“Jolly good!” Approval shone in Glory’s hazel gaze.
“The Society generates a handsome profit, but no woman is turned away because of financial hardship. I ask my clients to pay what they can afford,” Charlie said. “For instance, I assisted a dowager duchess by uncovering her nephew’s plot to lock her in an asylum and steal her wealth. She expressed her gratitude through a donation that covers the costs for women like Marie Jardine.
“The demand has become such that it exceeds what I am able to do alone. I have agents—genteel spinsters, widows, and working-class women—who assist me, but I realized that I have another goal: to pass on my knowledge and legacy to a new generation of young ladies.”
“Like a finishing school for female investigators,” Livy breathed.
“Exactly. I want to teach exceptional young women to become the best that they can be, mentally and physically.” Charlie leaned forward. “Society uses the label of the ‘weaker sex’ to keep us from recognizing our true strength. I was once like you: a sheltered miss who was taught from birth how to be a lady. My worth was measured by my ability to make a good match. When it came to courtship, my looks and fortune were seen as my main merits. My spirit was deemed an inconvenience, my intelligence an even bigger flaw.”
“But you did make a good match.” Fiona tipped her head, her red curls swinging to one side. “You married the Marquess of Fayne.”
“Which is how I learned that entrusting one’s happiness to anyone but oneself is a mistake.” Charlie’s words were matter-of-fact. “Learn from me: independence, not love, is the key to happiness. Never give up who you are. For anyone or anything. And that is my ultimate goal for my Angels: to give them the ability to choose their own destiny.”
For Livy, the words resonated like a church bell. After all, she had invested her dreams in another, and what did she have to show for it? Nothing but tears and a broken heart. Perhaps Charlie was right. Perhaps true fulfillment came from self-reliance and the power to determine one’s future.
“Where do we sign up?” Glory asked.
“There is one more thing. An inviolable condition,” Charlie said. “If you decide to become an Angel, you must take a vow of secrecy. You are to tell no one about the group—not your family, your friends, or even lovers—without my express permission. This is to protect the safety of all involved in my organization. Do you want time to consider my proposition?”
Livy looked at her friends and saw her answer in their eager faces.
“We do not need more time. We accept.” She drew a breath. “There is, however, a problem.”
“Problems are merely solutions waiting to happen.” Charlie took a sip of tea. “Go on.”
“My parents are taking me back to Scotland in a fortnight, and I will not be back in Town for several months,” Livy said glumly. “If you wish to start training us immediately, Fiona and Glory will be available, but I will not.”
“We don’t want to start without you,” Glory protested.
“We’ll wait for you,” Fi said simultaneously.
Gratitude filled Livy. She had thebestof friends…and she would not hold them back.
“You mustn’t refuse the opportunity on my account,” she said firmly. “Perhaps I can join when I get back from Scotland—”
“Would you like to stay in London and train to be an Angel?” Charlie asked.
Livy’s nod was fervent. “More than anything.”
Charlie smiled. “Then, my dear, leave it to me.”
12
The moon’s silvery glow limned the outline of the figure lying face-down in the alley behind the butcher shop. A chill snaked through Ben as he saw the unmistakable reddish gleam of hair. He’d hoped against hope that the urgent summons Chen had received had been a mistake.
“Found ’im when I was tossing out the rubbish, Master Chen.” The somber tones came from the butcher, a man with a stained apron tied over his bulging midsection. “Thought you’d want to know. Poor sod were one o’ your students, weren’t ’e?”
“He was,” Chen said quietly. “Thank you, sir. I will take care of things from here.”
The butcher nodded, making the sign of the cross before heading back into his shop.
Crouching next to the body, Ben inhaled before rolling it over. Pete stared up into the heavens, his gaze a still pond that reflected the white crescent moon. Twin rivulets of blood were crusted beneath his nostrils and over his lips.
Ben’s eyes grew hot and gritty. He didn’t know why he was so affected. He hadn’t known Pete long and yet…
He was just a lad. It’s such a damned waste. If only I’d convinced him to leave the streets…
Kneeling on the other side, Chen closed the boy’s eyes.
