The Wolf gave a snort. “So many lessons, Steele. You sound like my old tutor.” He shook his head, as if clearing away the old cobweb of memories. “As to your request, I do not know who is responsible for the murders. All I can say is that if you wish to learn more about him, he shall be at Vauxhall at midnight awaiting your lady love.”
Cordell frowned. “How do you know that unless you are aware of his identity?”
“The rumor mill is not just for the aristocracy, Steele. There are whispers all over this city, and my men and I catch but a handful of snippets that we manage to piece together from time to time. I do wish I could offer more.”
Cordell doubted his show of sincerity. “Do you?” he scoffed lightly. He got to his feet, and he could feel the tension in the Pack behind him. “I appreciate your kind assistance, Wolf. If you think of anything else that could be useful, please send word my way.” He tapped a fist on the table. “I do wish you a pleasant evening.”
He started to go but he was stopped by the Wolf’s next statement. “How far are you willing to go for the truth to solve the mystery, Steele?”
Cordell slowly turned. He saw another cloud of smoke dissipate in the lantern light’s soft, eerie glow. “As far as it takes.”
“You would die for Miss Sims?”
“Yes.” Cordell should have been surprised at how easily the answer sprang to his lips but he wasn’t.
“And what of traversing the same, dark path that you have taken before? Would you allow yourself to endure the same misery?”
He clenched his fists. “If it meant securing Aislynn’s freedom, then yes.”
“Interesting,” the Wolf murmured. The cheroot was snuffed out along with the lantern light. “Good luck on your journey through hell tonight, Steele. I feel you will need it and Vauxhall is a good place to start.”
Chapter
Seventeen
For all of the time she had spent in London, Aislynn had never been to Vauxhall. For one, she did not feel she had a reason to engage in these entertainments when she was trying to build her own career. She supposed it was a different sort of engagement with the acrobats and magicians showcasing their talent for both the wealthy members of society while the common laborers who all watched in similar fascination. It was one of the few places where class did not seem to make such a difference, where those who could pay the cost of admission could freely experience the same delights as their more affluent neighbors on the opposing side of the city. Boats still traveled up and down the Thames in an endless string of bobbing anticipation but most of the crowd found their way across the bridge to the heart of the aptly named, “Pleasure Gardens,” which were notorious for their Dark Walks where couples could easily lose themselves in a torrid embrace among the flash of the fireworks overhead.
She wasn’t sure why her mother had chosen to meet in such a public place. At least Aislynn could take comfort in the fact there were plenty of people around to deter any unwanted attention.
Mingling among the crowd, she was told in the instructions of the letter that her mother would find her, that all she had to do was stay available in the crowd and wear something that would blend in. Aislynn had a limited supply of gowns, but she was able to “borrow” something from the theatre, shoving the costume into her bag before she had departed for Spades with Mary. Thankfully, most of the costumes were relatively easy to put on without much assistance and the deep blue gown fit into the surroundings perfectly. She did worry that the white satin gloves she wore might get ruined but it was all part of the act she was meant to play this night.
Aislynn did her best not to glance around too often but she had yet to gain sight of Lord Alton who had vowed to watch over her from a distance. She realized she was grateful for his insistence to do so that afternoon and breathed a little easier believing that he was waiting somewhere in the shadows to intercede if necessary. Naturally, her thoughts turned to Cordell and how she wondered if she’d made a mistake by not confiding in him, no matter her reasons for concealing the truth. She just could not get over the look of pain in his eyes when she’d told him to leave her. Would she be able to explain her reasoning where he could understand the deceit? The last thing she wanted to do was lose his trust in her when she had just discovered her trust in him.
As she drew closer to the rococo, Turkish tent, one of the largest and most impressive structures in the Gardens, Aislynn happened to see a flash of light. She narrowed her gaze and realized that it was the reflection on a small, mirrored compact catching the glare from a nearby lantern. She glimpsed the profile of her mother’s face as she disappeared inside the tent.
Taking a steadying breath, Aislynn clenched her fists as she made her way forward.
Once inside, the first thing she noticed was the smoke. It permeated the air, mingling with the scent of various dishes being consumed by the guests who were not fortunate or wealthy enough to procure a private, supper box. The interior was a homage to Asian culture with a mixture of chinoiserie and bright colorful designs. It was obvious this was a popular place for commoners to congregate, as Aislynn had a hard time navigating the overabundance of people engaging in revelry. However, she managed to catch sight of her mother’s chartreuse colored gown as she turned a corner further away from the assemblage.
She pushed her way forward as quickly as the crowd would allow until she found herself at the edge of the merriment. Flashes of light overhead added to the uncertainty of this moment as every fine hair was standing on end on the back of Aislynn’s neck. She wasn’t afraid of her mother and hadn’t been for a number of years, but for some reason, her arm suddenly started to ache, the memory of the broken bone that had never healed properly adding to her apprehension.
The hum of activity was still present when someone brushed her shoulder. She jumped and immediately regretted the action when Imogen eyed her with a critical eye. Folding her arms over her bodice, she sneered, “I hope you have the money.”
“That depends on whether or not you have the information you promised me.”
With a snort, her mother returned, “I promise that you will not be disappointed. Follow me.”
She started to turn and go, but Aislynn wasn’t having any of that. “You did not mention that I had to go anywhere with you. Information is a conversation, nothing more.”
“As if you would trust anything I had to say.” Aislynn gritted her teeth because it wasn’t as though the woman was wrong. “I am afraid if you want to know the answers to the murder’s identity, you will have to come with me. I guarantee that the proof will be worth it.”
Aislynn’s heart stopped. “He is not planning another murder this evening, is he?”
“I would not know,” Imogen shrugged. “But there are performers all around that would make an easy target. If you want their blood on your hands, that is up to you.” Aislynn uttered a curse and her mother laughed. “You are more like me than I anticipated.” Another firework split the night sky. “Time is ticking.”
Aislynn thought of the small metal object concealed within the pocket of her skirts. “Fine,” she spat. Looking around, she spied a dirty knife on the edge of a plate. She grabbed it and held it in her grasp. “But I will use this if necessary.”
Her mother did not reply, just set off in the opposite direction where Aislynn was reluctant to follow.
