Their quarries were nowhere to be seen. When they did come, Gabe suspected they would not wish to be observed by so many patrons, intoxicated or not, and would likely leave.
Mary, apparently coming to the same conclusions as he, hiccoughed and spun around, tripping on her twisted ankles and splaying herself upon the filthy tavern floor.
Hiding his instant worry for her welfare, Gabe laughed loudly, pointing at her sprawled upon the floor, Colin joining in after feigning a wretch.
“Oi!” a tavern wench called. “Take it ouside!”
Gabe wiped his nose noisily across his sleeve. “Aint noffin good in ‘ere n’eyway.”
He helped Mary stumble to her feet and lifted her arm over his shoulder, ineptly helping her back through the doors. They staggered down the walk until they were out of view of the tavern’s doors and, releasing Mary, then darted into the narrow alleyway. The stink there was not much improved from inside the tavern, though the most prominent scents were piss and garbage. And likely not all of it was old.
Mary groaned, rubbing her shoulder.
“God’s teeth, Mary! I cannae believe I forgot! How are ye?”
She waved him off. “Well enough for now, Gabriel. Focus on our assignment, if you will.”
His lips thinned in displeasure, but he remained silent. As much as he wished to disrobe her to inspect her wounds, he knew they did not have the time, and this was most certainly not the place. But there was one thing that he must say.
“Mary,” he whispered. “I was wrong about yer needing protection. Y’are a strong woman, capable of taking care of yerself, and I was beastly towards ye.”
She blinked. “Thank you, Gabe. But really—”
“I ken ye donnae need me te be with ye fer protection, but I’d like te be with ye as a partner.”
Colin cursed under his breath.
Mary pressed a quick buss to his lips, then pushed him against the cool brick wall next to Colin. “Thank you,” she hissed, leaning against the wall beside Gabe and peering around the corner.
She signalled to Gabe and he discretely stuck his head around the corner above hers. Nearly thirty paces away walked a group of five—no…six—men and one woman. He could not yet see all of their faces, but he supposed the woman must be Lady Kerr.
Mary gasped and Gabe glanced down at her. She signalled him with her shocked grey eyes and mouthed the word“Frederick.”
Impossible. He turned to look back at the advancing group and his heart stopped in his chest. There strode Frederick Ashley, Baron Winning, Gabe’s own cousin, among a group of known traitors.
What the devil was he doing with them? Fred was a right bastard, and had been since they were still in the schoolroom, but a traitor? No. Could he have been coerced into joining? Did he even know what this meeting was about, or did he simply believe others in high society were finally accepting him?
Damn ye, Frederick, ye fool!
If the blighter found himself killed, Gabe would be named Baron, for the man had never sired any heirs. And that was the last thing Gabe wanted, to be known. It would ruin his life in the Secret Service…and he would lose his last living family member.
Gabe could not rescue his cousin without both compromising his, Colin’s, and Mary’s identities—and with it, exposing their ties to the Winning Barony—and endangering all of their lives.
They watched the group disappear into the Crowned Pig’s Grunt.
“Report,” Colin whispered.
Mary left the building’s corner to go to Colin, on Gabe’s other side. Gabe watched the tavern’s door while Mary gave Colin a brief synopsis in hushed tones.
If they followed them into the tavern it could pose multiple problems: one, they would not find a suitable place to sit in order to overhear them over the din, and two, if their quarry left because of the lack of privacy, it would be suspicious for them to follow right after them.
They would have to remain where they were.
The sounds of boats upon the River Thames, and the muffled roar of activity from the tavern filled the air. The moonlight dimly stretched through the thick, coal- and fog-filled London air, dancing along the surface of the water. Gabe gazed at the dock across the street and the water beyond it. A frigate hung low in the water, likely full of goods to be unloaded or supplies in preparation for a long journey. Beyond it were others, mere shadows along the Thames.
Which one of these ships would be the one to bring the forged documents to France? And which one had “Anthony Spencer” booked passage on?
The door to the Crowned Pig’s Grunt opened, the light from within shining along the damaged cobblestoned street, and the group of traitors emerged. Gabe could not help but notice that Lord Boxton was not among them, but he saw Lord Reddington, the Marquess of Hale, Mr. Piper, Frederick, and two men that Gabe did not know.
