The Promise (32 page)

“Do you see them, Coop?” she yelled.

“No, but ’old on. I’ll climb up ’ere and take a look.” He scrambled to the top of a pile of crates then scanned the expanse of manicured parkland.

“There!” he screamed. “By the pavilion.” He jumped down and tore across the grass with Jane and Ben in hot pursuit.

Finn lost precious time chasing the wrong man. His height was right, the color of his clothes, too, and he was putting a child into a carriage. Seeing a flash of pale blonde hair just like Pip’s, Finn had run alongside the hack, yelling and slamming his fist against the side until the startled coachman was forced to stop in traffic. The door flew open and Finn found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol held by a startled young father protecting his frightened daughter.

With a hasty apology Finn pivoted and raced back toward the tents. Blood pounded in his ears. His head swiveled right and left, but there was no sign of Pip anywhere. Just as full-blown panic exploded in his brain, he saw a man carrying a limp child in pink skirts near the pavilion. Jane and the boys from the tent were running in the same direction. Adrenaline coursed through him as he raced across the field, narrowing the distance to fifty yards, forty, thirty... He could see Pip’s arms and legs flopping. Why wasn’t she screaming or fighting him? What had he done to her?

If the man made it out of the park with Pip...
she would disappear… just like Maura.
He couldn’t let that happen. He tamped down mind-numbing fear and concentrated on catching Pip’s assailant, digging deep for every last ounce of strength he had. He forced his mind not to race ahead, not to think of the despicable reasons why a man might steal a young girl.

Suddenly Pip began to struggle. Her legs arms and legs flailed against him and he seemed to have trouble holding on to her. Suddenly he screamed in pain and dropped her. He slapped her hard and, as he bent over to pick her up again, he saw Finn running toward them. Tom turned tail and ran as if his life depended on it, which, judging from the look on Finn’s face, it probably did.

When Finn reached Pip she was sobbing, but physically unharmed except for a red mark on her cheek. Finn felt as if his heart would explode from relief. Although every instinct urged him to pursue the man, to make him pay for terrorizing a child, to beat him senseless, he couldn’t leave her alone. He dropped to his knees in the grass beside her and scooped her into his arms.

“Shhh, Pip, you’re safe now. You’re safe.” He stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth as sobs wracked her body. When Jane reached them, Pip was taking huge gulps of air and hugging Finn’s neck so tightly he could hardly breathe. Jane wrapped her arms around them both.

“He’s gone, honey. You’re safe. Shhhh.”

“Why di- di- did that man try to st- st- stea- try to take me?” Pip asked.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Finn answered, “but we’re going to find out.” He looked in the direction the man had fled and considered going after him now that Jane was there, but the bastard had disappeared into the crowd.

“I’ll find out who he is and why he did this. And when I do, he and anyone else who had a hand in this will be praying for death before I’m done with them,” Finn promised Jane as he rocked Pip back and forth.

Cooper and Ben exchanged a startled look and began to back away. Finn caught the look. His arm shot out and caught Coop by the wrist. “Do you know these two, Jane?”

She managed to smile reassuringly at Coop and Ben. “Yes. They helped me find Pip. Thank you, boys.”

Cooper gave her a wan, guilty smile. “Thank you, Miss Gray. Tweren’t nothing. We’d best be going. C’mon Ben,” he said, infusing as much nonchalance into his words as he could as he tried to wrest his arm away from Finn.

“Not so fast. I have a few questions for you.” His eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze to Ben. “I thought you hurt your leg.”

“I’m awright now, sir. Thanks fer askin’. I’d best be goin’.”

“You’re coming with us, too,” Finn said in a tone that brooked no opposition.

They struck out for Carlisle House, partly because it was closer than Mulberry Street, and partly because there would be someone to watch Pip while they interrogated the boys.

Finn carried Pip in one arm and held onto the back of Cooper’s shirt with the other, dragging him with a little more roughness than necessary throughout the short walk to Carlisle House. He knew the boys had played a part in the kidnapping. He planned to find out everything they knew before turning them over to the authorities.

The front door was jerked open by an astonished Peckham. Finn thrust Cooper into the hall and he stumbled to his knees. Jane followed with Ben, all the while, fussing at Finn to handle the boy more gently.

“Is His Grace in?” he asked as he strode past, pushing the boys ahead of him toward the library. When Peckham nodded, Finn said, “Summon him immediately, and find something to occupy Pip.”

“But I want to listen!” she wailed, loathe to miss the unfolding drama.

“Please, Pip,” Jane admonished with a gentle nudge. Pip didn’t resist when Peckham took her tiny hand in his.

