“You knew?” Grace asked.
“’Course I knew. I trafficked in such secrets, once, and that was a damned good one. I once had possession of this very manifest, if memory serves.”
Once—but no longer. “What became of it?” Grace asked. “That is—how did this Cooper come into possession of it?”
“No fucking idea,” Uncle Chris said. “I rid m’self of that sort of thing years and years ago, at yer Aunt Phoebe’s insistence. My butler was meant to dispose of it all properly. Suppose it’spossible ‘e returned it to its original owner rather than to Lockhart’s family.”
“And you never…used it yourself?” Henry asked carefully.
“Naw. What for? My coffers were overflowing already by the time I came into possession of it. And yer father was a good sort. Yer uncle, however…” A shrug that spoke volumes. “The money I might’ve gotten from yer father weren’t worth the risk o’ puttin’ yer uncle in a position ‘e’s not fit to occupy.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” Grace said, relieved. “Something must be done.”
“Hell, no.” Uncle Chris folded the letter up and handed it back. “This is none o’ yer nevermind, Gracie. Let ‘is lordship solve ‘is own problems. That’s my advice to ye.”
“I can’t. He’s not like us. You and me, I mean to say. He’s only just learned to cheat at cards—”
A disdainful sniff. “Hopeless, then.”
“Oh,please, Uncle Chris.” Grace clasped her hands before her; a gesture of supplication. “It’s important to me. I promised him my assistance, and—”
“Why? He threaten ye or something o’ that nature?” Uncle Chris leveled a firm stare at Henry.
“No.” The denial had come from Henry, firm and clear. “I’ll admit that I did use Grace’s penchant for thievery to persuade her to hear me out, but nothing more than that. Her secrets are safe with me, and always will be.”
Uncle Chris’ stiff posture loosened, just a little. The barest sign of a begrudging respect, Grace thought. “Why, then, Gracie?”
“Because—because—” An awkward shrug pulled at her shoulders. “Because I know what it is to be helpless. Because I have got a skill which I once used for the wrong reasons which might now be used for the right ones.” Uncle Chris was listening intently now, perhaps even more so than Henry. “Because mysisters once rescued me when I needed it, when they owed me nothing—less than nothing, even. They could have sent me to prison with Mama, and they didn’t. And I would like to extend that same grace, wherever possible.”
“Aw, hell, Gracie.” Uncle Chris scrubbed at his face with one hand. “What am I meant to say to that?”
“That you’ll help,” Grace said. “Please. You’ve read the letter. You know we haven’t very much time. There are lives hanging in the balance.” She pursed her lips, inhaled sharply. “We need to know about the sender of the letter, and where he might be found.”
Uncle Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. Above the clasp of his fingers, his eyes narrowed, landing squarely upon Henry. His voice was clipped, syllables perfectly enunciated: “I am holding youpersonallyresponsible for Grace’s safety, Lockhart,” he said. “Anything at all happens to her, and it’s your head.” His free hand fisted upon the silver head of his cane.
Not an idle threat, then. Grace swallowed hard.
So did Henry. “Understood,” he said. “I won’t let her come to harm.”
Uncle Chris heaved a sigh, ducking his head and raking his fingers through his hair. “I knew the bloke,” he said. “Cooper, that is. Years ago. Don’t rightly know where ‘e is now, and don’t particularly care to. But I can give Rafe a proper description o’ the bastard, as well as some of his usual haunts—leastwise, what once were ‘is usual haunts.”
“Will that be enough to find him?” Henry asked.
“I’d lay odds on it.”
“Thank you,” Grace breathed in gratitude as she stepped forward to embrace him. “Thank you. I just knew you would help.”
“Tell yer sisters I did, and I’ll deny it to my dyin’ day,” he said, tilting his face to receive the kiss she planted upon hischeek. “Remember what I’ve always told you, hm?”
“Drunkards have got the easiest pockets to pick?” Grace suggested.
“Don’t get cheeky, brat,” he said fondly, and tweaked her nose for her temerity. “Never get yerself into trouble ye can’t get yerself out of. Now get out, both o’ ye. And Gracie—next time ye bring him to supper, it had damned wellbetterbe to ask my blessing.”
∞∞∞
Henry breathed a deep sigh to find himself once more out in the hall, with a great, thick, mahogany door separating him from Mr. Moore. “I can’t believe he agreed,” he said, feeling his shoulders wilt with relief. He felt faintly light-headed, almost drunk with it.
“I told you he would,” Grace said, sounding rather pleased with herself. “Now there is only to wait.”
