“Then I’m afraid I can provide no further assistance,” Anjeli said smoothly.
“Perhaps someone in your staff noticed where she went?” Nathaniel asked carefully. “ When we followed her out the backentrance last night, we noticed the guard chased her until she got into a hackney. He might have heard an address, a place. Something.”
Anjeli tilted her head, considering. “The guard posted at the back entrance last night did mention following a pregnant woman. He said it was odd to see a woman in her condition fleeing so quickly. I’ll summon him.”
She pushed a button on the wall behind her desk, and a footman entered. Anjeli gave the instruction to summon Mr. Gaskell, and moments later, the guard entered. He looked warily at them, and Alice felt he scrutinized Nathaniel and her, as if he was putting the pieces together and realizing they were the couple from last night who were following the pregnant woman. He was reticent at first, but after Anjeli encouraged him to speak, he did.
“She told the driver Clerkenwell. Sidney Street, ma’am. Didn’t catch anything else.”
“That’s good enough. Thank you.”
Dalton straightened, already moving toward the door. “Thank you so much for your help, Miss Anjeli. We need to leave at once. They followed him out of the office and the club, and into his waiting carriage.
“Clerkenwell again.” His brows drew together. “We may have enough information to find her. But we need to tread carefully. If she’s working with radicals, she may not welcome help.”
Alice nodded, but her chest tightened. She highly doubted the widow was a radical. She looked like a lonely woman running out of options and desperate. “We’ll find her before the Russians can.”
They had to. Because if they didn’t, the woman’s life was forfeit. And that wasn’t an outcome she could live with.
CHAPTER 9
Nathanielpeeredoutofthe window as their hired brougham rattled into Clerkenwell. The gas lamps flickered weakly here, proving no match against the encroaching darkness. Clenching his jaw, he scanned the maze of narrow streets and alleys, the tightly packed houses and crooked lanes, his senses alert for any sign of danger.
Once a village on the outskirts of London, Clerkenwell had long since been swallowed by the city’s relentless sprawl. By day it held a strange mix of characters—respectable artisans, tradesmen, and watchmakers on the wider avenues—but at night, the rougher edges emerged.
The smell of coal smoke and refuse assaulted his nose. A drunkard stumbled across the street in front of them, earning a curse from the driver and a flick of the reins. Nathaniel’s mouth set in a grim line.
“I could have come by myself. This is no place for you,” he said without looking at Alice. She sat opposite him, her face hidden in the shadows of her cloak, but he could feel the steel in her gaze.
“Further proof that you have indeed gone soft since your retirement. This isn’t even the most dangerous place we have visited.”
He raked a hand through his hair. Damn it, she wasn’t wrong. She rarely was when it came to their work. There had been a time when he wouldn’t have thought the dangerous neighborhood was too much for Alice. In fact, the danger would have thrilled them both. They’d faced down armed spies in Vienna and outwitted French agents in Paris, always side by side. Equal partners.
Now, he seemed to be going soft, as Alice suggested. Or maybe he was getting too old for this, he found the adventure of spying didn’t seem as exciting anymore. The thought of Alice in harm’s way was especially unbearable. But he knew Alice would not countenance being coddled. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“So what if I have changed? If my preferences have shifted?” He gestured around them. “This used to feel like a grand adventure, but we are not in our twenties anymore. As I’ve gotten older, I’m more aware of the dangers. The risks we take on every single mission. I feel the responsibility to protect us heavier upon my shoulders. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“So you would rather I wait meekly at home while you frighten the poor woman out of her wits?” Her voice was calm, reasonable—infuriatingly so. “If she’s alone and terrified, a man pounding on her door might send her fleeing into the night. She needs a woman’s reassurance.”
She was right, and he had absolutely no argument against that reasoning.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered.
A hint of a smile curved her lips. “A bit late to be so overprotective, don’t you think? After all, I’ve been on my own for the past five years. You have not even been aware of what dangers I’ve faced, much less been there to protect me.”
That last statement cut deep. Not only had she exposed his failure to protect her as a husband should. But how could he let her go on her own again after this mission? He’d be forever worried about her.
The thought was unbearable.
There was no more time to contemplate his dilemma, for the carriage jerked to a halt on a narrow cobbled street lined with soot-streaked terraced houses. Nathaniel climbed down first, scanning their surroundings. An old crone sat on a step, her head wrapped in a shawl, rheumy eyes following them with interest.
“A few coins might loosen her tongue,” Alice murmured and he nodded.
It worked. The woman sat on her doorstep day and night, and few things escaped her notice. A heavily pregnant woman who was newly arrived in the neighborhood was notable enough to warrant her attention. The woman spat out a house number, wiping her hand on her skirts before clutching the silver Nathaniel pressed into her palm. The house in question was farther down the street, on the opposite side from the old crone’s. It sagged slightly to one side, and its windows were dark and unwelcoming.
He rapped sharply on the door. No answer. He knocked again. From inside came the faintest scuffle, the hurried tread of feet, then a crash. Alice and he exchanged a charged glance. Instinct surged, and Nathaniel threw his weight against the door. It splintered inward.
The smell hit him first—iron and sweat, fear and blood. Alice’s boots squelched as they stepped into the narrow hallway, guns drawn against possible assailants. A dark stain spread across the boards, leading toward a back room where muffled cries broke the silence.
