forgive Lillesley for allowing her to take part in this scheme.

“Nothing will happen.” There was a slight tremor in her voice. “I will be fine.” The tremor was gone. It was as if she had swallowed whatever fear had arisen and vanquished it in a heartbeat. “We will save Louis’s sister, and I will be Mrs. Richard Fitzwilliam. I will be.”

The determination in her voice made him smile despite his nervousness. How he loved his lionhearted lady!

“Where is your sister?” she asked Louis as soon as the door to the hackney was opened.

“She is inside the house,” the man behind Louis said. “She will be allowed to leave as soon as you are inside.”

“No.” Harriet shook her head even as she began sliding out of the carriage. “She must come out before I go in.”

The man’s replying laugh was as icy as a winter’s day. “I do not think a lady with her hands and feet tied is in a position to negotiate with me.” He threw her over his shoulder and grunted. “You are not a slight thing, are you?”

“Are you the man who killed my brother for his watch?” she asked.

Richard quietly exited the carriage through the door on the opposite side as Louis closed the door through which Harriet had gone.

“No. I keep track of the ladies like you.”

Richard heard a thwack.

“I will thank you not to hit my person,” Harriet cried.

“I will hit what I want to hit,” the man said. “Especially when you are asking questions about things that are none of your business. I will remind you only this once that you belong to me now.” 

“Oh, I will not be with you long. My brother and his friend will find you. They are both very good shots you know.”

Again, Richard heard that cold laugh.

“But will they find you?” he asked.

Richard sneered at the back of the man holding Harriet. They did not even have a need to find her. He was here, and Edmund was close by.

“Before we go in, call my sister to the door.”

Louis had stepped between the door and the man they were here to capture.

“One goes in while the other comes out,” he added.

The man cursed. “If it will get rid of you sooner and get her in the house faster, then, open the door.”

Louis obliged.

“Carrick bring the girl,” he called.

“You could put me down while we wait,” Harriet suggested. Her head was up, and she was looking around until she saw Richard standing near the head of the horse attached to the carriage. She gave him a nod. “It cannot be good for your shoulder to be holding me like this. I hear that aches and pains mend less quickly as a man ages.”

Richard could see that Harriet’s hands were free. A few shakes of her feet and the loosely tied rope at her feet would also fall away. She touched her hat as the man grumbled his reply.

“I am not old, and you are not running away. You are mine.”

Her hat fell to the ground.

“How would I run with a rope around my feet?”

“I will not take the chance. You are needed.”

“For what am I needed?”

“For what do you think?” the man replied.

“I am sure I do not know.” That was a blatant lie. Harriet knew far more about what this man was involved in than any proper young lady should.

“For pleasure, of course,” the man answered.

Harriet’s gasp in reply to this was louder than normal. It was a sure sign she was acting the part of a naive lady.

Carrick was at the door with a young maid. My, she was a little thing. Likely younger than her brother Louis, who now had her wrapped in his arms.

“Get out of the way so I can go in,” the man grumbled.

Richard sprang into action as Louis, with his arms still wrapped around his sister, hurried away from the door.

“I think I would like to join you,” Richard said as he bounded up the steps and pushed his way into the house ahead of Harriet. “Put her down.”

“Get out of my way. Carrick!”

Behind him, Richard heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol being made ready to shoot. “I have only to duck or step to the side and you’ll kill your own man. Indeed, at this range, the bullet might go through me and into him.”  He grabbed the guy holding Harriet and pulled him close. “Put her down.”

He pushed Richard away. “She’s mine.”

“No, she is not,” Harriet said right before the man holding her cried out and dropped her.

“My back!” He shouted as he spun around.

Harriet scooted away and freed her legs.

“What did you do to me?” he lunged toward Harriet.

Richard pushed him backward, causing him to fall down the steps.

“I have him,” Jimmy said as he jumped down from his horse. “Go get the others. Lillesley and the rest should be in there already.”

Harriet handed the rope from her feet to Jimmy. “Go,” she said to Richard. “I will stay right here.”

“Promise me?”

“I promise.” She handed him a slightly bloody hat pin. “I case you need it.” He smiled. She would always try to keep him safe, would she not?

