Although annoying, Drake had to admire his fortitude. However, it wouldn’t last long. Over the years Drake had developed a talent for gaining information. Setting his face closer to the stable master, he said low and evenly, “I ask because I believe you know what has happened to my quarry and I expect you to tell me where they went.”
Again, the man was silent, but Drake could see the flick of uncertainty that passed through his gaze. It was enough for him to move the dagger down to the center of his trousers and press the tip against a rather sensitive area. “Nowif you please.”
With a gasp, Daniel closed his eyes, but thankfully his mouth started to work. “London. They went to London,” he spat through clenched teeth.
Drake pressed a bit harder causing Daniel to wince. “Wherein London?”
He inhaled sharply, a curse following. Drake wasn’t sure if it was directed at him—or to the threat to his nether regions. “Chelsea.”
With narrowed eyes, Drake asked, “For what purpose?”
“To speak with a friend to ease her situation.” He glared back at Drake, his defiance finally making an appearance. “To find a way to payyou.”
Drake’s mouth twisted as he muttered in a low tone, “Thank you, Daniel. You have been of great assistance.” Bringing up the dagger, he flipped it around and slammed the handle against the stable master’s temple. He instantly crumpled to the ground. Although he had to give the man a regrettable headache, he couldn’t allow him to alert the authorities either. It had been a firm rule that Drake had set down for himself long ago.
He hadn’t intended to return to London so soon but it appeared he had little choice in the matter. He glanced about the stable deciding he would inspect things before he took his leave of Greenwich. If Daniel was as friendly with the Davies’ twins as he believed, then there could be something here that might be of use.
It didn’t take him long to find a door that looked interesting. He pushed it open and saw a small room on the other side with a single trunk. Curious, Drake walked over and lifted the lid, surprised to find that it wasn’t locked. At first, he thought it was empty but then he realized it was just the dark clothing inside that made it appear so at first glance. He lifted the dark material and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger with a thoughtful consideration. They appeared to be the garments that had been worn during the early morning duel the day before but although it hadn’t made sense to Drake that both Davies and his second might have worn the concealing shrouds, now an intriguing idea occurred to him. If Flavian’s sister was truly the one in charge of her brother, as her actions at the pub might indicate when she ordered him home, could it be that she was the true talent behind the mask of anonymity as well?
Drake almost found himself chuckling at the idea that such a slip of a woman might manage to deceive so many people—including himself.
Immediately, any humor vanished. He walked over to the Destrier and headed for the Davies cottage he’d glimpsed the night before. He would see what he could uncover there and then he was bound for London.
CHAPTER3
The first time Fleur had met Harriette Wilson it was purely by chance. She had come to London to take care of an unrelated matter concerning Flavian and had bumped into the courtesan quite literally in the middle of the street. Fleur had not known the sort of power that the lady had wielded but she must have made an impression in spite of her prolific apologies because Harriette had invited her to tea at her residence in Chelsea.
It was there that Harriette had confided to a complete stranger her intention to publish a series of memoirs about her life and name the men responsible for her current predicament. She did not seem pleased that she was not gaining the proper support in her advanced years as she’d hoped.
“Wellington dared to tell me to publish and be damned,” she’d said nonchalantly. “I decided to take that as a personal challenge.”
Fleur had been awestruck by the lady and the whirlwind life she had lived continuously at the mercy of men and their pleasure. Until her circumstances had become dire, she had managed to make a name for herself and gain the benefit of a wealthy benefactor. However, not everything lasted forever and the sacrifices due to her occupation had come with a price.
It was Fleur’s intention to appeal to the lady and attempt to find one gentleman who might ease her current situation—discreetly, of course—so that she might retain some semblance of a reputation and put her and Flavian back on the right track to respectability. No doubt she would have to leave London and never return if she went to such drastic lengths, but Fleur told herself that it would be worth it. There was no point holding on to her virginity any longer if it could be sold to the highest bidder and save her and Flavian from poverty, or worse yet, Newgate. She might be furious with her brother because of his shortcomings but she couldn’t stay angry at him. It was impossible because she’d told her parents that she would look after him when they were gone and she intended to fulfill that promise to the best of her ability.
It was nearly two in the morning by the time they arrived at the familiar residence in Chelsea. Fleur prayed that Harriette would remember her and offer her a place to stay for the night. It had been a gamble to rely on the charity of a woman she’d spent an afternoon with some time ago but Fleur had always kept her in the back of her mind if she’d needed someplace to go to for help. She felt that the woman would take pity on the woes of another trying to make her way with little else to recommend her but her sex.
“Stay here,” she ordered Flavian as she dismounted and tied the mare to the fence surrounding the neat townhouse. It might not be in the most affluent area of Mayfair, but the whitewashed buildings in their tidy rows was a far cry from anywhere that Fleur and her brother had ever called home. Although Harriette might have believed herself to be near destitution, Fleur doubted that she ever had to worry about her next meal.
Or if some intimidating man might come to collect his due like the grim reaper himself.
It was the image of Mr. Porter’s sleek smirk that had her climbing the front steps and grasping the door knocker and setting it firmly against the wood. It took another try before she could hear footsteps coming from within. A tired butler answered the door with a particularly cross look on his face. He took one look at Fleur’s faded gown and snapped, “We don’t take vagrants here.” He would have shut the door in her face if Fleur hadn’t slapped her hand resolutely against it.
“Miss Wilson is known to me. Tell her that Miss Fleur Davies is here to speak with her with the utmost urgency.” When he didn’t seem fazed, she added in a softer tone, “Please.”
He grumbled something beneath his breath but turned and headed for the stairs without asking her if she would like to wait in the foyer. Since he left the door open in his wake, Fleur took that as her own personal invitation so she stood inside and waited. She was already attempting to think where she might go next if the lady turned her away when she spied movement on the upper landing.
The butler did not reappear as Harriette descended the stairs in a flowing gown of white. She looked like an angel descending from the heavens but as she drew closer it was the hard lines around her mouth and the cynical tilt to her dark head that proved she was anything but celestial.
“When I was awakened from my slumber and told that you were here I daresay you could have knocked me over with a feather from surprise.” She smiled in a charming manner that Fleur was sure had caused the downfall of all those mentioned in her memoirs.
“I apologize for the late hour?—”
Harriette waved a delicate hand. “Not to worry, my dear. I have grown accustomed to being disturbed at all hours of the night. Many of which I accepted graciously.”
She smiled in a seductive manner, and heat bloomed in Fleur’s cheeks. Nevertheless, she attempted to explain her reasons for showing up unannounced. “I admit that I have come here hoping for assistance that you might be able to provide. My brother, Flavian and I?—”
“Your brother?” her brows lifted with interest.
