A Study in Darkness (19 page)

Keating shook his head. “Holmes is the man. The Blue Boys know my Yellowbacks and their streetkeepers.” Each of the barons had their army of thugs, and they guarded their territory jealously.

Evelina jumped from her chair. “There’s got to be someone else.”

“Are you sure? If I’m wrong and your uncle is of no use to me, then if the Blue King sends another assassin—which he surely will—should I stop him?”

Evelina closed her eyes, fighting the wave of panic that bubbled up inside her. She had to do something to get her uncle out of harm’s way. After all his kindness—his acceptance of who she was—it was the least she owed him.

“Holmes did well enough last time,” Keating said derisively.

The words brought back a scatter of images—her uncle shot and bleeding on the floor of the Roths’ dining room; the gallery opening where the forgeries had been exposed; and Keating offering her his own carriage to take her back to Hilliard House after everyone else had left her behind, including Tobias.

Hard on the heels of that was her fear of falling back into the gutter. She’d struggled so hard to raise herself from the circus to the drawing room, giving up the only family she’d known and mastering every impulse until she could pass as one of the gentry. Falling back into the mud had always been a danger, but that she was in danger of falling because of Tobias—who had said he’d loved her despite her birth—stung doubly hard.

She opened her eyes, barely managing to hide the loathing she felt. Her stomach writhed as Keating leaned forward, putting his face so close to hers she could feel his breath. “Well, Miss Cooper, what is it to be? All you have to do is ask your uncle to perform for me.”

“I will not.”

She’d seen fruits that had rotted from the inside out, the skins unblemished until somebody poked them and they collapsed into a ruin of stink and mold. Someday, she was going to expose Keating’s putrefied core—but it wasn’t going to be that night. As much as she balked at admitting it, he had won this round.
First he took Tobias, now he’s taking my uncle
.

“Then do you propose another method of obtaining the information I require? Surely you have some suggestions. As I understand it, you have something of an acquaintance with, shall we say, the less affluent rungs of society. You had a colorful start in life for a young lady of your class.”

Shock coursed through her, so sharp that she actually jumped.
Bollocks, he knows about Ploughman’s!
It didn’t matter how he’d found out. With one word, he could destroy her reputation once and for all. Society drawing rooms didn’t welcome the sequined daughters of the high wire—
and whatever was said of her would rebound on the rest of her family.

Keating had every card. Evelina fell back into her chair, suddenly dizzy. “You would ruin me.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t ever say something about you that wasn’t true.”

She swallowed, and it felt like shards of glass sliding down her throat. “You would let the Blue King have my uncle.”

“The Blue King, or someone else. Your uncle, or someone else. I’ll leave that to your imagination. I don’t like to put limits on the future.”

Her fingers curled into the glossy fabric of her skirts, leaving angry creases. She’d gone past anger into some other state where the edges of every surface appeared far too crisp, almost as if she had a fever. But her mind was racing, her thoughts as clear and logical as if driven by elegant mathematical equations. Or maybe it was sheer madness.

“I will get you your information,” she said in a crisp voice that hid the wailing panic inside her, “but not the way you propose.”
And I will find some way to make you pay
.

“How?”

“I’ll go myself.”

“You?” His eyebrows rose, the expression almost amused.

The plan wasn’t as preposterous as it sounded. From years of traveling with Ploughman’s, she knew the kind of people who lived in the Blue King’s district. “I can live in the East End without anyone noticing I’m there. It won’t be a disguise for me, so I won’t make the mistakes an outsider would. I’m just as much one of them as I am one of you.” The last words came out in a rush, half mumbled, the specter of her Grandmamma Holmes looking on in angry shame.
Forgive me, but I have to do this
.

“Indeed. How fortunate that you can move so efficiently between two worlds.”

“If I do this, will you keep my uncle out of it?” Her body was tensed, quivering like a drawn bow.

Keating gave her one of his mocking smiles. “With certain conditions … but yes, I think we can come to an arrangement. You’re dealing with this most reasonably.”