“I will make sure nothing happens to her,” Louis added from the door to the hack where his sister was now safely stowed.

And with that assurance, Richard entered the house.

---

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters here.

Chapter 4 (part 2)

The blast from Richard’s gun seemed to rattle every pretty thing hanging on the walls of the corridor in which he shot the fellow who refused to follow orders. The other man – the one who had come down the stairs and not through a window – looked one way and then the other, as if contemplating his options.

“I have one shot left,” Richard said. “I rarely miss.”

Of course, the man was likely going to die even if he did enter the study as he was told to do. It would just be some time before he met the hangman’s noose should he comply with Richard’s orders, and it would make their job much easier if the man were living and could be made to give up whatever information he held. If he did, transportation might spare his life.

Thankfully, this fellow did not seem as anxious to die as the other one and stepped into the study.

“They have my sister,” he said as he entered. “I have not done anything other than leave the window unlocked so that fellow could enter. I wasn’t going to do more than make sure the miss was safe and show him where the watch was.”

“What do you mean make sure the miss was safe?” Lillesley said as he rose from where he sat.

Now that Richard was closer to the fellow, he could see that he was no more than sixteen at the oldest, and a groom from Lillesley’s stables. He was tall and muscular for his age, but he was young enough to not need a razor to keep his cheeks smooth.

“They wanted…” He paused and looked for all the world as if he were going to burst into tears. “They wanted your sister.” The words came out in nothing more than a whisper.

“They wanted me?” Harriet stood at the door of the study that led to the little library.

As the groom turned his eyes to her, a tear slid down his cheek. “Yes, miss. But I wasn’t going to let them have you. I was going to tell you to hide, but you weren’t in your room. I could never…” his voice trailed off. “But my sister…” Again, his words trailed away as if speaking further would be too painful.

“What have they done with your sister, Louis?” Harriet had crossed the room and taken the fellow by the hand.

“Harriet,” Lillesley grumbled.

“Did you not hear him? He was not here to kidnap me. He is here to free his sister.” She turned a sharp look toward her brother.

“That is what he says, but it still stands that he let a thief and would be kidnapper into my home.” 

“I can see how that would show him in a bad light.”

“I think it is more than a bad light,” Lillesley grumbled.

Richard stepped forward. “Why do we not let Louis sit and explain to us what he was hired to do while Jimmy finds the appropriate people to dispose of the fellow in the hall.” He nodded to Jimmy who left the room.

“As Louis takes his seat, I will remind you, dear brother, that he was trying to mitigate damages to things more precious than a watch.” Harriet took the seat next to Louis. “At least, I believe I am more valuable.”

“Of course you are,” both Richard and Lillesley said in unison.

“And Louis mentioned his sister,” she turned to the groom next to her. “Is she a maid?”

“She was until yesterday.” His breathing was laboured as if he were attempting to keep his composure. “If they know that you know they have her, she’ll end up like Penny. That’s what I was told.”

“Who told you that?” Lillesley asked.

“Well, him,” Louis said with a nod toward the door. “But he said he heard it from a fellow named Carrick who told him it was you, miss, who found it. The watch that is. That was why they wanted you. He said you were too much trouble.”

“I am that,” Harriet agreed with a smile. “But you were going to warn me?”

“I was. I unlocked the window and then, sneaked up the servants’ stairs to tell you to hide, but you weren’t there.”

“How did you know to look for the watch? I have not told anyone that I had it?” Lillesley said.

“They knew it was your sister who found it, so I suppose they decided it must be here. I did not know that anyone was looking for a watch until they sought my help in getting it in return for…” The lad looked down at his hands and did not finish his thought.  

Harriet’s head tipped to the side. “But how did you know that it would be in the study? Why did you not look for it in my room? Or for that matter, why did you not think that I had given it to my sister as I told the shopkeeper I was going to do.”

Louis was looking utterly confused. “I did not know you had mentioned your sister to a shopkeeper, but I had heard that something had been found and your brother was none too pleased. I was not supposed to hear it. But I did.”

Harriet stood and began pacing. “Why is that watch so special?”

“I do not know, miss.”

