Welton winced. “Ah, Shuff. That wasn’t very sporting of you. Maudsley had promised her to me, ya know?”
“Shut up, Welton,” he said. “As you can see, we have more pressing issues.”
“But, Shuff—”
Shufflebottom’s arm shot out, knocking Welton back against the unforgiving bricks, and he collapsed in a heap.
“Ye can’t very well move ’em during the day. There ain’t a speck o’ fog,” Jervis said.
“Not easily,” Shufflebottom agreed.
Maeve hugged Penny closer, dearly hoping the girl didn’t grasp what they were saying.
Another figure had entered the room Maeve hadn’t noticed.
A woman dressed in all black. Her dainty hat with its black lace veil hid her face. But Maeve could tell from the cut and fit of her elaborate and expensive gown she was looking at the widow Chancé.
“We don’t wish to hurt you or the”—her pause indicated her eyes had settled on Penny from behind her veil—“child. We just want the ring.”
“It were stolen. I checked the safe meself when Hollerfield left town,” Jervis said. “Whore pro’bly sold it.”
The widow’s attention moved to Jervis.
Jervis stared at Maeve as if she were a bug under a scope. “I’ll toss her in the Thames. Won’t no one likely t’ see ’er fer weeks.”
Penny’s tiny fists tightened on Maeve’s behalf. “No!” Her cry was frantic.
Jervis started in Penny’s direction, and Maeve yanked her into her body.
The widow stripped off her hat, revealing eyes an odd shade of blue. “I abhor children,” she said. “If we drop one, we may as well drop both.”
“The child’s too valuable, my dear,” Shufflebottom said without an ounce of inflection.
“Ye can’t drown Lady Maeve. She be scared of water. She almost drowned when she were little. She lost-ed her sister.” Her little voice was a screech against the walls.
Jervis jerked Penny’s arm and shook her hard. Maeve heard her arm crack from the pressure.
Penny’s shrill, pained cry reverberated through the room. Maeve shoved him away, grabbed Penny to her chest. “Youbastard.”
Shufflebottom was there in an instant. “Didn’t you just hear me say she was too valuable, you idiot?” He jerked the gun from Jervis’s hand and hit him on the head with it.
The widow was gripping the back of the closest wooden chair, her breaths coming in sharp rapid takes. “Is that true, Lady Harlowe? Did you… lose your… sister in the river?”
Confused at the widow’s sudden pallor, Maeve swallowed and answered slowly. “It’s true. Her name was Caroline.”
“Dear God. Maevie,” she said and slid to the floor in a dead faint.
“Caro!” Shufflebottom barked.
“Caro. Caroline?” Maeve whispered.
A shadow filled the door. Harlowe. “Give it up, Shufflebottom.”
Relief slammed into Maeve.
Shufflebottom still held Jervis’s gun. He raised his arm.
Maeve screamed. “Brandon! The gun.”
