Marianne exhaled. She'd secured Percy's safety. Now onto Rosie.
"I am not yet finished, Mr. Black," she said in dulcet tones.
His eyes thinned at her. "What do you want, then?"
"You said you never forget a wrong. Can I assume that you also never forget a favor?"
Black looked at her a minute. Then he let out a guffaw. "Nice try, my lady. No doubt you're a clever one. But I don't owe you nothin'."
She forced a smile. "But I came all the way to deliver those letters."
"For your own benefit as much as mine. A man doesn't get to the top by bein' a fool. Gavin Hunt set you up to this—'e wants me to 'elp defeat our common enemy so 'e can get 'is little chit back."
Marianne swallowed. "You know about Percy?"
"I know about everything that 'appens in the rookery," Black said flatly. "So don't go tryin' to pull the wool over my eyes, my lady."
So much for appealing to his self-interest. Onto the second line of attack. Now what is his Achilles' heel?
She rose and curtsied again. "You are not only powerful, but intelligent, Mr. Black. I should never presume to deceive you in any way."
He snorted, but she could tell her flattery pleased him. "Best that you don't."
"And it is precisely because you are so wise and influential that I wish to ask a boon of you," she said, keeping her eyes wide and guileless.
"Spit it out, then."
She drew another breath. "It concerns Kitty Barnes." Seeing the bushy brows lower again, she plunged on. "I understand that Mrs. Barnes owes you a vast debt and that she fled Town because of it. I would like to request that you allow her to return so that I may speak with her."
"What do you want with that blowsy bunter, eh?"
"'Tis a private matter."
"Private my arse. You're askin' me a favor, my lady—an' a big one at that." Black pointed the sparkling knob of his walking stick first at her, then at the door. "You'll tell me the nature o' your business, or you can take your leave."
He had her cornered; there was no place to run. Her only escape would be through the truth.
Through a constricted throat, she said, "Seven years ago, my husband stole my bastard daughter from me and sold her to Mrs. Barnes. Ever since his death, I've been searching for my little girl. Kitty Barnes was the last person seen with her."
Black's eyes widened. "Blimey. Your lord was a sick bastard, weren't 'e?"
"Indeed." Marianne released a breath. "Will you help me?"
"Why should I? Ain't none o' my business, is it."
Her heart plummeted. "You're a father, Mr. Black. You understand what it is to love a daughter. To do anything within your power to see her safe from harm."
Something flickered in his obsidian gaze. "Anything, you say?"
Marianne's mouth went dry. The third defense. No more lines left to cross. Her gaze flitted to the riding crops, and her insides quivered. She told herself that she could endure any depravity, no matter how despicable. She had survived years of Draven's abuse; what difference would it make to barter what remained of her tattered soul?
She was a woman with nothing left to lose... and a child to regain.
"Anything," she said.
Black nodded. "Alright, then."
"Alright? Then you'll… help me?"