“What would make someone steal it not once, but attempt to do it a second time?” Harriet continued as if she had not even heard his reply. And likely she had not. Richard could tell from the line between her eyes that she was deep into her thoughts.

“I do not know that either.”

Again, the groom’s reply was not noted by Harriet as she rounded her brother’s desk and pulled open the drawer. “And what does that have to do with maids being stolen and ruined?” She looked at Louis. “Is there anything that you might have heard that was unusual? What did they say about your sister besides threatening to toss her in the Thames?”

Louis shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Do you know where she is?” Harriet pressed.

Again, he shook his head. “When I asked, the answer was not in English, so I do not know. I do not speak French.”

Harriet turned the watch over in her hand. “French?” She looked at Richard. “So is it espionage or smuggling? But with maids?” She tapped the watch, looking utterly confused, which was pretty much how he felt at present. There seemed to be nothing new to learn from Louis. “Why this watch?” she muttered.

“I do not know, miss. I just know that I was told it was not to be sold. It was more valuable than that.”

Lillesley stood and came to stand in front of Louis. “What do you know about smuggling secrets?”

The lad shrank back. “I love my county, my lord,” Louis said quickly. “I don’t know anything about…” He swallowed and lowered his voice to a whisper, “secrets.”

Lillesley rubbed his chin as he studied the fellow. “No, I would imagine you do not.” Apparently, he did not think Louis was involved very deeply in this whole thing. Likely no more than he had admitted to. “Nor do you know about them now.” He held the lad’s gaze.

“Of course, my lord.”

Lillesley blew out a breath. “This cannot go through the Old Bailey.”

“No, we knew that before anything happened,” Richard agreed. “He will need to be taken to the Great House.”

“What does that mean, my lord?” Louis was looking quite ill.

“It means you will be dealt with outside of the regular means of the law, but you will be dealt with fairly.” He cast a look at Richard. “You may even find yourself employed in various pursuits as needed.”

Richard shook his head. “You said you did not know about Wickham.”

“I did not. However, I do know that occasionally, employment is offered in place of other more exacting punishments.”

“I was not going to hurt her,” Louis cried. “I was not even going to touch the watch. I just want my sister back.”

Harriet came to stand near her brother. “I believe it should be noted that Louis aided in solving one riddle.” She held a tiny slip of paper in her fingers. “This was inside Andrew’s watch.”

---

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters here.

Chapter 4 (Part 1)

Richard stretched and yawned. He was supposed to be at home in his own bed, not sitting guard in the little library at Lillesley house. Of course, it was his own doing. No one had given him this assignment. He had volunteered for it.

Dinner at their club had produced a couple of interesting leads where the watch was concerned. Most people had not paid attention to Lillesley’s frequent checking of the time, but two had. One was a footman, and the other was Mr. Newland, a fellow of social standing whose means had been squandered some years back but was now well on its way to being replenished, thanks to a relative of some sort who had passed away just over a year ago. Strangely, his relation’s passing had occurred close to the same time that Harriet’s older brother, Andrew, had died.

It was that bit of coincidence, paired with his obvious appreciation for the engraving on Lillesley’s watch – both of which had come to light during a card game after dinner – which had marked him as suspicious.

The fact that he seemed to be on exceptionally friendly terms with one of the footmen, named Carrick, had changed Lillesley’s opinion of the servant from being someone who admired the finer things in life, which his station did not afford him, to a possible informant and associate of Newland’s.

To the untrained eye, the two men would have appeared as jovial and amiable – the one being counted as a fabulous dinner guest, and the other as a servant who would make any household appear to be of the finest and most welcoming sort.

However, Richard’s eye was not untrained. To him, they were too agreeable. Too eager to please. Too charming. Their good nature read like a veneer applied to a damaged table to hide the scars made by some sort of accident.

Soft footfalls in the hall stopped his ruminations about the men from the club. As he sat in the silent darkness of the little library, a soft glow from a candle could be seen drawing ever closer to the library door.

He had heard no doors or windows open, so whomever this was had either entered through the kitchen or was a member of the household.

A few moments later, a vision of loveliness stood in the doorway.

“Your brother would be less than pleased to know you were here,” Richard whispered. And likely he did know since he was in his study.

