True to Mrs. Caradec’s word, a girl waited next to the carriage in the alley. Like Penelope, she wore a cloak with a deep hood. Even in the dim light and past the hood, Penelope saw the flash of a grin when Lord Whiddon held out a hand to assist her into the carriage.
“What is your name?” she asked as she settled into her seat and watched the girl bounce a little on the well-cushioned bench.
“I’m Ruby, ma’am. I’m one of Flightly’s girls, so you can count on me.”
Penelope had heard from Hope about Mrs. Caradec’s unusual names—and her even more unusual history. “In that case, I have no doubts at all.”
“If you are one of Mrs. Caradec’s urchins, then I’ll wager you possess an interesting set of skills,” Whiddon remarked as the carriage set off.
“It’s true, sir. I can slip in and out of almost anywhere, with no one the wiser,” the girl declared with pride. “I see things, too. Send me into a room for a few moments and I can tell you two dozen things about it, even hours later.”
“Mrs. Caradec must value your aid highly,” Penelope told her.
“She speaks well of you, too, ma’am. That were a good notion tonight, the decoy carriage. But that man that watches you, he was prepared tonight. He had several men with him. One of them is likely tailing us now.”
Penelope sighed.
“Don’t worry, though. The driver knows to take an unreliable route. Wapping is a warren. We can probably lose them,” Ruby said cheerfully.
“Someone is still following you?” Whiddon asked. He leaned and peered out of the window. “Do Tensford and Sterne know what we are up to?” He sat back. “I suppose I should have asked that question earlier.”
“They should know by now. I left Hope a note. And in any case, Mrs. Caradec will explain when she sees them at the masquerade ball.”
They settled in for the ride then, each of them occupied in their own thoughts. Penelope watched the wide, lit streets of Mayfair fade away. Her anxiety grew as they traveled east. It was not assuaged when they turned into the narrow, dark streets of Wapping. They were not empty streets. Shadows moved and shouts and laughter rang out. They rattled through a maze of twists and turns before pulling up at least several carriage lengths away from the tavern.
“Hold your skirts high, here, Miss. It’s filthy,” Ruby declared. “Although to be truthful, it ain’t much better inside the Pelican.”
“No matter.” Penelope climbed down with resolution. “Let’s go find my cousin.”
They pushed past a group of dockworkers lollygagging outside the place. She stopped just inside, to allow her eyes to adjust and to ascertain the lay of the land.
It was close and warm and loud inside. Several card games appeared to be in play. A group of sailors sang lustily in the back, at the edge of a long, wooden bar. Nearly all of the seats were filled—and yes—there was James, at a table, halfway down the room.
She nudged Whiddon and pointed with her chin. James did not resemble the usual sleek, suave picture he gave to the world. His hair was wildly disheveled, and his coat was too large. He was bent over a pint, pounding a finger onto the table next to it. He was talking, but the two large gentlemen at his table—one on either side—appeared to be past listening. They were drinking their own pints and watching the other occupants of the taproom.
Still, it was James who stopped and looked up, as if the brush of her disgusted gaze had been physical. He looked about the room. When he met her gaze, he flushed red with shame and dismay. With a sudden movement she would have thought beyond him, he stood and pushed the table away. Edging past the large man on his left, he bolted for the back of the room.
“Damn the cowardly sod!” Whiddon pointed a finger at her. “Stay together and stay here!” He dashed off after James.
Penelope exchanged a glance with Ruby and sighed. “Stay back a little, just in case,” she murmured.
She approached the table, where the two men were restoring order. “You are the Curtis brothers, I presume?”
They exchanged alarmed glances. The man on the left, the one with a fresh scar across his temple, glanced about, then narrowed his gaze at her.
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t come here with only one man, sir. Don’t consider doing anything stupid.”
“Whoareyou?” the other brother asked.
“I’m surprised you don’t know me. I know you. I know you stole Tensford’s fossil and transported it here to London. I’m assuming it was my feckless cousin who hired you to do it.”
“Cousin? You’re the one? The woman who had him locked out?” The scarred brother laughed. “And you, such a little bit of a thing!”
“Yes. I am the one. The cousin. The girl. The one from Gloucestershire, like you. The one with the money.” She raised a brow. “Has my cousin paid you for doing the job?”
“Would we still be here, had he done?”
The scarred one shushed his brother.
