Julius settled in to wait. Several patrons entered the coffeehouse. One portly man exited, a wrapped meat pie in each hand. But Allan remained within.
It began to rain. Huddling between his horse and the wall of the building next to him, Julius tugged the collar of his coat upward and turtled his head down. A little bit of damp didn’t bother him. He could outwait anyone.
Although the man must surely be in his third cup of coffee by now. Or had decided to stop for a meal. The delay gave Sutton time to arrive, his own horse stamping and pawing the ground, mist billowing from its nostrils.
The large man dropped to the ground, mud splashing from under his boots. “What have we here? The boy you sent was noticeably short on details.”
Julius dipped his head. “Max. Did you send a note to Summerset and Dunkeld?” His gaze never left the front door of the coffeehouse.
Sutton grunted. “They’re both in Scotland. The Dowager Marchioness has found another potential bride for Dunkeld, and Summerset agreed to help rid him of the female.”
“So, neither is available to help.” Julius had other men he could turn to. Men who worked for the right amount of blunt. But none that he trusted as he did his friends. With Marcus still away on the continent, and John and Sinclair off doing God knew what to some poor, unsuspecting chit in the north, all that remained were Max and himself.
Not enough pairs of eyes to keep watch on the suspect as Julius had hoped.
Max shifted, mud squelching beneath his feet. “Do you need someone removed from the coffeehouse? I could start a distraction—”
“No fires.” Christ. And Julius’s friends thought he was the one with issues. Sutton’s obsession with fire had gotten the man into trouble more than once. Julius didn’t need even more attention drawn to this investigation.
“Fine.” Max shrugged. “I’m always happy to drag someone out by their ankles if that’s what you wish.”
“We’re here to observe. See where my suspect leads us.” Julius gave Sutton a description of Allan. “Can you go inside the coffeehouse, see if he’s meeting with anyone? Maybe get me a meat pie while you’re at it?”
Max handed him the reins to his horse and looked both ways down the street before crossing.
“And be discreet about it,” Julius said to his back.
Max tossed a rude hand gesture over his shoulder, and Julius smiled. Thank God at least one of his friends was still in town.
The grey sky had darkened to purple before Sutton emerged. He trotted across the street and pulled two small apples from the pockets of his great coat. He gave one to each horse. “Your man is sitting alone. Eating enough to feed a family of four for a week.” He rubbed the nose of his horse. “I don’t know how he stays such skin and bones.”
Julius’s stomach rumbled. It had been a long time since he’d grabbed a roll from Marcus’s kitchen for his breakfast. “Back exits?” he asked.
Sutton shook his head.
Small crumbs dusted Max’s bushy black beard, and Julius narrowed his eyes. “Did you remember my meat pie?”
“They looked truly disgusting in there. I did you a favor.” Max licked at the corner of his mouth.
“Greedy bastard,” Julius grumbled.
They waited another twenty minutes, watching the customers come and go, before Allan skittered out. Julius mounted. “Here we go.”
Sutton heaved himself onto his horse, and the men turned their mounts’ noses down the street, following the attorney at a sedate pace. The man obviously thought he had lost Julius. The rain began to come down harder, and Allan bought a paper to hold over his head. He scurried along the sidewalk.
Sutton squeezed the tail end of his cravat, wringing out water. “I love the jobs you have us do, Rothchild. It’s never in a pub in front of a roaring fire with you.”
“You got to amuse yourself at The Black Rose before the unpleasantness with Madame Sable. That’s cozy enough.”
Sutton grunted.
“Is your friend installed there as manager?” Julius asked. “Is the club still operating?”
“For now.”
Julius glanced at Max from the corner of his eye. “Problem?”
The big man heaved a sigh. “Let’s just say Mrs. Bonner was none too happy when she discovered the nature of the business I asked her to run. But she’s pragmatic. She’ll get past her qualms.” He tucked his chin, and rain rolled from the brim of his hat onto his chest.