“Then, it is a good thing that he is not here yet,” Harriet replied, as she walked along the bookshelves to the right of the room, stopping now and again to run a finger along the spine as if she were contemplating reading that volume. “I need something to occupy my mind,” she said softly. “Or I will spend the full night trying to piece things together. As it is, I have gone over what we know from three different viewpoints – at least twice.”

She pulled a book from the shelf and then, made her way to the chair next to his.

“It is best if you return to your room to read,” Richard said. Having her here could prove to be a distraction. It was not guaranteed that she would be, but there was the possibility. Added to that, there would be danger to be had if someone came looking for that watch.

“I will. In a minute or two.” She placed her book and candle on the table near her chair before snuffing out her light. “I would just like to sit her and hold your hand for a time. I promise not to be a distraction.”

He heard her making herself comfortable in her chair and then, felt her hand tap the arm of his chair. He obliged her by taking it, which elicited a sigh from her.

So they sat for more than a minute or two. Indeed, they sat as they were until Harriet’s hand and arm fell limp and he could hear soft, even breathing coming from where she sat. Apparently, her mind had finally found some rest and allowed her body to follow.

To be honest, having her sitting next to him, made the task of listening and watching in the dark more bearable. His thumb brushed back and forth across hers, and his mind wandered to things that had nothing to do with traitors and murderers. Instead, he imagined evenings before a fire, sitting as they were now. He pictured children on his lap and at his feet. He contemplated being the master of his own little estate.

The idea had, at one time, seemed a drudgery. Something that would hold little to entertain or excite him. So mundane. So dull.

He placed a gentle kiss on Harriet’s hand. Nothing would be dull or mundane with her as his wife. She was not the sort to simply sit, stitch, and entertain callers. That thought had just started him thinking about what she would wish for in her home and duties when the distinct sound of a window sliding open with a soft squealing complaint was heard.

Carefully, he returned Harriet’s hand to her lap, and rising, readied himself to confront the intruder directly if necessary, or after the interloper had attempted to gain what he wanted.

Richard could just make out Harriet’s sleeping form in the greyness of the room. Her plan was coming to fruition. He’d hate for her to miss it, and it would be dangerous for her to wake in the midst of whatever happened. Therefore, he decided to alert her to what was occurring. That way she would be ready to escape to safety should it become necessary.

“Harriet,” he whispered near her ear, “someone is here.”

He felt her wake.

“Stay here and remain silent for as long as you are able,” he instructed, before giving her cheek a kiss.

A whispered “I will” was her only reply.

A floorboard creaked in hall. Whomever it was, was light of foot, for he was making very little noise as he crept nearer to the study. He also seemed to know exactly where he was going. This bit of information caused a realization to crash upon Richard with some force. There was only one way for the intruder to know where to go. Someone inside Lillesley’s home was playing two sides.

Carefully, he moved to stand next to the door, where he could see just a bit of the corridor, but he, himself, would not be seen from the hall.

A second set of stealthy steps descended from above.

“She’s not there,” the one whisper to the other. “Do you have the watch?’

She’s not there? Who was the she they were speaking of?

“Not yet,” the other answered.

“Then, it might be best to leave it,” the first man said.

“We can’t and you know it,” the other answered in a soft snarl.

“But if she is not in her room, she might be sitting guard in her brother’s study.”

Richard sucked in a breath. The she they were looking for was Harriet!

“You have no idea how devious that one is,” the first man continued. “She’s the one who found the watch, you know.”

“How would she know I was coming for it?”

“I don’t know how, but I am telling you, she’s smarter than any of those military men Lillesley employs.”

“I don’t see no light coming from under that door,” the second man said. “And it’ll make our job easier if she’s there. We can get both of the things we need at the same time.”

Richard heard the door to Lillesley’s office open.

“I say, is there no one to announce you?” The question rang loud and clear from the other room and was followed by soft light illuminating the hall. Jimmy had lit a sconce further down the hall and was now standing in the way of escape at that end.

Richard sprang into action to make certain that his end of the hall was also unable to be used for escape. He drew his pistol. “Into the study,” he ordered. “Both of you.”

---

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters here.

