“I am here, little sister,” he whispered.
She walked by him and down the street. She did not have long to wait for a hackney. It stopped before her, and two men climbed out and paid the driver.
“Ho, what have we here?” one said loudly, seeing her.
“A maid out at this hour is no maid,” the other said.
“Got any m-money,” a voice slurred behind her, then went barreling into the men.
Samantha quickly gave directions to the driver, without looking at Rory who had collided with the men and climbed in the hackney. It drove away. She looked out the window in time to watch her brother stagger away and the two men pick themselves up off the ground, cursing loudly.
She knew he would be removing his old coat in seconds and running to mount the horse Max held for him around the corner in the next street.
She was being followed by her Huntington brothers, and the others would be there when she arrived. Some outside and some already in position inside the Duck and Goose. Nothing had been left to chance, and yet still she was terrified, but not for herself. She worried one of the people she loved would be hurt.
The drive had her nerves stretched tight as it had last time, but there was also the relief of knowing her family were close this time. The women had wanted to come but knew they would stand out so were at home waiting anxiously.
The hackney stopped all too soon, and she climbed down.
“We are close. Have no fear, Samantha. It will be over soon.”
Her eyes shot up, and she looked into the bright green eyes of Harry Sinclair. He sat beside the driver.
“Go now,” he urged her.
She tugged the hood of her cloak forward and walked down the narrow lane. It did not feel as terrifying as last time, because what now lurked in the shadows were people who loved her. A man stepped out of the dark, and the weak moonlight showed her the face of Ash.
“Hello, darling.” He swaggered toward her.
He pretended to lurch at her, and she scurried toward the Duck and Goose, stifling a giggle that was totally inappropriate in that moment given the gravity of the situation.
Entering the building, she exhaled slowly, letting her eyes adjust from the dark to the light. She searched the faces and found Dev to her right. He was dressed in an old jacket and worn hat. With him was Cam.
Samantha began to move through the patrons. There seemed many more tonight. A hand touched hers, and she looked into the eyes of Gus. She wanted to weep then. The scholar among them was here too. But of course he was. Family, she thought, would fight for family. They would do whatever it took to keep one of them safe.
She navigated through the patrons until she reached the two booths again. In her bodice, she had a small bag of money. She would hand that over and then leave. Those had been her orders. Samantha knew that after she had walked out, her family would grab the man.
Reaching the bar, she looked at the man slumped over his tankard. He turned slightly, and she realized it was Warwick. He glanced her way, and then turned away. Moving on, she found an empty booth and slid in. She clutched her hands together on the sticky surface of the table and waited.
“Hello.” A man sat across from her.
Shock had her looking, and she saw the recognition on the face of Zachariel Deville.
“Tell me what is going on, Samantha?”
“You have to go, now, Zach,” she whispered. “Please. At once.”
His eyes locked on hers, face serious, but he nodded and slid out. She did not turn but knew he was close.
“Well done in getting rid of that man.” The words were spoken over her shoulder. “But I am no fool, my lady. I know you did not come alone this night as I have asked you to do.”
“I did.”
“No, you did not. I saw your brother, the duke. Perhaps it is only he and perhaps not. But I will not take the risk.”
Her throat felt tight as she tried to swallow. He’d recognized James but no one else.
“Now here is what you are going to do if you have no wish for me to shoot your brother.”