And then she understood. She arrowed out of the chair, rushing forward until she stood inches from him, her hands in fists. “You wanted me to do this all along!”

“Did I?”

She was breathing hard, split between wanting to bolt and aching to lunge for this throat. “Why didn’t you just ask? Why threaten my family?”

He shrugged, lifting his chin so that he looked down his long, patrician nose. “As I said earlier this evening, I prefer that you are inspired to excel. And now that I’ve done my part, what happens next is up to you.”

THOSE FATAL WORDS
were still echoing in Evelina’s head when she boarded the train back to London the next morning, and they were still there by the time she reached the smoky outskirts of the city the day after that. The journey home had passed in a haze of disbelief. She’d left London to rejoin Imogen and to report to her uncle about the goings-on at Maggor’s Close. Now she was exiled again from her friend and burdened with a very different task.

It pained her that she couldn’t stand by Imogen, who was alone and vulnerable. And Keating was only one danger. There was the Scarlet King, and the strain of standing up to her parents. If her brother was giving in to a marriage of expediency, they would expect her to as well. Evelina didn’t know Bucky Penner all that well, but if Imogen had chosen him, she would do everything she could to support that decision. Except now she couldn’t be at her friend’s side. The only thing she had been able to do was to leave Mouse and Bird at Maggor’s Close to offer what comfort they could.

Evelina cursed under her breath. It was her own fault she’d landed in this mess. Tobias might have come all the way from London to see her, but she could have walked away. So why had she kissed him?

The question echoed through her with every rattle of the wheels on the track.
Why, why, why, why?
Evelina’s gaze lost focus as she watched the trees and rooftops slip by, the forms melting into one shapeless mass. She leaned against
the window, her chin in her hand as hot tears slid down her cheeks and soaked her glove.

She’d kissed Tobias because of the misery in his eyes. Because he had once been hers, and a part of her wanted to reclaim what they’d almost had. Mostly because he had been right there and so obviously needing her touch.

But Tobias was still caught in Keating’s trap, and now—thanks to their kiss—she was, too. And that was the reason, above all else, that she had to forget Tobias Roth.
I had to let you go
, he’d said.
I would have dragged you down with me, and that wouldn’t have helped anyone
. But he didn’t love her enough to keep his resolve, even though he’d known it was the one way to keep her safe.

But it’s not that easy
. She had faced the exact same thing with Nick. A low cry escaped her.
I gave him up, too, but he found me
. Until she’d forced him away a second time. The danger had been entirely different, but the only way to save them both had been for her to walk away. Twice.

But even if he never forgave her, Nick would tell her to fight like a rabid dog. The first priority was always to keep her loved ones out of harm’s way. And that meant she had to take care of business if that was the best way to get Keating out of her—and her uncle’s—life.

But what if I’ve agreed to do more than I can manage?
Worse, what if she were captured by the Blue King’s men? Dread washed over her, so thick that she felt sick to her stomach. She was caught between two steam barons, and it was hard to say which one presented the greater danger.
It’s like Keating knew exactly what I would say and when I’d say it
. The man was a master manipulator, and their encounter had left her with a fresh objective. If she survived this adventure, her next would be finding out a way to smash Keating like one of his own gold-tinted gaslights.

Her carpetbag was on the seat next to her. She opened the clasp, looking inside, checking the contents obsessively. She’d repacked, loading it with only the items she’d find the most useful. The train case with her tools and supplies for tinkering with clockwork was there, as well as a selection of plain, practical clothes.

There was also a small, worn purse. Among the gentry, servants and men of business generally handled day-to-day transactions, so Evelina didn’t have much cash on hand. She’d asked Keating for a supply of money in small coin, and it was stashed in a dozen places, sewn into clothing, into the lining of her bag, and in the bottom of her toolbox. Only a few coins were in the purse for show.

Keating had also given her a small Webley revolver with an ivory handle as well as a knife in an ankle sheath. She’d never actually owned a gun or a knife before—and fervently hoped she wouldn’t need them—but Nick had taught her how to use both.