Chapter 3 (Part 2)

Somewhere behind him, someone – namely Lillesley – cleared his throat. As if that was going to stop Richard from kissing his fill of his betrothed.

A second throat clearing. This time louder.

Harriet giggled, putting an end to the heat of their kiss. Still, he lingered with his lips on hers for a few seconds longer before holding her securely in his arms but not turning to face her brother.

“Do you know who they have paired with Samuels and Fredericks?” He tossed the question over his shoulder.

“No, I cannot say that I have heard,” Lillesley replied. “In fact, I was not even informed that there were more than four of you assigned to this task.”

“Yes. Well… there is one more than four.” Richard kissed the top of Harriet’s head and then released her from his embrace. “And it seems that you are not the only person willing to use a certain ne’er-do-well to gain information.

“Do you mean that Wickham fellow?” Harriet asked with no little amount of incredulity in her tone.

“Certainly not!” her brother exclaimed.

“Harry is right. As she often is.” Taking Harriet’s hand, he led them across the room to the door to Lillesley’s study where the man was standing. “She’ll join us,” he added when his friend looked at Harriet and then back at him with a lifted brow. “It will make it easier for all of us.”

Lillesley shook his head and sighed but allowed Richard and Harriet to enter his study. “Not a word of any of this leaves this room,” he growled at his sister.

As if she would.

It was not the right way to approach her, and Richard smiled as his Harriet lifted her chin and glared down her nose at her brother for a half second before saying very primly, “I know far more secrets than one might expect.” She added a saucy grin as she took a seat and said, “Some you would be shocked to know I have discovered.”

Richard eyed her for a moment. If he was to guess by the way she squeezed her hands together tightly in her lap, she was bluffing – trying to draw her brother out to vent her displeasure with him questioning her ability to be discreet.

Thankfully, Lillesley did not fall for her ploy. “I am certain there are, but at present, I find I do not care to learn what secrets you know or how you know them.” He smiled, which caused his sister to huff softly. Then he turned to Richard. “Did Samuels say why Wickham has been included?”

“He did. Wickham has…” He paused when a knock sounded on the proper door to the study. Lillesley rose and opened the door just far enough to see who was there.

“A letter has arrived for you, my lord.”

It was the butler.

“And how did it arrive?”

“Through the kitchen by way of the stables, my lord.”

It was from someone in their network then.

Lillesley closed the door and broke the seal to the letter as he returned to his desk. “It seems I have been notified that a person with knowledge of the workings of the underbelly of society has been enlisted to help us come to a hopefully hasty conclusion to this mess,” he said as he scanned the missive before taking his seat again at his desk.

“Wickham claims he would know the man who likely killed the shopkeeper by site, though he does not know his name.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Samuels mentioned Wickham knew traitors. Is our theory about secrets being bought and sold along with maids, true?”

Lillesley shot a quick look at his sister. “From what I have just read, it appears to be substantiated though there are no details here.” 

The room sat in silence for a moment until Harriet broke it with a question.

“Did Andrew know about the espionage involved in this matter?”

“I cannot say,” her brother replied, though he did not look at his sister. Instead, he remained focused on the letter he held. It was a sure sign that the answer he gave was accurate but not informative.

“And if he did – which he did since you did not glare at me –”

Richard chuckled as Harriet continued.

“Then, did the traitor know? Or was Andrew pretending to be a traitor to draw him out? Oh!” she gasped. “Did Penny discover something she was not supposed to know? Could that be why she ended up in washed up along the Thames like that shopkeeper?”

Lillesley held up a hand to stop the rapid questions. “We would all like to know the answers to those questions.”

“They are plausible – every ,” Richard said.

“I know,” Lillesley agreed. “And I have my thoughts on it.”

Harriet had risen and was pacing a small circuit from her chair to the small hearth and back.

Her brother settled back in his chair and motioned for Richard to remain silent as they both watched Harriet. They both knew that when she was close to figuring something out, she fidgeted or paced. She had done so since she was a girl.

She came to a stop. “Are you going out tonight?” she asked her brother.

“I have no plans to, since I knew the colonel was being relieved of his duty today.”

Her brow furrowed as she grimaced. “Perhaps you should go together.” She blew out a breath as if what she had just said was not something she wanted to say.

