“But I did see how they mark the carriages,” Madelina offered. “How those young men pick out the women and mark where they’re sitting with some sort of code. We could have them arrested.”
“I don’t believe you can have someone arrested for smudging chalk on a carriage.”
“Or have men of our own watch for them and stop them, or get to the girls first, since now they’ll know who the targets are,” Madelina said in a rush.
“It’s possible. I’ll give it some thought. It doesn’t solve the true problem, though.” Her aunt thumped from the room.
Madelina hung her head. She scrubbed her hands over her face, then crossed to slump onto one of the sofas, away from the fireplace. Fleetingly, she wondered if some of her aunt’s disappointment sprang from the fact that it was Miss White who had, long ago, put a pistol ball in Aunt Aubrey’s hip.
Madelina distinctly recalled her aunt saying that Miss White had worked for Madam Dequenne, but now it seemed Miss White was Madam Dequenne. How was that possible? Madelina couldn’t ask. To do so would be to admit she’d eavesdropped.
Could the position be a title, almost like being a duke? Or perhaps more like a town crier, since Madelina doubted the post was hereditary. She had too many questions. Did she dare try to get the answers, now that Miss White knew her for the coward she was?
A knock sounded on the doorframe. Madelina looked up.
“Mister Mclintock to see you, my lady,” Wilks yelled into the room.
Mclintock? Fury rekindled inside her. “Show him in, please, Wilks.”
Wilks couldn’t have read her tone, but he must have noted her narrowed gaze and the anger that suffused her features. He hesitated in the doorway. “Are you sure, my lady? Shall I send for your aunt?”
“I am sure, and there’s no need to send for Aunt Aubrey. Mister Mclintock will not remain long.”
The butler nodded. Expression worried, he departed. Madelina clenched her hands and waited the short time it took for footsteps to return down the hall. She surged to her feet as the two men appeared in the doorway. Mister Mclintock, too, must have read her expression, for he stopped one step into the room.
Madelina leaned to the side so Wilks could see her face around the tall gentleman. “That will be all, Wilks. Thank you.”
He offered a hesitant nod and left.
She turned her ire on Mister Mclintock, trying to ignore his strong, even features, his golden curls, his long-fingered hands. She’d felt their strength on her person.
He rocked back on his heels. “What have I done now?”
Should she tell him? Her aunt had said they would leave London. What difference would it make? “You and Miss White abduct young women. All your talk of charitable efforts is a lie.”
If he’d appeared taken aback by her anger, his expression became doubly so. “I beg your pardon?”
“It is notmypardon you should beg.”
He took a long stride into the room, confusion giving way to irritation. “We do not abduct young women. We’re trying to save them, to put an end to such atrocity. Furthermore—”
She rushed up to him, unwilling to endure the pain of his lies. “Really? Then why did I overhear Miss White threaten a girl at your club, Miss Kitty, for trying to get away from her life there?” Even as she spoke, Madelina recalled Miss White had also forbade Miss Kitty from telling Mister Mclintock of their conversation, but passion spurred her on. There could be no stemming her words. “Why did Miss White shoot my aunt? Why—”
“Miss Kitty? Shoot yo—”
“I am not finished,” Madelina yelled. “Why was she there yesterday, giving orders about selling those girls and inspecting their teeth? And why did you come rushing in to save her when I nearly had her?” And why, why hadn’t she been able to squeeze the trigger and shoot that vile woman?
Triumph lit Mister Mclintock’s features. “So, you admit, you are Little Hook.”
“I am, so you can save your lies, Mclintock.”
“My lies? You’ve been running about London dressed as a lad and you accuse me of lies?”
“You bought girls at that auction.” Madelina ticked the points off on her fingers, a body of evidence she’d been wrong to ignore. “You own a gambling hell. You employ lightskirts. And you kept me from chasing Miss White yesterday. What did you do with the women she held? Tell me where they are.”
He caught one of her hands in a strong grip. She pulled her other back to slap him, but he captured that one, too. He studied her face.
“I bought those young women at the auction to free them, just as I freed the ones we found in the cellar yesterday.” Question filled his amber eyes. “Is that why you dress as Little Hook? To save women? They said you were trying to help them escape.”