The butler leaned over and whispered, “Cook made some delicious lemon scones this morning. Shall we have a tea party? You can tell us all about your new house. We miss you, Miss Pip.”  With a resigned glance over her shoulder, Pip allowed herself to be drawn out of the room.

Cooper’s eyes darted around the library, as wild and panicked as a fox cornered by hounds. He paled under Finn’s furious glare, his boney limbs tensing in anticipation of swift and painful punishment. Ben was tucked behind, his forehead pressed to Coop’s back.

Cameron strode in moments later, his shrewd eyes assessing the demeanor of each person in the room. He sent Jane a questioning glance.

Finn shoved the boys onto a settee. “Don’t move a muscle,” he ordered.

Cameron remained silent as Finn described what had happened in the park. His only reaction was a gradual tightening of his mouth and growing anger in his hard blue-gray eyes.

“What role did our young guests play in all this?” Cameron asked.

“We din’t know what ’e was going to do until it was too late!” Cooper blurted. “I warned Miss Gray as soon as I could. Din’t I?” he turned to Jane for support. She sat down and draped an arm around his shoulder and Finn made a disgusted sound.

“At ease lads, no harm will come to you,” Cameron promised. Hearing Finn’s grumbled curse, Cam added, “as long as you tell us everything we need to know.”

Both boys were clearly ashamed and guilt-stricken over their part in the attack and readily confessed to everything. They didn’t know the name of the man who hired them, but when they described his strange eyes to Jane, she knew immediately it was Tom. She had always feared he would seek revenge against her for thwarting his plans so many years ago. Now he had.

Coop and Ben looked pathetically out of place in the Duke’s library dressed in rags and bare feet. Jane’s heart went out to them. Finn, however, wanted to administer the beating he felt both lads so richly deserved. She guessed his intent and put a restraining hand on his arm when he lifted a wooden ruler from the desk.

“Look at them, they’re starving, Finn,” Jane said plaintively. “Have some compassion. They claim they didn’t know what he intended, and I believe them. They
did
warn us, don’t forget. In truth, fate intervened on our behalf when Tom chose that pair of scallywags out of the thousands he might have.”

“Tom? Your cousin?” Finn’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Clovershire was behind this… why would you think it? Did you recognize him?”

“No. I didn’t see his face, but I have no doubt he was involved. Tom hates me,” Jane said miserably. “He always has.”

Finn shook his head in confusion. “That doesn’t explain why he went after Pip. What could he possibly hope to gain? A ransom? Surely not; he’s a peer for God’s sake!”

“I have no idea what he would gain by kidnapping Pip except a ransom, unless he meant to kill us all and let his lawyers sort it out. Perhaps that’s it. If we were
all
out of the way, would he be legally entitled to my money?”

“Kill us?” Finn sputtered. “Clearly you left much out of your story, Jane.”

“Tom is capable of extreme violence. He believes my father wronged him by leaving so much to me. He once threatened me with… with terrible things,” Jane cried. “I should have anticipated that he might do something like this.”

Finn pulled her close. “None of this is your fault, Jane. Do you have any idea where we can find the bastard? He needs some things made clear to him.”

“Mr. Hamlyn said Tom has large gambling debts and he’s hiding out in the East End. Do you think he’d try something like this again now that we know about him?”

“Desperate men do desperate things, and you said yourself he might be insane. We have to find him before he tries again,” Finn said to his brother.

“We should send for Augustus,” Cameron said. “He can go places the police wouldn’t dare. If Jane’s theory is correct, we need to know if the earl has hired more lethal characters than these two boys to help him do his dirty work.”

Finn nodded grimly. “I was thinking the same thing. With his connections, it will take Augustus little time to learn everything there is to know… where Clovershire lives, to whom he owes money, and who else might be involved.”

“More importantly, your cousin needs to get a taste of the pain that awaits him if he ever attempts to hurt my family again,” Cameron added ominously.

“Augustus?” Jane tilted her head. “Lord Middlebury? Wouldn’t it be better to involve the police?”

“No,” Cameron and Finn said in unison.

Finn laughed without humor. “The newspapers have finally decided a married couple makes a boring story. You and mother have successfully deflected gossip about Pip’s parentage and our hasty wedding. Tales of a mad, murderous earl in the family would stir everything back up. No, we must handle this discreetly on our own. Once we have your cousin in hand, we’ll force him to see reason.”