“Why?” Richard prompted. “What are you thinking? How will that help us?”

“If you were to go out and wear Andrew’s watch, making sure to show it off as you check the time in any of the places Andrew might have frequented…” She sighed and then, shook her head as she looked to the ceiling. “It would be dangerous, but it might bring the right people to you.” She returned to her seat. “Andrew had that watch when he was killed, and the shopkeeper was killed because of that watch – or so we suspect. It is the only thing I can think of to connect the events.”

“It is a worthy idea,” Lillesley agreed. “Perhaps I will start by having dinner at my club tonight.”

Harriet nodded. “Andrew did that often.” Her comment was soft.

Richard gave her hand a squeeze. “I will go with him, and then, return here for a while before I head home, if that meets with everyone’s approval.”

“I would like that very much.” She did not need to say so. Her smile had informed Richard of her approval before she could so much as form the first word of her response. 

“And I … suppose I can tolerate it as well,” her brother said with a laugh. “Now, if you would be so kind as to allow my best man to give his report about how tiresome his days at his apartment were to me without an audience, I will make sure he sees you before he goes home to change for dinner.”

Harriet rose.

“There is nothing of significance to report,” Richard assured her when she hesitated before leaving.

“If you are certain…”

“I am.” And with that reassurance, she left them alone. Though Richard was sure she had not gone far.

(There’s a new part of this story dropping Saturday in the Broadsheet, so it’s time to give last month’s part it’s own post so it can be found more easily.)

Find previous chapters here.

Chapter 3 (Part 1)

One week later, Richard rubbed his neck, bending it from side to side in an attempt to eliminate the kinks and stiffness. His eyes burned from lack of sleep. If only he could find the information that he needed to put this whole ordeal behind him and spend a great deal more time with Harriet.

As it was, he’d only seen her once since returning from Hertfordshire – the day on which he had been given the task he was now trying to see done. Maddening task that it was. Sitting at a window watching the comings and goings of the people below him. Listening to the noises and conversations that passed by his door.

He had never felt such a desire to be done with an assignment before this. And not just because being confined to one location was torturous. Nor was it due to the only barely adequate furnishings and fittings of his hideout. However, on that subject…

He stood, threw his arms wide, and then reached over head. Every movement caused pain. The bed in this room needed a better mattress because it was most decidedly uncomfortable.

He was glad for the few days reprieve he was about to receive. His partner had already left about two hours ago. It was best for them not all to leave at once you see. Things needed to appear to be somewhat normal for the type of living arrangements that were found here. Transient behaviour was not unusual, but looking too formal in how things were done was.

Therefore, he had been left alone to see the next man take up his post.

When his replacement arrived, he would be able to leave this little hovel from which he watched the world, see Harriet, and sleep in a proper bed – whether that be at Darcy House or Matlock House. It really did not matter. As long as it was well stuffed and tied.  

A key turned in the lock of the small first floor room that sat above a store front, but Richard ignored it and turned to shove the last of his articles into his bag.

“I must say I am pleased to see you, Samuels. It has been a long and uneventful week …” His voice trailed off as he turned and saw that Samuels was not alone. To say he was shocked by who accompanied Samuels was akin to saying a bullet though the thigh was not but a scratch.

He looked first to the man behind Samuels and then to his fellow officer. “Why is he here?”  His voice was low and menacing as he struggled to rein in his fury. “Why is he not on a transport ship well on his way to some god-forsaken location far from England’s shores?  Or better yet, why is he not dangling at the end of a hangman’s noose?” 

“You know why he is not dead,” Samuels replied. “Reputations and questions.”

Richard blew out a breath. Hanging was too public a death for a scoundrel like this one. “Could he not have slipped and cracked his head somewhere? There are ways to be rid of him that do not involve anyone questioning how he died.” Unless the man had a sister like Harriet. Then, there would always be questions. The thought nearly made him smile. Nearly.

This man, however, did not have a sister. He was an only child. In fact, he did not even have a father or mother any longer and very few true friends. Associates? Yes. Employed henchmen? At one time, yes. Friends? That thought deserved a derisive snort. Mr. Wickham did not seem to know how to keep friends.

