“You’re not staying?”
He hesitated, saying over his shoulder. “I will return later on this evening to escort you to the opera. Unless you have changed your mind?”
“No. That sounds… lovely.” And it wasn’t just because she was getting to do something exciting, but because she would be with him.
He nodded his head and left as Fleur sat down to dine alone.
* * *
“You didn’t tell her?”
Drake glared at Amos. “It’s best if she doesn’t know. It would only upset her more.”
They were on their way to make further arrangements in case they had to put their alternate plan into motion. He hoped it didn’t come to that, but he didn’t put anything past Miss Wilson and her desire to live as she’d always intended. She was already using Flavian as her pawn but it didn’t appear that Fleur’s brother minded in the least.
He clenched his jaw, angry that the man didn’t have the spine it took to stand up for what was right. He surely knew how his sister had been treated, and yet, he remained at the courtesan’s bedside like an obedient dog.
“You don’t believe it will upset her if she finds out you were privy to the lady’s schemes?”
“But I’m not,” Drake pointed out firmly. “I am merely making preparations to remove Flavian before she can squeeze any more funds from me.”
“And you believe that doesn’t count as concealing the truth.” The other man snorted, his blue eye revealed narrowing slightly. “All this time I thought you were keen on women but you don’t know much if you believe your paramour will take this information lightly. You need to tell her before she finds out by some other means and you return to being the cruel villain who separated her from her blood.”
Drake didn’t reply. He knew that Amos spoke logically but Drake didn’t need Fleur getting involved in something any more dangerous than necessary. If she should uncover Harriette’s motives, she might try to rescue Flavian on her own. God only knew what would happen should that come to pass. One of the things he admired about Fleur was her determination and her courage but Miss Wilson was not like a disgruntled patron Fleur might have encountered at Greenwich. She knew nothing of the tactics that desperate women in Harriette’s situation would do to secure their position within society, a position that had previously been stripped away.
Silence continued to remain supreme as Drake and Amos made their way to the East End of London. These were the streets that they were familiar with. They knew every stench filled alleyway, every dark and dirty lodging house, shop, and pub, as well as everything in between that most everyone else tried to ignore. Whitechapel was the breeding ground for crime, where a man could find himself at the mercy of a pickpocket and the barrel of a pistol in the same night. It was filled with the lowest of humanity, those that had fallen on hard times and had nothing left to lose.
People like Drake had once been. He didn’t have to look into the hollow, sunken eyes of the boys in their torn rags as they slept against the side of a roughhewn building. He had been there many times. He could still remember the feel of the dagger handle in his grasp as he jerked awake with the slightest noise, wondering if he was about to breathe his last.
He despised coming back here but he knew these were the men he could count on. With a few coins, he could buy loyalty for a brief time. However, once the job was complete, he might find himself mugged and left for dead. It was the way of the world he knew. But he could also rub elbows with a duke and duchess in the midst of a ballroom if the occasion warranted it. He’d made sure to learn it all.
He led the way into the Crown and Sceptre that had already awakened for the evening. Drink was flowing freely, the loud guffaws from men already well into their cups seated around the center of the bar.
Drake ignored it all as he headed for the door at the rear of the pub. There was a man pissing out the back door but Drake paid him no heed. He was there to speak to someone in particular. Although he wasn’t a man he could trust as well as Amos, he was a man who spoke and caused others to listen.
He rapped sharply on the wood four times in quick succession. There was a pause and then the wood flew open and Drake met the stone-faced expression of the gang leader’s right hand. He had light hair that was plastered to his head, a gap-toothed grin and eyes that could pierce any soul. “Porter,” he said with a snarl. It wasn’t a polite greeting that he might have received in a ballroom but the closest he would get to approval to speak to the man in charge.
Drake started to move forward, but when Amos would have done the same, his way was blocked. “Your kind aren’t allowed.”
That was a slight that Drake had never stood for. He put his face directly in the other man’s sight and said in a low growl, “Amos is with me.” He waited for an altercation, but a bored voice spoke up from the back.
“Stop being an ass, Reynolds. Let them both through.”
Reynolds stepped back with a snort that promised trouble but he did as he was instructed. As Drake and Amos moved further into the room, they encountered the man they sought. The clean shaven, well dressed, dark-haired gentleman looked as if he would be better suited in the middle of a Parliament hearing rather than behind the scarred desk that held more secrets of Whitechapel than Drake wanted to learn. Although he probably already knew most of them, Avalon had been chosen as the keeper of every misdeed that went on in Whitechapel. It was rumored that he had a list of offenders and their respected grievances, as well as the proof to back it all up, which is why he was more feared than the Runners who dared to patrol these streets.
Adopting a casual pose, Avalon clasped his hands together and regarded Drake as cordially as if they were about to have tea. “I heard you were going to be coming by to see me.”
“Did you?” Drake drawled, although he wasn’t surprised. The man had an uncanny ability to know information before it was ever suggested. It was another asset that made him so revered in the underground.
“You know an audience with me will cost you dear, as well as any assistance I might deign to give, since I prefer to be a neutral party in all matters, although I am somewhat empathetic to your plight.” He lifted a brow. “I heard your lady was quite comely. I would be keen to keep hold of such a prize myself. Perhaps you might introduce us?”
Drake wanted nothing less but he knew in order to gain this man’s assistance, as well as the men he had at his disposal at the snap of a finger, he had to play nice. “We will be at the opera tonight.”
His smile grew to showcase even white teeth. “Then I shall anticipate the curtain rising.”
CHAPTER11
Fleur should have been thrilled by the parade of fashionable dresses that were brought through the bedchamber and crowded into the massive wardrobe. There were surely more gowns than she could ever hope to wear but she thanked the modiste on Mr. Porter’s behalf and stared at the array of color on display.
