He looked over his shoulder, not seeing anyone, but he could hear footsteps close by, as well as Sharpe’s voice, one he knew better than he would have liked, ordering his men to hurry.
They rounded a corner, and Jonny pulled Ada through the door of a tavern, one that seemed to be crowded yet dark enough that they could hopefully hide from Sharpe.
“Well, well, who do we have here?”
A buxom middle-aged woman, still retaining her beauty with shining dark hair streaked with grey and a face painted rather heavily, stood before them. Jonny looked around, not recognizing this place – and he knew most in the area.
“What is this?” he asked, uncaring if he was being rude.
“This,” the woman said, holding her chin proudly high, “is my place. A place where you can escape from the world and have some time together, no matter your circumstance.”
Jonny had noted that the tavern was busy, most of the tables full, but he hadn’t taken the chance to appreciate justwho was sitting at them. It seemed that most were couples, huddled together, sitting close in the dim light.
“I don’t—” he began, but this time it was Ada urging him forward.
“Take a seat,” she whispered in his ear, and the woman lifted a brow, waiting, as a musician began playing the next song, a soft, sweet melody.
“Fine,” he said, staying close to her as the woman led them to a back corner. He would admit that it was actually the perfect table location, hidden away from the door so they couldn’t be seen, but if he sat on the right side of the booth, he could see who was coming and going.
“I’ll bring you some wine,” the woman said, not giving them a choice before she continued on her way.
Ada was looking around her in wonder. “I had no idea such a place existed.”
“Nor did I,” he muttered.
“Shocked there’s a place that even you didn’t know about?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Always something new to discover, Tate.”
He eyed her. “Speaking of discovering, tell me, Miss Jones, just how did you learn to shoot a gun with such precision that you could hit a man from over twenty yards away?”
She blinked at him, obviously not having expected that.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. And you may as well call me Ada after all of this.”
He lifted a brow incredulously. “Ada. We both know it was you who took out Blackwood. I saw the gunpowder on your hands, and you know it. The question is, does anyone else know?”
“Minnie figured it out,” she admitted, and he appreciated that she didn’t try to extend the lie. “Emmaline and Lily were there but promised to never say a word.”
“Your father taught you to shoot?”
“He didn’t teach me, but he arranged for it,” she said, not meeting his eye. “After he got in with Blackwood, I think he realized soon enough that there was a good chance he wasn’t going to make his way out, so he hired a man to teach me to take care of myself.”
Jonny nodded as she stared at him, her blue-green eyes imploring.
“Please don’t tell anyone else. If Sharpe ever found out…”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he said, before leaning in. “Can you say the same about mine?”
She sighed. “Fine, but just as long as you don’t bring any of this,” she waved her hand around, “into the lives of those who have nothing to do with it.”
“Of course not,” he said, his spine stiffening as the woman returned with wine for each of them, although neither of them made any move to touch the glasses sitting on the table.
“What was your plan with the ledger?” Ada asked. “Surely you must have realized you were going to be caught.”
“I had planned to return it,” he said, “but then Blackwood was dead and the police wanted it. I didn’t think anyone else but him would know it was gone, or that I had anything to do with it.”