“It appears I have skills that you do not,” that very miscreant said with a mocking smile.

“If you mean a life that is expendable, then, you are correct,” Samuels spat. “Remember what you were told and what you saw.” This part was growled in a whisper. “We have just come from the great house,” he added to Richard, who nodded his understanding.

He had heard of the place, though he had never been there himself. As he understood it, there was an entrance that led to a study of sorts and a few “accommodations” that came with locks and guards on a lower level, where one would normally expect to find servants and the workings of a grand London townhouse.

“This is not Lillesley’s doing then?”

Samuels shook his head. “Though, I suspect he will know about it soon enough.”

“Oh, he will,” Richard muttered. For Lillesley House was first on his places to visit when he left here.

Samuels chuckled.

“I hope you were promised a reward of some sort for taking on this blackguard.”

“Rest assured, I was. I only hope it is worth the effort.” He tossed the bag he carried on the bed. “You may have the floor,” he added to Wickham. “Not that it will be much more comfortable than the bed.”

“There’s a truth if I ever heard one,” Richard agreed. “Now tell me. What skills do you have?” He moved a step closer to Wickham as he asked his question.

The smile on Wickham’s face faltered a moment. It was a small tell, but a tell none-the-less. The man had never tried to challenge Richard. Darcy, he would taunt and torment, but not Richard. That was likely because he knew that Richard would act without overthinking. Darcy would not.

“I know people.”

Richard stepped closer. “What kinds of people?”

Wickham’s throat moved up and down as he swallowed. Richard found it gratifying to make the man fearful.

“Unsavoury sorts and traitors,” Samuels answered. “Along with a certain shopkeeper.”

Richard cocked an eyebrow. “The one found near the Thames?” He darted a look at Samuels, who nodded.

“Did you kill him?” Richard asked Wickham.

“I have never taken a life,” Wickham spat back.

Richard made a scoffing noise. “Maybe not with your own hands, but there was a footman who came near to death recently, and the men you employed were behind that. It is enough for me to condemn you with them.”

Wickham’s eyes narrowed. “I sold him some goods some time ago. He was a jovial fellow who asked very few questions. Not the sort whom I would remove from my network.”

“Then, you know who killed him.” It was not a question. It was a fact. There was no other reason for a man like Wickham to be included in this operation. And still he was not sure the benefit outweighed the risk.

“I may,” he admitted. “Though I do not know his name, I would recognize his face.”

Richard turned from him. “What becomes of him once he identifies the person we need.”

Again, Samuels chuckled. “Well, for one thing, he gets to keep all his fingers. That is, he does if I say he does.” He sent a devilish grin in Wickham’s direction, while that man looked a touch ill at the mention. “There is a jar…” he added in a whisper to Richard

Truly? Richard had thought that the story of a jar filled with severed fingers was a myth, circulated to create a sinister mystic around the man who lived at the great house – Lillesley’s superior – a name that was rarely mentioned. He would have to ask Samuels about that jar later. Surely, a lord of the realm did not go around slicing off fingers and thumbs from those who crossed him. Did he?

“Beyond that, things have not been decided, but cooperation will likely mean he does not get transported… or worse.” Samuels sank down on the bed next to his bag and smirked. “Fredericks is to join us, and Wickham here is not pleased with that since Fredericks knows so much about him.”

Richard chuckled. “Give him my regards. I will leave you to things.”

“Congratulations to you,” Samuels said. “I hear you are to be married.”

“You have a lady?” Wickham asked with no little amount of interest.

“He does,” Samuels replied. “And she is both pretty and clever – or so, I hear from her brother. Well, the pretty part I have seen with my own eyes. The clever part is what I have on authority from her brother.”

“She is both,” Richard agreed. “In fact,” he said, turning to Wickham, “she is at least as clever as the soon to be Mrs. Darcy, though perhaps a bit more daring.” The mention of Elizabeth made Wickham scowl.

Samuels let out a low whistle. “That is impressive.”

“I will not argue with you about that.” Richard placed his hat on his head. “Now, if you will excuse me, I really must call on Lillseley.”

“And his sister,” Samuels added with at laugh as Richard merely acknowledged the truth of his statement with a wave of his hand, while leaving the apartment.