Her heart thumping, she hurried along until she found Smith & Co., the back entrance guarded by a gate.
She lifted her hand to open the latch…and an arm closed like a steel band around her waist. Fear sliced through her. She opened her mouth, but a gloved hand muffled her scream.
37
“Maggie mine, it’s me.”Rhys’s deep voice entered her ear.
Rhys…it’s Rhys.
Even as her mind recognized the fact, her body remained rigid with fright. He removed his hand from her mouth but continued to hold her against him as the tremors faded.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” she finally managed.
“I was looking for you.”
She could see the stark lines of worry on his face. One moment…she could see his face. Where was the light coming from?
She peered beyond him. Ming stood there, holding a lamp.
“Hello, Ming,” she called softly.
He bowed.
Her gaze returned to Rhys. “How did you find me?”
“You’re not exactly inconspicuous, sweetheart. A beautiful woman wandering around Limehouse on her own. Asking questions, knocking out hooligans with a pan.” His mouth twitched as he tenderly brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “I met your friend, Mr. Jiang. He told me where you were headed. I have a team of people searching for Mei-Lin…but, as usual, you’re one step ahead of everyone.”
Questions filled her head.What team of people? How does he know about Mei-Lin?
She pushed away from him, blurting out the foremost question. “Are you married?”
“No, love. I gave up on that plan.” His eyes held hers. “Right or wrong, I realized I couldn’t marry anyone but the woman I love.”
Heat pushed behind her eyes. “Do you mean…me?”
He blinked. Then, on a groaning laugh, he pulled her close. “Yes, Maggie mine. I love you. Only you and forever you.”
Joy unfurled in her, bright petals pushing through the darkness.
Yet darkness pushed back.
She whispered, “But the dowry…”
“Damn the dowry—we’re going to find the jewels. For Glory. For us.” Fierce conviction shone in his eyes. “We’re going to get our daughter back from that bastard Sweeney, and then the three of us are going to be a family. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, darling. Always.” Hearing the crack in her voice, she pulled herself together. There wasn’t time to fall apart. “We need to speak with Mrs. Smith—”
The gate swung open.
A mountain of a man appeared. He held a wooden club, slapping it into his beefy palm.
“Who wants to talk to my wife?” he boomed.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Rhys said.
“I was expecting you, Your Grace. Mr. Horatio said you would come.” Madeline Smith, the former Mei-Lin, spoke in accented but clear English.
Smiling, she poured tea into Chinese-style cups with no handles and passed them out to him, Maggie, Ming, and her husband. They were sitting around a circular table in the small flat, biscuits laid out in the middle.