Hearing Jane’s snort, he added, “Or we may press charges if we have no other option, but keep in mind that we have little evidence against him, only the testimony of two poor young boys who have no doubt picked more than a few pockets.” Finn fixed cold, hard eyes on Cooper. “You’ll have to stay here until Clovershire is found. You are both potential witnesses now and it would be to his advantage to make you both disappear. Permanently.” He leaned closer and said solemnly, “That was probably his intent all along. Instead of another tanner, you’d have felt the sharp edge of a blade instead. You realize that now, don’t you?”

Coop swallowed and nodded his head.

Finn turned to Jane. “We’re agreed? No police for the time being?’

“Handle it as you think best,” Jane agreed.

Finn kissed her. “Trust me?”

“I do.” She was deeply grateful for Finn’s and Cameron’s protection. For the first time in many years she felt as if someone was in her corner.

Finn wrote out a note, folded it, and scribbled an address on the outside. He tugged the bell pull and directed a footman to deliver it immediately.

“While you wait for Augustus, I’ll arrange a discreet guard detail for Jane and Pip. I believe it would be best for them to stay here until all this is resolved. Clovershire is too familiar with the area around your town house. It gives him an advantage,” Cameron said to Finn.

“True, but we know he’s in London. Perhaps it would be safer to sneak them out of the city to The Willows with your guard detail. Clovershire wouldn’t be able to escape notice in Middlesex.”

“Excellent idea,” Cameron said.

“Jane you must tell us your story once more… and this time leave nothing out,” Finn said while ushering Cooper and Ben toward the door. “I’ll order a meal for our young friends and ask Peckham to introduce them to a bar of soap.”

Jane spent the next hour telling Finn and Cameron the truth about the terror she had experienced at Tom’s hands when she was only sixteen. He had locked her in her room and starved her in an attempt to force her into marriage. When that hadn’t worked, he had beaten her. When he threatened rape, she escaped. It was a relief to finally share the despair of those dark days, an even greater relief to see only compassion on their faces, not the disgust she had so feared.

Finn and Cameron remained silent throughout, encouraging her when she faltered. When she finished, they rose to their feet like two magnificent avenging angels. Finn pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.

Over her head, he exchanged a fierce look with his brother.

Thomas Gray was a dead man.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Outside the White Horse, Augustus leaned indolently against a broken gaslight on River Street watching Maggie O’Malley sling drinks to a motley assortment of scofflaws and hustlers. Finn stood several feet away, his watchful eyes scanning the dark alley behind him for movement. Both had traded their finely tailored clothing and polished leather boots for coarse cotton shirts and rumpled woolen trousers. Unshaven, with their hair hidden beneath tweed caps, they blended seamlessly with their surroundings as they waited for their quarry to make an appearance.

“Dangerous does not begin to describe this place, Augustus. It was a miracle you made it out of here alive,” Finn observed, wrinkling his nose, “…and with your sense of smell intact.”

Augustus laughed. “I’ll grant you that the West End is marginally less odiferous, but in many respects surviving on the docks is not much different from surviving on Grosvenor Square. Overall, I have found the inhabitants of Mayfair to be far more bloodthirsty than this lot,” he gestured at the men piling into nearby bars. “A man can heal from a knife wound,” he said, lifting his hand to trace the jagged scar on his cheek. “The wounds inflicted by ladies of the
ton
are far more lethal.”

Finn raised his arms and pretended to play a violin, but he knew his friend’s cynicism was well earned. Augustus cared little for his own treatment, but he felt his sisters’ suffering most acutely. Although he had inherited a title and wealth, the high-sticklers considered him common because his mother had been a Covent Garden singer, something for which his father’s noble blood could not compensate. Add to that the fact that he had earned a massive fortune in trade, well, needless to say he had never been welcome at Almack’s, voucher or no.

If not for close friends like Finn and Cameron, he would have been shut out of London Society, for the only place the women of Mayfair seemed eager for his company was between their sheets.

“West End whores do dress better, I’ll give you that, but dockland doxies are no different from the ones on Bond Street, just more honest about what they want from a man… his money.”

Finn somehow managed to whistle and grimace at the same time. “So says the king of all cynics.”

“And proud of the title I am. What makes you or I any different from that man?” Augustus asked, pointing to a stevedore.

“We’ve had this conversation before, and I’ll concede that fate, luck, karma, God’s will… whatever words you wish to use… is all that separate us.”

“That, and the good fortune of having an ancestor who chose the right side in an uprising, or who was handier than most with a broadsword,” Augustus said. “Hundreds of years ago, our great-great-grandfathers were better killing machines than his. It’s that simple. Same thing is true for the royal family, by the by.”

“I should point out that such speech is treasonous, but I agree with you,” Finn said, slapping Augustus on the back. “Your jaded world view is what I have always liked best about you,” he grinned.

