“Everything I need,” Ben said around a mouthful of potato, and Clayton echoed the sentiment.
When she had moved on, Clayton leaned forward. “I’ve put someone on Rowlands, hoping to catch him when he goes after the second man who wanted out. I’d almost feel sorry for the old gallows bird, but he wears the same feathers as Rowland.”
“So you hope to catch him in the act?” Ben liked the idea, possibly eliminating the need for Miss Felton to testify. One murder would send the man to the gallows as easily as two.
“My main concern as we approach this is to keep my anonymity. I don’t want to jeopardize my placement within The Vicar’s gang.” Clayton dug into his stew, emitting an appreciative groan. “I need to find a cook when we move to a bigger home. Genie’s too busy to keep up a household, and we’ll be losing her Aunt Lydia. That woman can make a pudding better than?—”
“Don’t say it!” Ben raised a hand. “Maggie’ll find out somehow, and you will pay dearly.”
Clayton snorted. “You’re right. But it’s true.”
“I’m surprised Rowlands hasn’t already taken the other man out.”
“Like I said, he’s a coxcomb to be sure, but he’s also a fox. He told us last night he had no idea what happened to the man, but he wished him well. Then laughed.” Clayton waved his empty bumper in the air and smiled, presumably catching Sally’s eye. “I need to be careful not to arouse his suspicions. Rowland’s got skill at spreading flim flam and luring natty lads into the fold. He’s brought in four new recruits in the last couple of weeks.”
“I’m sure it takes a certain degree of finesse to do that. He’s offering them a job they can never walk away from.” How many wayward lads had fallen in with the wrong people? It was an age-old tale.
“The typical ruse. Street urchins are used to being on the wrong side of the law, so they snatch up the generous wage for something they’d be doing anyway. Once they’re comfortable, they’re asked to do something a little more dangerous—and more pay.”
“Locked in before they know it’s happened.”
“Exactly. I imagine Rowlands himself learned the trick the hard way.”
“Are you concerned for your safety?” Ben worried about his brothers, putting themselves in danger for most cases, though he knew how much they loved their work. And they were deuced good at it. Ben appreciated the information he learned as a Runner, knowing what was needed for a case before it could be presented at court and how much work it took to attain that information.
He didn’t enjoy the violence. He would fight, if needed, and rather enjoyed a good boxing match. His marksmanship was excellent, and he would shoot another man to preserve his life or someone else’s, but he much preferred assisting through his practice.
“I’m always concerned about safety—mine and any innocent victims—but it’s part of the job.” He paused while Sally refilled their bumpers. “I’m thankful Genie has never asked me to quit. She understands how important the cases are to me.”
“You’ve found a good woman. I’m glad you didn’t make a bumblebath of the whole relationship and let Harry talk some sense into you.” Ben remembered how Clayton had almost lost Genie. She made him a better man.
Is that what I want? To be a better man? Then he was about to court the right woman because he was certain Miss Felton would have the same effect on him.
“I put Lynch on surveillance for the Felton place at night,” added Clayton, ignoring Ben’s statement about the mess he almost made of his betrothal. “If Rowlands knows who the witness is, he’ll show up at her residence when she’s alone.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. If no one comes looking for her, then they haven’t been able to discover her identity. She may be safe after all.”
Hope bloomed in Ben’s chest. While Kitty would still need to stay out of sight so she wasn’t spotted, the issue of her safety would be greatly reduced. “Roger must not need much sleep. Doesn’t he have regular hours now?”
“Paddy talked to his constable. He’s helping us with this case, and all information will be directly relayed to Bow Street.”
“Smart.” Ben took a deep breath, then set down his spoon.
“Uh-oh, whatever you’re about to tell me must be serious.” Clayton followed suit and gave Ben his full attention.
“I’m speaking with Mr. Felton. I want to court his daughter.” There, he’d said it out loud. It hadn’t been so bad.
Clayton let out a whistle. “She’s a beauty. There must be something special about her to lure you out from under the rock you’ve been hiding under.”
“I haven’t been hiding. I just needed to re-establish my priorities, make a wise decision about my future.”
“And find the right girl,” said Clayton with a knowing wink. “Be as practical as you want, but it doesn’t matter when Cupid strikes. All sense flies out the window.”
“You should know,” said Ben, raising his ale to toast his brother. “To the parson’s trap.”
“To tailormade leg-shackles,” agreed Clayton.
Ben walked the neighborhood until he found Mr. Felton. He stepped in beside him after scratching Terry’s ears.
