She raised a hand to cover her mouth as bewilderment stampeded through her. He had kept his word. He had spoken on her behalf. He had not betrayed her confidence.
“And one more bit,” said Sir Nathaniel. She looked at him while battling to maintain composure. “Steadman insisted on a bonus for your commendable actions by offering his pay for an entire month. He was quite adamant.”
He opened a drawer in his desk and produced a small bag that clinked when he set it down and slid it to her. She shook her head.
“I cannot. I do not deserve it after my deceit.”
“In fact, you do. Who are we if we fail to honor courage, integrity, and compassion? Without those, we would be nothing more than bullies with wooden clubs. Take it, please.”
She lifted the weighty bag and slipped it into her reticule with mounting relief. The funds would allow her time to find other work without her family suffering unduly. In the silence, she struggled for what to say. “I…I cannot believe Steadman was so kind.”
Sir Hugh chuckled. “Lass, I know you are suspicious of him. But I believe he is a good man. Despite his history of misdeeds, he has always been a man of his word. He has always been exactly what he claimed to be and without hypocrisy. So, whatever he claims can be trusted beyond dispute.”
She found Sir Hugh’s words to be true, and she wanted to believe them. Steadman had spoken tenderly to her. Called her beautiful. Proclaimed her magnificent. However, she could not dismiss his desire to wreak havoc on his father without regardfor the innocent. That was also a resolute claim, and he could be trusted on it. She forced a smile to dispel the grim conclusion.
“Again, you have my deepest apologies for my charade and my sincerest gratitude for your generosity. You may have saved a family today.”
“Nonsense,” said Sir Nathaniel. “You earned it. And I wonder…”
“Yes?”
“From time to time, we have need of a female presence during certain investigations. I wonder if you would consider fulfilling such a role as the need arises.”
The unforeseen offer took her aback. She stared in surprise before nodding. “I will consider it and contact you with an answer. Thank you, sir. For everything.”
As she stood to leave, both men stood with her. She curtsied to the pair of knights and turned for the door.
“Miss Brady.”
She stopped in response to Sir Hugh. He gave her a smart salute. “Quick notice and sudden pursuit.”
Tears pricked her eyes at his intoning of the Bow Street motto, reserved for officers of the force. “Quick notice and sudden pursuit, sir.”
She turned to leave, both diminished and exalted by the brief visit, and profoundly concerned over what would come next.
***
Steadman lounged against a moldering building on Old Pye Street while waiting for a particular door to open. His great coat was closed to protect his suit from the pattering rain, and his John Bull hat was pulled unfashionably forward over his eyes tocast his face in shadow. His thoughts drifted to Morgan, as they had continuously since he found her gone from Broad Chalke. Upon arriving back in London, he had made a beeline straight to Bow Street, only to learn of Morgan’s resignation a day earlier. Worse, they had no record of where she lived, a situation that had embarrassed Sir Hugh when he’d realized it. Steadman knew, though, that her residence was somewhere in the slums of the Almonry near Westminster Abbey. The man to help him narrow down the search was known to frequent the business that was the object of Steadman’s observation. He glanced at the leaden sky, wondering how long he might need to wait. As if in answer, the door opened, and his quarry stepped through. Steadman moved resolutely to intercept the man and seized him by the collar.
“Phineas Fry,” he growled. “Just the wastrel I seek.”
The lithe little man yanked his eyes up at Steadman with alarm. “Sir Steadman!”
“The same.”
Fry pulled briefly against Steadman’s iron grip in an attempt to escape, his eyes darting about for an exit path, a helping hand, or a miracle from God. When those efforts proved fruitless, he deflated in Steadman’s hold, bowed his head, and lifted his wrists for irons. “No need for violence. I will go quietly. I figured it was only a matter of time before you came for me, what with your new position at Bow Street.”
Steadman peered down at the man, amused. “I’ve no intention of arresting you. Not today, anyway.”
Fry lifted his head, his features crowning with hope. “No?”
“You are far too useful to be locked away.” Steadman’s claim was true. If anything happened in the Almonry, theRookery, the Mint, or any other London slum, Fry knew about it. Locals called himThe Accountantfor his penchant for recording copious notes about comings, goings, doings, and dealings. “In fact, henceforth the Bow Street magistrate will require your ears and eyes on the meaner streets of London. In exchange for information, the magistrate will allow for your continued freedom, so long as you do not engage in criminal activities affecting women, children, and the poor.”
Fry gulped. “I suppose I can do that.”
“Excellent.” Steadman released the man’s collar. “Otherwise, I will carry your unconscious and badly beaten body to Newgate Prison over my left shoulder and acquaint you with the warden.”
Fry’s face turned green. “Er, of course. So, how will this agreement work?”