“That, and I’ve saved you from having your claret drawn a time or two.”

“Aye, there’s that,” Finn conceded. “Although you must concede I’ve returned the favor on several occasions.”

The White Horse sat at the end of a squalid strip of pubs and warehouses that sliced through the crumbling wharf district of Wapping. From where they stood, the cobbles slanted steeply upward, linking the river steps to a row of lurching soot-coated tenements on High Street. London’s docklands were an assault on the senses. Wheels rumbled over cobbles from dawn to dusk as overloaded drays transported goods from shore to warehouse. A great cacophony of bellowing humanity… fishmongers, longshoremen, prostitutes… all competing to be heard above the shrill cry of seagulls, the creak and slap of rigging, clanging bells and piercing whistles.

Augustus closed his eyes and found the din familiar and oddly comforting, as was the brackish scent of tidal marsh and fish barrel. These sights, sounds, and smells comprised the lullaby and landscape of his childhood. No matter how far he traveled, no matter how much money he amassed, or whom he knew in high places, the docks would always feel like home.

The dilapidated façade of the White Horse had a certain ramshackle charm with its thatched roof, mullioned bow front windows, and split shingle siding. The space above the tavern was divided into a storage area and a cramped two-room flat where he had lived until the age of thirteen. Augustus looked up and pictured himself at five looking down from one of the dirty windows into the narrow lane below. How many muggings, murders, and two-penny stand-ups had his young eyes witnessed while gazing out from that bleak hole?

The White Horse was the blackguard’s answer to Boodles, a gentleman’s club for degenerates. For a tavern that catered to rough-and-ready types, the atmosphere was absurdly sedate, but that was precisely what drew London’s career felons. If they wanted loud music, games of chance, or a good knife fight, there were plenty of bawdy houses and gin joints to fit the bill.

A smile of genuine affection flashed across his angular face as he watched Maggie effortlessly lift four large mugs of ale with each robust arm. Although Grip appeared to be wiping down the bar, Augustus knew the man’s sharp eyes were trained, as always, on his beloved wife.

“Let’s go in for a drink,” Finn suggested. “I think Maggie just noticed us.”

“No time like the present,” Augustus agreed, pushing away from the lamppost. With long, purposeful strides, he stalked across the street and opened the tavern door, pulling off his hat and ducking under the lintel in one fluid movement. Finn followed. Inside, the walls were whitewashed stucco. Rough oak beams spanned the low ceiling above black painted floorboards. A long, wood-paneled bar ran the length of one wall. Augustus shrugged off his jacket and returned the nods of several men as he passed them on his way to the bar.

“Da,” Augustus smiled broadly at the stocky, pockmarked man who had taken him and his sisters in after the death of their mother. They did not learn until many years later that she had died after a merciless beating in an alley just five blocks away. Augustus had been six, Emily three, and Fern two, when Grip and Maggie had climbed the stairs to tell them their mother “had gone to heaven.”

“Gus.” Grip’s eyes kindled with warmth as he looked up at the man he considered his son. He glanced at Finn and inclined his head slightly while thrusting out his hand. Finn clasped it firmly and smiled.

“Good to see you, Grip.” He meant it. Finn’s family had invited Augustus to stay at Carlisle House on breaks from Harrow, and later Cambridge. They had been fast friends since adolescence despite the differences in their backgrounds. As boys, the pair had often sneaked away to Wapping. To Finn, who had been raised among the very heights of aristocracy, the docks were exotic and exciting.

Grip was a few inches over five feet and barrel-chested while Augustus was a giant of a man at six and a half feet. What little of Grip’s straight blond still clung to his pate had long ago turned gray, while Augustus’ mane was thick and black, curling past his collar.

“It’s been an age since we’ve seen ye, lad.”

“Less than a month, Da, and we’d see each other every day were you not so bloody hard-headed. I’ve asked you a hundred times to shut this place down and come live with me. You don’t need more money. Christ, you don’t even spend what you already have. The girls would like to see you more often, too.”

“Can ye feature us in that world?” Grip scoffed. “Jest ’ow would all those fine ladies and gents treat Maggie? Even yer servants would look down on ’er, and ye know it. An’ wot would I do all day… lay about an’ drink tea and eat crumpets ’til I die o’ boredom, fat as a shoat?”

Augustus groaned. “Enough. We’ve been over this ground too many times. I’ll hold my peace, but one day you’ll be too feeble to stop me when I come to haul your old arse off to a cottage by the sea.”

Hearing a squeal behind him, Augustus turned around in time to catch Maggie. He lifted her up and spun her in a wide arc. “Damn my eyes if you don’t grow more beautiful every year, Ma.”

