He’d learned early in his duties to Alexius that money made nearly everyone talk. The barman nodded to the stairs.
A man in a dark jacket skirting the edges of the throng caught his eye. He couldn’t see his face, but his dress suggested this was not a place he normally frequented.
He took the stairs, and Monty felt the need to follow. The man then disappeared through the second door down the narrow hallway. Moving closer, he pressed his ear to the wood.
“Your son will remain unharmed, Lady Challoner, if you hand over what I want.”
Monty didn’t recognize the voice. Rage that anyone would threaten Iris coursed through him. He tamped it down. No good would come from storming in there until he needed to; he could get both him and Iris shot.
“Who are you? Why have you brought me here?” she demanded.
“Shut up and listen to him, Lady Challoner.” There were two men inside with Iris. That voice was coarser and less refined.
“What do you want?”
“A bundle of papers your husband held. They are wrapped in a black silk ribbon. You’re going to get them for me.”
“But I have no notion of where I would find them. Tell me where my son is,” Iris demanded.
“That’s not true!” a voice roared. “His desk was empty, as was the secret cavity.”
“What secret cavity? When were you in my husband’s house searching through his things? Who are you?” Iris asked, sounding nowhere near as terrified as she should be.
She was pretending to be ignorant to what she knew. It was an excellent ploy, but only if they believed her.
“I know of no such place. My husband forbade me to enter his study.”
Monty thought seriously about digging the late Lord Challoner up just to put a bullet through his head. He knew now the man had mistreated his wife and son. Iris. It chafed at him to leave her in there at the mercy of those men, but he needed to hear everything that was said. One hint of danger, and he’d be on the men in a heartbeat.
“Where is my son? Have you kidnapped him? I will not speak again until I have an assurance he is well.”
“You are in no position to make demands, my lady. You are at our mercy,” the gruff voice said.
“I will not talk until I know he is safe.” Her voice held no quaver, but he knew Iris would be terrified. But not for herself, for Henry.
“I will not touch your son as long as you do as we say.”
“Where is he?” Iris demanded.
“Still with his aunt and uncle, but my men are watching and will abduct him if you do not do as I say. Now, I had someone check your husband’s study. He broke in, and that secret drawer under his desk was empty. I want the contents, and I know only you can have them.”
“My husband’s office was locked, and we had no key. If anyone took some of my late husband’s papers, it would be Mr. Renton.”
“Renton?” one man said, and Monty could hear the surprise in his voice.
“Yes. My former brother-in-law called upon me here in London. He told me he had accessed my husband’s office, so it is likely he who has anything you want. What would I, a woman who knows little about anything, know of what was in there? My husband told me nothing of his affairs.”
The woman was a bloody genius. She’d just told whoever was in that room that Renton may have her late husband’s papers. Suggesting he was keeping them to himself.
Monty remembered the night of the Raine ball when he’d been in the gardens. Renton had told whoever he was with that he’d searched his late brother’s things and found nothing incriminating.
“Don’t play me for a fool, my lady. Renton would not go against me—”
“Why?” Iris demanded. “Who are you?”
“I will give you two days, Lady Challoner, and if they have not been handed to me by then, it will go worse for you and your son.”
“I don’t know what you want! If you touch my son, I will kill you.” The words came out as a low growl from Iris.
