Aubrey slipped into the pub, trying to keep a low profile. His heart skipped as he saw Alfie deep in conversation with an older man on the far side of the room. He certainly looked respectable, as did the establishment they had chosen for their rendezvous. The realisation that he had completely misjudged Alfie sat uncomfortably in his stomach, but he was here now. Tugging his hat low, he kept his head down and darted to the table beside Alfie’s, which was sectioned off for privacy with a high-backed settle.
Letting out a breath of relief, Aubrey sat back, trying to listen in on their conversation. He was spying, which was a rotten thing to do, but he might as well put his suspicions to bed once and for all. Thankfully, they had chosen a quiet spot for the rendezvous. If it had been an inn populated by sailors,he would have stuck out like a sore thumb and had no chance of overhearing them.
“—Mr King has always been most careful about what gets committed to paper, and so I thought it might be best to err on the side of caution. I hope you’ll understand once I have explained.”
King? Wasn’t that the fellow who’d married the woman who owned The Mermaid? Though the townsfolk seemed to have taken him to their hearts, the fellow was supposed to have been a complete rogue. A criminal, in fact. Did that respectable old man work for him?
Alfie said something in reply that Aubrey couldn’t catch, and he shifted on the bench, trying to get in a better position. A smiling barmaid came up, and Aubrey hurriedly ordered a pint, not wanting to miss anything.
“When it comes to Silas Mourney, one cannot be too careful.”
“What the hell does he want now?” Alfie exclaimed. “Isn’t it enough that I daren’t set foot in town?”
“I’m afraid you’ve offended that man, Alfie. He had his heart set on those jewels, and now he’s found out who's got them.”
“Well, that’s none of my affair. I made a deal, what happens to them next is nothing to do with me.”
“No, except Silas means to steal them.”
“What?”
Aubrey, still reeling from the mention of baubles, was not so shocked he didn’t catch the note of fear in Alfie’s voice. The barmaid reappeared and set down his pint, and he paid her in a daze, hardly able to believe his suspicions had been well founded. He took a large swallow, hardly tasting the bitter brewas he waited for what else might be revealed about his less than innocent new friend.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“I can’t be held accountable if he gets burgled, especially not when I’m miles away. Besides, it’s likely those stupid thugs that work for Silas will mess it up like they do most things. Perhaps they’ll get him hanged this time.”
Aubrey felt there was more hope and bravado behind these words than the lad might like to admit, but as he currently wanted to choke the little wretch until he turned purple, he wasn’t feeling a great deal of sympathy. Alfie Marwick was a jewel thief. No wonder he had made his sister hand over the brooch without a murmur, he’d not wanted to draw attention to himself, the thieving little bastard.
“Maybe, but this is the thing, Alfie. Silas means to implicate you, though don’t ask me how. All I know is King has a snitch close to the man. This fellow knew you’re under King’s protection after the favour you did him and was good enough to warn me. Silas Mourney is going to steal those diamonds, and he’s going to make it look like you did it.”
“A pox upon Silas Mourney!” Alfie said savagely.
“I’m sorry, lad. I know this isn’t welcome news, but forewarned is forearmed.”
“It’s my own stupid fault. If you knew how deeply I regret having anything to do with those blasted jewels… well, never mind that. I owe you a debt, Mr Repton, and King too.Again,”he said with a sigh.
“No, no. King knows naught about this. It’s between you and me, and you owe me nothing. Perhaps you might follow thatman’s example, though, eh? You’ve made it this far. Start fresh and find an honest living. You never know, you might like it.”
Aubrey did not catch Alfie’s reply, muffled as it was by the sounds of chairs scraping upon the polished floorboards as Repton got to his feet and they said goodbye.
Alfie did not follow at first, and whilst the urge to confront him was burning in Aubrey’s blood like acid, he bided his time. It would not do to make a scene in such a respectable tavern. Outside, however, you could get your throat cut without anyone batting an eyelid.
So he waited, fists clenched, as he imagined breaking Alfred Marwick’s nose with a good deal of anticipation.
The King’s Arms, Dover, Kent, 17thJanuary 1816
Alfie slipped from the tavern with his guts in a tangle. This was bad. Very, very bad. His instincts leapt as he hurried through the busy streets with the back of his neck prickling. Someone was following him. Whether or not it was Silas Mourney hardly seemed to matter. Alfie did not like being followed and wasn’t about to make it easy for the devil, whoever he was.
He did not look round, too used to living by his wits to doubt his own instincts, instead, he ducked into a side street, ran like blazes and took the first alley he could find. One of the first rules of living on the streets was to make sure you were faster than anyone chasing you and Alfie was nimble by anyone’s standards.By the time he returned to the main street, he felt certain he’d lost whoever was following him. He’d have to abandon the pony and cart, though. He’d arrange for someone else to take it back to Little Valentine, but for now, he’d spend the night in a local tavern and hope in the morning that whoever had been tailing him had given up and gone home.
Hatherley Hall, Little Valentine, 18thJanuary 1816
“Whatever is the matter with you? You look like you’ve swallowed a frog,” Vinnie remarked when Aubrey came down to breakfast the next morning.
“Vinnie, I do not believe we need quite such illustrative descriptions at the breakfast table, I thank you,” Hawkney replied mildly as he accepted a cup of coffee from a hovering footman. Happily, Della had not yet made an appearance, small mercies, and his grandmother usually broke her fast in her room. Hawkney and Vinnie were quite enough to deal with, though.
“Well, he does,” Vinnie replied frankly. “Or at least, like he’s eaten something slimy and unpleasant. Where were you yesterday, anyway?”
