“What?” Silas gaped. “The night is still young.”
“Not for me,” he headed to the alley mouth where his hired hackney waited. “I need a stiff drink and a warm bath.”
“And a woman?”
“Don’t you dare?” William glared.
CHAPTER 14
Another day was winding down at the seamstress shop, and Bridget was putting the needles and thread spools away when a familiar face popped in through the door.
“Is there a little lady named Bridget in here?” Adam teased as he stepped into the store. “And does she have any particular penchant toward a tin of lemon drops?”
“Adam!” Bridget did away with the formality of his title since no one was around. “I am so happy to see you, but you do not have to bribe me every time you come around.”
“Why not?” he grinned. “I enjoy bribing you. Maybe one day you will succumb to my charms and marry me.”
She blushed, “Adam, as much as I appreciate the offer, I am—”
“Head over heels in love with Lord Hansen,” Adam smiled unaffectedly. “I know dear, it is all over the newspapers as oflate. I do not fault you for looking high, but this business with Duke Arlington is troubling. Why does he keep appearing?”
Slumping into a curricle chair, Bridget sighed. “It’s not on purpose, Adam. Every interaction I have had with him was…. a sequence of horrible events.”
“I see,” Adam’s face twisted. “Speaking of horrible events, I made good on my promise to look for Frederick. He is gone, Bridget. The manor house is abandoned and emptied, and word on the street is that your brother fled to some rookeries to hide from his cutthroat moneylenders seeking him to pay his debts.”
Her heart punched against her ribs. Adam’s expression was stark and solemn. Pressing her hand to her chest, she swallowed over the tightness in her throat. “Is he… is he dead?”
“No! Well, not from what I have learned,” Adam’s face fell. “There are so many rumors, some say he took a ship to the Americas or the West Indies, or that he’d fled to the Highlands. But most of the ones I have heard that are credible say he is simply hiding in the rookeries and slums to avoid the moneylenders.”
“Financiers have eyes in every rookery and slum, everywhere,” she said emptily. “They will find him before we do. Do you know where he might be?”
Russet brows lifted high. “Are you thinking of… finding him yourself? Bridget, dear, goodness no. You cannot go anywherenear those tenements. The blackguards will see that you are different a mile away and they will press their advantage.”
“Then what do we do?” Bridget felt ill. “We have to find him, Adam. He might die out there. You know he came back from war with a heart condition.”
“I do,” Adam patted her hand comfortingly. “But while I will try, I do not have the manpower to search every rookery in and around London. Only some with the clout of a duke or the regent himself can do such a thing.”
Dread coiled like a snake in the pit of her stomach. “I—” She sucked in a breath. “I cannot allow him to die. As painful as it seems, I would rather see him in debtors’ prison than find him cold in a ditch somewhere.”
His expression dimmed even more. “I know it is hard. I won't give up, but we have to face the truth. We could be too late.”
And because she looked like she needed it, he gave her a hug, and since he was much taller, she wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking her head against his striped waistcoat. After a heartbeat, his arms circled her, nearly squeezing her, but her grief was more crushing.
“We will find a way, Bridget,” Adam promised, pulling away.
‘Thank you,” she breathed.
After Adam left, Bridget closed the doors and headed home in the darkening dusk. Thankfully, no lord in distress was being assaulted in alleys anymore and she arrived home without any issues—but what the baron had said plagued her mind.
Only some with the clout of a duke or the regent himself can do such a thing.
“Bridget?” Aunt Lydia chimed, opening the door. “Are you all right?”
Jarred out of her thoughts, Bridget nodded. “I am. Why?”
“I heard you enter the yard from the kitchens, but you stopped on the stoop for longer than I believed it would take you to enter,” her godmother began while stepping away. “Ooh, I know that look. You were woolgathering again. What is it about this time, dear?”
Stepping inside, she closed the door and latched it. Bridget undid her coat, hung it, then found a seat. “It is about Frederick, Aunt,” she sucked in a breath, hating that this bad news would upset her frail godmother. “Adam came by today and told me he…Frederickis nowhere to be found because his creditors are looking for him.”