“Ye’re just sayin’ that ’cause it’s true,” Maggie laughed.

“What’s this? Tears? Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Ye know I am. Come,” she said, dragging him by the wrist. “Let’s ’ave a coze in the kitchen. Can ye ’andle the front?” she asked her husband.

“Aye. Take yer time, love,” Grip said.

Maggie turned to Finn and he dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Hello, Maggie. How’s my dear second mother?”

“Very happy that my favorite hooligans have come to visit.” She smiled and tucked one hand into Finn’s arm and the other into Augustus’ and led them into the kitchen at the rear of the building. They sat down at a thick roughhewn table and chatted about their families, what Emily and Fern were doing, and events at the White Horse. After a while Augustus approached the reason for their visit. “Ma, we need your help.”

Maggie frowned. It was not Augustus’ way to ask for anything. “Are ye in trouble, son?”

“No, but I am,” Finn interposed.

Maggie looked relieved.

“I recently married a woman named Jane Gray who has a daughter,” Finn decided to omit unnecessary details. “Yesterday a man tried to kidnap the girl in Hyde Park. Augustus and I have been on the docks and in every gambling hell in the East End today searching for him. We learned he comes here now and then.”

“Who is he?” Maggie asked.

“Tom Gray. Jane’s cousin.”

“What does he want the girl for?” she grimaced, thinking the worst.

“Our theory is he wants to do away with Jane and her daughter so he can inherit her property. He’s drowning in debt, much of it owed to very dangerous men. Things are getting perilous for him on the streets. He has to find a way to pay or flee London,” Augustus explained.

“Why would he get the money and not her husband?”

“Maybe he thinks he can challenge Finn in court and claim Jane’s inheritance should have been part of his estate. Or maybe he plans to kill Finn, too. Jane is afraid her cousin has gone mad. She may be right. Trying to kidnap a child in the middle of a crowd is more than risky — it’s the act of a lunatic. We have to catch him before he tries again. Next time he may use a gun.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Jane says his eyes are the only unusual things about him. They are two different colors. One blue. One green.”

“I
have
seen him! With Isaac Dekker.”

Augustus swore under his breath. There wasn’t a more bloodthirsty mercenary than Dekker.

“Thank God Tom tried to do the job himself. If Dekker had gone for the child, he wouldn’t have botched it. Did you hear any of their conversation?” Augustus asked.

“Nay. Dekker pops in most nights for a drink or two. Stay back here an’ I’ll let ye know when he shows. Kidnappin’ don’t sound like a game Dekker’d get involved in, though. More likely straight up murder-for-money, arm-breakin’ an’ the like,” she observed.

“My thoughts, too,” Augustus agreed.

Maggie leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Watch yerself.”

“Don’t worry, Ma. It would take more than one poncey lord to do me in.” He gave her another hug.

“Thanks Maggie,” Finn said after she kissed his cheek. “And don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen to your baby boy.”

Augustus’ rumbling laughter followed her into the bar.

AUGUSTUS LEANED BACK and propped his feet up on an overturned bucket. He and Finn sat in grim silence until Dekker slipped through the door an hour later. He fixed a cold stare on Augustus, ignoring Finn completely.

“Wot d’ye want, Gus?”

“Have a seat,” Augustus gestured at the stool next to him then turned toward Finn. “I don’t believe the two of you have met. Dekker, may I introduce Finn Wallace, brother to the Duke of Rutledge. A man tried to kidnap his daughter today. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Dekker’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the man he had been hired to kill. Had they discovered the plot? His hand hovered near his waist where the outline of his dirk was visible beneath stained homespun.

Augustus raised his hands and held them palm outward. “We don’t want any trouble. In fact, we’re here to save you some. Talk on the street is that you’ve had some business with the kidnapper. There were plenty of witnesses to that meeting. If anything happens to Lord Wallace here or his wife and daughter, you’ll hang as an accomplice,” Augustus said.

“I knew it. Chavies is always trouble,” Dekker grumbled resentfully.

“We need to know his plans,” Finn leaned forward. “And we need to know them
now
.”

“Then ask ’im,” Dekker sneered.

Finn pulled a pistol from his coat pocket, cocked it, and pointed it at Dekker’s forehead. “We’re asking you. I’d hate to make a mess of Maggie’s kitchen,” he smiled coldly. “But unless you tell us what Clovershire’s plans are and how you figure into them, you won’t leave here alive.”

Dekker laughed. “Don’t know no Clovershire, an’ ye won’t shoot.” All trace of amusement vanished from his face, however, when Finn aimed the weapon at his crotch and tapped the trigger with a restless finger.