Wei’s blood chilled at the woman’s knowledge. Is she issuing a subtle threat? To expose my relationship with Glory?
“We had a bargain,” he said through gritted teeth. “You promised discretion.”
Mrs. Swann waved a hand. “Your secrets are safe with me, sir. You and Miss Cavendish gave a delightful and genuine performance, which is why I am taking you to Leonard Kray.”
While Wei didn’t trust her, he was relieved that she made no attempt at extortion.
“What is your relationship to Kray?” he asked.
“I promised to help you find him.” Mrs. Swann’s gaze was hard. “Not to discuss my past.”
“Then why do you say that Kray is not a threat now? Fifteen years ago, the bastard murdered my family, and I fought him—I know how lethal he can be. Does he know that I am coming for him?” Wei narrowed his gaze. “Am I walking into a trap? Are you his partner in some nefarious plan?”
Emotion flared in Mrs. Swann’s gaze.
Rage.
Wei recognized it well.
An instant later, she snuffed it out.
“Kray is no friend of mine,” she said coolly. “As for the rest, you will have your answers soon enough.”
“It’s been a while since you visited your uncle, Miss Smith.” The male attendant dressed in a white uniform, who’d introduced himself as Bremerton, glanced at Wei. “And you’ve brought a friend, I see.”
“Mr. Wong, here, knew my uncle in the past,” Mrs. Swann said smoothly. “He wanted to pay his respects.”
“That’s good of you, sir. Mr. Smith doesn’t get many visitors, and I’m sure your presence will lift his spirits.”
Wei returned Bremerton’s friendly smile with a neutral nod. Inside, he was reeling—had been since he’d arrived at the gated asylum located in a barren field outside of Camden Town.
What in blazes is going on?
As the attendant led him and Mrs. Swann down a corridor that smelled of urine and old shoes, bloodcurdling screams erupted from one of the locked chambers along the way.
“How is Uncle Walter faring today?” Mrs. Swann asked.
“Same as always, I’m afraid. Poor bloke.” Bremerton took out a ring of keys, pausing in front of a scarred wooden door. “Madness affects folks in different ways, and in your uncle’s case, it’s made him angry. Angry and confused. The physician believes Mr. Smith is subject to disturbing delusions…but of course it’s difficult to know since your uncle has such difficulty speaking.”
“Poor Uncle Walter. I hope my presence today won’t upset him the way it has in the past.”
Was it Wei’s imagination, or was there a trace of malice in Mrs. Swann’s smile?
If there was, the amiable Bremerton missed it. “I hope you don’t take it personally, miss. Your uncle isn’t in his right mind and doesn’t realize how fortunate he is to have you looking after him. Because you gave advance notice of your visit, I was able to make some preparations. For your safety and that of Mr. Smith, of course.”
“How kind of you,” Mrs. Swann murmured.
Nodding, Bremerton took a breath as if to brace himself and slid a key into the lock. “Let’s see the patient then, shall we?”
His chest tight with anticipation, Wei followed the others in.
The chamber was dark and resembled a cell with a tiny, barred window framing a bleak patch of sky. There was a small cot with a single pillow. In a corner, a man sat in a chair with a high back and wheels. From his profile, he looked disheveled and frail.
“Hello, Mr. Smith,” Bremerton said with exaggerated cheer. “Your visitors have come like I said they would.”
The man turned his head slowly in their direction.
At the sight of the pale eyes that had stalked his nightmares, Wei’s heart raged with stunned recognition.
