“Find out and go to the house. It can’t be far, as her aunt and uncle have attended social engagements this season. See if the boy has been taken or not.” Monty threw him a bag of money. “My thanks again, Jimmy.”
“I’ll leave as soon as I have an address,” Jimmy said.
“Send word as soon as you know to the Challoner town house, as the boy’s mother will be terrified. I will bring her back there as soon as I have her.” He looked to his butler. “Call for my horse, Haven.”
“At once,” the butler said.
“Pack Jimmy some food, Polly, please.”
Worry gnawed at Monty as he ran to his rooms. Pulling on a plain black jacket, he then stomped his feet into hessians. Wrapping his cloak around his shoulders, he grabbed his hat. Running to his office next, Monty unlocked the drawers. He put a pistol into his waistband and slid a knife into his boot. Last, he grabbed more money.
Looking at his desk, he saw the paper, quill, and ink.
“Christ,” he hissed. Bending, he penned a note.
The man I set to watch Iris intercepted a missive telling her to go to the White Swan. I’m unsure yet why, but her son Henry was threatened if she did not turn up. I have sent a man to check on the boy and am following so you don’t need to. I will inform you what transpires tomorrow.
Monty.
He folded the paper in half, then left the room. Finding his horse waiting, he handed Haven the note.
“Send this to Mr. Zachariel and Mrs. Mary Deville. Do not have the household woken, just slip the note under the door please.”
“At once, sir.”
“I’m growing soft,” he muttered, mounting his horse. Minutes later, he was galloping through London. There was still traffic about even at the late hour, but he wove through them and headed to the White Swan, a place he had been before in his role with Alexius.
Iris would be safe until he got there.She had to be.Whoever had sent that note simply wanted something from her, and the threat to her son had sent her out at night alone. He would have words with her about that.
Why had she gone alone and not taken her big, hulking butler? Norman would have protected her.
Was it Renton, or one of the other men her late husband was involved with that had forced her from her home alone?
The cold air slapped him in the face as he galloped. Fear and panic gnawed at his insides with every minute he drew closer to the White Swan. Was Iris still safe or in the clutches of someone intent on harming her? And what of her solemn-faced son? Had someone harmed his aunt and uncle to take him? Could he even now be terrified?
She will be safe. They just want something from her, he reminded himself. “Stay safe, Iris.” His words caught on the wind.
Monty halted near the White Swan. It wasn’t the worst street in London but not the best either.
“Need someone to hold your horse?” A boy appeared out of the dark. With him were two more children. Monty passed out coins.
“There will be more when I return.”
Raising his hood, he ran down the road to the tavern.
“Care to spend some time with a lady for a few coins?” A woman stepped into his path.
“Not tonight, thank you.” Stepping around her, he ran on until he reached his destination. A sign swung above the door. Soot had made the white swan on it a dirty gray. Lamplight filtered in through two narrow windows to the left.
Stay calm, he reminded himself. Emotion would not help this situation. Those words were something a Deville would usually say, not him. Shaking his head, he pushed the old oak door and entered.
Smoke, body odors, and the low rumble of voices greeted him as he moved through the patrons, looking at faces. Monty saw no sign of Iris. Reaching the bar, he faced the large man standing behind it.
“I’m searching for a woman.”
“Now that’s something I’ve not heard before.” The barman smirked.
“Upper class, and she came here to meet someone,” Monty snapped, handing over some coins. Large beefy fingers scooped them up.
