“Had you expected otherwise?”
No, he hadn’t. Grace was beautiful and personable; clever and witty. It only stood to reason she would have her fair share of admirers. But it strained some corner of his heart. Pricked it with something rather like jealousy. It seemed unfair, somehow, that anyone else should claim even that small fraction of her attention, when he—
When he wantedallof it.
He knew parts of her that no other gentleman ever had. Possibly that no other gentleman ever would. Would she ever share with some other man the truth of her origins? Teach him to cheat at cards? Kiss him on a deserted balcony beneath the pale glow of the moon? Sneak into his house in the darkest depths of the night in only her wrapper? Run those delicate, bewitching fingers up his chest, scrape them through his hair?
“I was only curious,” he said, his voice gone oddly hoarse. “I told you what had kept me, after all. I wondered what had occurred in my absence.”
“As it happens,” she said, pitching her voice to a murmur.“Uncle Rafe has come through. I have got his note in my reticule.”
“You have?” The fine hairs at the nape of Henry’s neck prickled. It had been well over a week since that dinner, since they’d left the matter within Mr. Moore’s hands—and they’d heard nothing since. Time had been swiftly winding down, and Henry had experienced it as sand in an hourglass, waning inexorably toward the end of his life as he knew it.
“I have,” she said, and that sly little smile he’d grown to find so enchanting played about her mouth. “Cooper is known to frequent a tavern in Whitechapel called the Queen’s Arms. Of course we cannot go this evening,” she said. “I can hardly slip away from a ball without being noticed, and the pub will no doubt be closed by the time the ball lets out.”
“Grace,” Henry sighed.
“I haven’t got an engagement tomorrow evening, so it would be the perfect—”
“Grace,” he said again. “No.”
“No?” That smile faded into a frown with alarming alacrity. “Henry—”
“I’ve told you,” he said, “I won’t risk your safety.” Their last adventure had been in the safety of his uncle’s townhouse, on a quiet residential street. And still it had nearly proved catastrophic. “You cannot be seen in Whitechapel, and it’s unsafe for a lady besides.”
She scoffed, with a roll of her eyes that was unnecessarily dismissive. “I promise you, I’ve been in worse places, and in worse circumstances.”
“That does not reassure me.” But it scored a little part of his heart to know that there had been whole years of her life fraught with danger, in which there had been no one able—or willing—to protect her. “I am not going to let you cast yourself headlong into danger.”
“Oh, come. Have a little more faith in me than that,” she said. “It wouldn’t beheadlong.”
“It won’t be sidelong, either, or from any other direction or angle you might happen to contrive to accomplish. Mr. Moore made me responsible for your safety; I will not compromise it.” Certainly not if it involved her strolling blithely through some of the worst slums of London.
“You need me,” Grace said, her voice lowering. “You look like what you are; you’ll be lucky to leave with your life. You certainly won’t leave with your valuables.”
“Then I won’t take any,” Henry said. “Besides, I have got a plan.” One he’d been turning over in his head in preparation these last several days as they had waited for this very news.
“A plan?”
Henry swept them away from a couple that had taken a turn too close. “Cooper wants the sum of one thousand pounds from my uncle in exchange for the passenger manifest,” he said. “It’s possible that my uncle has had some trouble coming up with that amount. My staff informs me he’s come to call twice more, most likely to extort more money from Mother. He’s been refused both times, naturally.”
“He has still got valuables,” Grace warned. “Perhaps he’ll get only a fraction of the value of them if he should sell them, but he’ll do what he must to come up with the money. And once he has got the evidence he needs…”
Henry knew already. He’d have the titleandthe bulk of the estate. Worth far more than whatever valuables he had sacrificed to obtain it. “I know,” he said. “So I’m going to offer Cooper double what he’s asked of my uncle.”
“Henry, that’s madness.”
“It’s the most reasonable solution. I’ll offer him a bank draft—”
“Abank draft?” Grace echoed, nonplussed. “Henry. Men likeCooper do not traffic in bank drafts. And what’s more, there is a certain sort of honor amongst thieves and criminals. It would be a blot upon Cooper’s reputation—such as it is—to renege upon a deal, even for double the going amount. He will not negotiate with you.”
“You can’t know that,” Henry said. “Not for certain, at least.”
“I don’t need to know him,” Grace said. “I have known people like him. Uncle Chris would tell you the same. You must understand that to men like him, this is very much a business.”
“The business of extortion, you mean to say. What sort of business is that?”
“To him—and to men like him—a business the same as any other. The products he sells might differ from those that you would find in a storefront, but they still have got value. Value that is compromised if it becomes known he will not honor his word.” Grace winced as the music began to draw to a close, and hurried through the rest of her speech. “Even at double what he would charge your uncle for the same, what he stands to lose in reputation is no doubt worth significantly more than an extra thousand pounds. Oh,please, Henry—”
