“It might be nuffin’,” Francie said.
“Tell me,” Tessa insisted. “You know I’d never tell anyone where I heard it.”
Francie licked her lips. “There’s been talk. Rumors that your grandfather…” Her voice lowered. “That ’e ain’t as powerful as ’e once was. Some are takin’ The Gilded Pearl as proof o’ that.”
The Gilded Pearl had been a bawdy house in Covent Garden. A fortnight ago, an explosive fire had killed all those trapped inside. Tessa had witnessed her grandfather’s fury over the disaster for, like any good king, he held himself responsible for those under his protection.
Her blood chilling, she said, “That was an accident. Grandpapa said so.”
“What with John Randolph’s death, there’s been a few too many accidents in Covent Garden,” Francie said darkly. “Rumors are flyin’ that Black’s rule is nearing an end.”
Codger’s old now, weak.Barton’s last words echoed in Tessa’s head.Mark my words, a new King is coming…
She balled her hands in her lap. “Who said that?”
“Ain’t loose lips you need to worry about.” Francie slid a look at Belinda. “To make matters worse, after what Dewey O’Toole did ’ere, in your father’s establishment, and your father not retaliating… It makes your entire family look weak. And bastards like O’Toole more powerful.”
Frustration bound Tessa like a tight-laced corset. Although she didn’t agree with her father’s stance, loyalty made her stand up for him. “My father isnotafraid of a blackguard like O’Toole. I’m sure if I were to ask him why he didn’t—”
“No!” This came from Belinda, her bruises pronounced against her paling face. “Youpromisedyou wouldn’t say anything to Mr. Todd. I can’t lose this job. I got nowhere to go!”
Seeing the fear in her friend’s eyes, Tessa bottled her frustration. No matter how much she wanted to confront her father, she would never betray her promise to her friend.
She crossed over to the other, put a hand on the blonde’s trembling shoulder. “I’m a woman of my word, Belinda. I said I wouldn’t tell, and I won’t.”
“Thank you,” Belinda said tremulously.
Tessa had planned to return Belinda’s money in private, but she realized she couldn’t wait. It was imperative to demonstrate, even to friends, that her family was a force to be reckoned with. That Blacks and Todds had the power to uphold the stew’s most sanctified tenet of reciprocity.
She whistled at Swift Nick, nodding at her jacket which she’d earlier slung onto a chair. The ferret hopped over to the garment, disappearing into the folds. He emerged with the coin bag between his teeth.
“Give it to Belinda,” Tessa said.
The ferret dragged the heavy bag over, depositing it at Belinda’s feet.
“Wot’s this, then?” Belinda picked up the bag, untied it, and let out a squeak. “Gor, there’s a bleedin’fortunein ’ere!”
“It’s what O’Toole owes you,” Tessa said.
“But this is more than a ’undred quid—”
“He owes you every cent andmore,” she stated. “Consider it payment with interest.”
Belinda clutched the purse. “’Ow—’ow did you get the blunt from O’Toole?”
“Never mind that. Just know that a Black willalwayssee justice done.”
“We’ll go see a goldsmith straightaway,” Francie put in. “’E’ll turn that blunt into silver and keep it safe for you, too.”
Belinda’s throat worked. “Oh, Tessa, I don’t know how I’ll repay—”
“Your friendship is payment enough.” She went over, squeezed the other’s shoulder. “You’ve seen me through thick and thin, and I’m merely returning the favor.”
Tessa would never forget the kindness of her friends. They’d been her safe harbor during the lonely years of childhood and the stormy ones of womanhood. After yet another day of being bullied and ridiculed at Mrs. Southbridge’s, she’d arrive at the club, dejected and feeling alone.
Belinda had always had a kind word and gentle hug, Daisy an amusing rejoinder.
And Francie had been the fount of wisdom.
