Best of luck, Radcliffe.
Marcus nodded at the men.It was all very well having help, but where the hell had they taken her?He had no idea where to look.There was no point just randomly rushing off and searching.This was London, the largest city in the world, with a thousand hidden alleyways down which criminals could dive, and dozens of rookeries that were home to the poor, the desperate and the criminal.
Doubtless the rational thing to do would be to go home and wait for the ransom—surely there would be a ransom demand.But he wasn’t feeling rational: he was beside himself with worry.He couldn’t possibly go home and wait tamely for a ransom note.In any case his aunt was there to receive any demand.
If one came.
He prayed one would.He’d pay anything to get Tessa back, safe and sound.Oh lord, what if they hurt her?Or worse?He couldn’t bear it.
He needed her to be safe, to be with him.But what could he do?Where had they taken her?
He paced back and forth in front of the elegant little shop, trying to work out what to do, fruitlessly scanning his surrounds for any hint of where they’d gone, the questions eating at him.Who would kidnap her?Some unknown enemy?He couldn’t think of any.What were they doing to her?Was she terrified?Of course she was.Any woman would be.
He paced, trying to think of what to do, flooded with anxiety and fuming at his own impotence.
Just then a grubby, ragged urchin came running up, gasping for breath.It was Joey, the boy he’d been trying to tempt off the streets.He grabbed Marcus’s sleeve.His mouth opened and closed like a fish as he gasped to catch his breath.“Me lady,” he finally wheezed.
“What of her?”Marcus said, suddenly intent.
Joey continued his fight to catch his breath, his narrow chest heaving with exertion.A few precious moments later he rasped huskily, “I saw ‘em take her.”
“What?”
A few more gasping breaths and the boy said, “An’ I know where she is.”
Marcus grabbed him by the shoulders.“How?Where?”
In between gasps, the boy said, “I been watching ‘im—that bad’un I told you about.He’s bin follerin’ her around, so I bin follerin him.‘E’s the one what took her.I saw ‘im do it.”
Marcus clamped down on his impatience.After a few more deep, ragged breaths Joey continued.“I saw ‘im grab ‘er, so I nipped across the road and jumped on the back of ‘is carriage an’ hung on like blue blazes—it din’t ‘alf go fast.”
He stopped to gulp in another few deep breaths.“An’ when it stopped and they took me lady out—she’s got a dirty great bag over ‘er head and she couldn’t walk—they ‘ad her feet tied—but I fink she’s all right.She wasn’t crying or nuffin’.So I hid and watched, and when they took ‘er inside, I legged it.”On a final great gasp, he finished, “An’ then I come back here coz I figgered you’d be here.Plus, it was closer than your place.”
“Good lad.Can you show us where they went?”
The boy nodded.“Course.”
Marcus sent one of the footmen back to tell his aunt what was going on.Radcliffe’s men, the brawniest footman and Flynn piled into the carriage—the extra pairs of fists would be useful.He and Joey sat up top with the coachman and groom, so that Joey could direct them.
#
THEY WOVE IN AND OUTof the traffic, down ever smaller, narrower and more noisome lanes and alleys, young Joey telling the coachman where to go.
Marcus was beside himself.The questions pounded through his brain, the same questions over and over.Was she all right?Had they hurt her?Who’d kidnapped her?And why?
If they’d hurt her, or worse...His chest seized.He couldn’t bear it.Couldn’t bear to live without her.Shewashis life.
Finally, the streets became so narrow they had to get down and go by foot.“Not far now,” Joey said.
Marcus prayed he was right.So much was riding on this small scruffy boy’s sense of direction.His whole happiness in fact.
#
“SHE’S IN THERE,” JOEYwhispered, pointing at a narrow, ramshackle building, seemingly unoccupied, with roughly boarded-over windows.“You can see in through that crack.”
Marcus was so tense he could hardly breathe.He peered through the crack in the boarded-up window.His breath came back in a rush.There she was, tied to a chair by the look of it.As the boy had said, a bag had been tied over her head, but it was Tessa, he knew.She sat up straight, seeming quite calm—or maybe it was because she was tied up so tight and couldn’t move.
Relief rippled through him.She was alive.Suddenly he was calm—furious but calm.He knew exactly what to do.
