Holy Christ.“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Rhys blurted.
“You not ask.” Ming shrugged. “You say,Is Plum Forest a place in London? You not say,Do you know woman named Mei-Lin?”
Rhys inhaled for patience. “Well, I’m asking you now. Do you know this Mei-Lin?”
Ming shook his head.
“There must be a reason your uncle wanted you to find this woman, Ransom,” Tessa said. “She must have some significance. Are you certain you’ve never met her, even in passing?”
“My mama was the only Chinese woman I knew. Her name wasYu-Yan,” he said, his tongue tripping over the foreign syllables.
“You don’t know any other Chinese females?” Tessa pressed.
The memory struck. “The only other one was my mother’s servant who accompanied her from China.” He tried to summon the faded details of the past: a round-cheeked girl, twinkling brown eyes, jet-black hair worn in twin coils above her ears. “I knew her when I was a child. I’m not sure what her actual Chinese name was, but I called herShow Me.That’s what it sounded like when my mother said her name.”
“Do you meanXiao Mei?” Ming asked alertly.
At the echo from his past, the hairs tingled on Rhys’s nape. “Yes. That sounds right.”
“Xiao Meimeans Little Plum. What mistress might call servant girl.”
At Rhys’s blank look, Ming added, “Short form forMei-Lin.”
“Bloody hell,” Rhys said hoarsely.
“Apparently your uncle wants you to find your mother’s servant.” Tessa paced in front of her desk. “Any idea where she might live?”
“I heard the servants gossiping once,” he said with growing excitement. “After my mother’s death, Mei-Lin didn’t want to return to China and instead went to London.By Jove.” He balled his hands into fists. “I’m going to find her.”
The hunt is on.
“I will ask. Not many Chinese women in London,” Ming said.
“We’ll put the word out as well,” Kent said. “We have contacts throughout the city—we’ll find her soon.”
“I am in your debt. I must also ask that everything be carried out with discretion—”
“Sweeney won’t know that we’re onto him,” Tessa said.
Emotion swelled in Rhys; he covered it with a deep bow. “If ever I am in the position to return this favor—”
“You will be returning it. To the tune oftwentypercent,” Tessa said sweetly.
“You agreed to fifteen,” Kent said under his breath.
“The extra five is for the extra trouble,” she returned.
“You have a deal.” Rhys would gladly pay any price to have Glory—and Maggie—back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I wish to tell Maggie the new plans.”
“Bring her here when you’re done,” Tessa said. “We have much to discuss.”
“Such as?”
Her green eyes had a distinctly bloodthirsty gleam. “Such as what we’re going to do to that blackguard Sweeney once Glory is safely returned.”
Rhys’s journey to Mivart’s was fraught with anticipation. He’d made a muck of things with his impulsive decision to wed Miss Sharpe. He’d caused Maggie undue pain—and at the worst possible moment, when her world had been crumbling from the loss of Glory.
He deserved to be horsewhipped. He could only hope that Maggie would forgive his stupidity the way she’d forgiven so many of his shortcomings. He prayed that his love—and the new lead he’d found—would be enough to earn her trust again.