They’d made other arrangements. If she needed to contact Keating, she could write to him in care of the Oraculars’ Club, but not directly to any of his residences or regular places of business. Keating would see to it her trunks were sent home in due course. The people at Maggor’s Close—with the exception of Tobias and Imogen—would be told that Evelina was needed back in Devonshire as her grandmother had suddenly taken ill. And as far as her uncle knew, she was at Maggor’s Close. If everything went right, she would return to Baker Street on schedule, with Holmes none the wiser. With luck, she might even keep her reputation intact.

But relying on luck is a tall order. I’m trusting my safety to the man who paid Elias Jones to put a bomb in my uncle’s house. And now I know too much for him to let me back out
. She huddled against the shabby fabric of the train’s upholstery, grateful that she was alone in the compartment so she didn’t have to hide her misery.

Keating had placed an additional condition on their arrangement. She had until Tobias’s wedding to complete the task. The choice of date—as far as the Blue King’s affairs were concerned—was arbitrary in the extreme, and Keating wasn’t one to waste a good twist of the knife. He’d no doubt picked it to remind her why she was in his clutches, and just maybe to keep her out of the way until Tobias was safely wed. And if she missed the date, all Keating’s threats—about revealing her past, about her uncle’s safety, about
never being free of his chains—would come to ugly fruition.

“Damn and blast.” Evelina blinked the view outside the train window into focus. It only made sense to have a contingency—a backup in place in case Keating decided she could stay lost in Whitechapel, never to be heard from again. The thought sent a chill crawling through her, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

Her fingers shook as she rummaged in her carpetbag for her notebook and a pen. She tore out a clean page and started to write.

“Dear Uncle, I write to you with the heaviest of hearts. Alas, the advice you gave me when I left on this holiday I followed all too well, and I have been taught my lesson by the All Powerful.” She stopped and chewed the end of her pencil. She was fairly sure he’d get the idea she meant the Gold King.

“His angelic hosts watch over us night and day, knowing all that passes in our lives.” And by that, Holmes should know 221B Baker Street was under surveillance—which was why the letter had to be written obliquely. There was a good chance their mail might be read, and tipping her hand would be counterproductive if the Gold King changed his mind and decided Evelina was more trouble than she was worth.

“If you do not hear now, you will hear soon of my disgrace, for which I can offer no excuses but the weakness of a young girl’s heart. Grandmamma always predicted that I was made of the same material as my mother, but I am afraid that I am even worse. I threw away my reputation by kissing a man who is promised to another, and now I am making amends.” And that much was no more than the truth.

“It is best that I go to someplace where I am unknown, and where my shame cannot follow me. Please, do not look for me, for this is the bosom of your enemies. Know that I will do my best to earn a blameless life in hopes of redemption in the eyes of the All Powerful. Your dutiful niece, Evelina.” It was a little harder to communicate that she was in
the Blue King’s territory at the orders of Keating, but her uncle was good at codes.

She had pilfered an envelope from Keating’s desk. Folding the letter into it, she addressed the note to Baker Street. She’d take it to a post office—someplace busy where no one would remember her—and have the clerk post it several days after she was due to return home. If she was home, she could intercept it. If she wasn’t, her uncle would know something was amiss. Evelina tucked the note into her pocket, feeling exhausted already. The practical side of this adventure was one thing, but the emotional load of it was more than she’d expected.

And then she pushed the notebook back into her bag. When she did, she felt something cold, metallic, and very much alive. Alarm jolted her as she pulled Bird from the bottom of her bag. “I thought I left you with Imogen!” In fact, she had left Mouse and Bird on her friend’s dressing table. They must have crept back to Evelina’s room and then into her bag when she wasn’t looking. “I need you to stay with Imogen. She needs all the comfort you can give her, and I can’t take you with me.”

Bird crawled up her arm, sharp nails digging into the fabric of her sleeve.
Why not?

“I’m going on an adventure.”

Mouse squirmed out of the bag and hopped, landing on the worn fabric of the seat.
Why can’t we go with you?