Ives tightened his hold on the collar. “One more time. Why are you watching that house? Why and for whom?”
“You have it wrong.” As he protested, the man glanced down the street. Ives looked, too, and saw the small carriage waiting there.
Ives pulled the culprit’s face into yet more light. Narrow and long, the face needed a good shave. The eyes, close set and round, appeared familiar. “I know you. I have seen you before.”
“That you have, milord.”
“In court.”
“As a witness for the Crown, I am proud to say. We were on the same side. The loyal side. Crippin’s the name, milord.”
Now he remembered. Crippin worked for the Home Office. A year ago he had infiltrated a radical group, and led them into acts for which they were arrested once he informed on them. The jury had shown little sympathy for radicals lured into crime by the state. Ives sorely regretted agreeing to serve as prosecutor after he learned of the government’s involvement.
He looked down the street at the carriage again. “You are planning to abduct someone, aren’t you? The guest in that house?”
“Not abduct. Borrow. For a conversation. You know how it is done, sir.” His voice came out strangled and low. “Will be quicker this way, than your trying to pry it out of her.”
“I have concluded there is nothing to pry, so you can spare her the outrage.”
“I just got word she visited Newgate again today, and talked to the prisoner for some time, so there’s those who don’t agree with you on that conclusion. Now, if you would unhand me, and take yourself elsewhere, she will be coming out soon, I believe.”
Ives did unhand him, but only to ensure he did not throttle him completely. “You will leave, not me. Nor will you return. This is the home of a duke, and no one has the authority to set a surveillance on it. Whoeversent you here will pay dearly for the insult. As will you, if I see you here again.”
Crippin sighed heavily. “Maybe he who sent me will talk to that duke, and you will be the one to pay for interfering with matters that address the safety of dukes, and others like yourself.”
“Do you dare to threaten me?Leave, before I thrash you senseless.”
Crippin walked away, shaking his head. Ives waited until he climbed into the carriage and it rolled away. Then he strode toward Langley House.
***
Padua had no desire to ride through town again. Mr. Notley’s note made her feel guilty, however, so after dinner she tied on her bonnet, donned her pelisse, and picked up her reticule. She checked to be sure she carried some coins, then headed down to the door.
“Please have a hired coach procured for me,” she told the servant manning the reception hall.
He turned on his heel, and strode to the door.
He did not leave. Someone stood outside. The servant stepped to the side of the threshold.
Ives strode in. He walked right up to her, stopped, and examined her from bonnet to shoes. “Are you going out?”
“I received a summons from the lawyer. He asked that I call on him as soon as possible.”
“It is very late for that.”
“It is important, he says.”
“May I see this letter?”
She did not like his tone. Not so much suspicious as imperious; there was a good mix of the former in it too. His expression had assumed its most chiseled countenance. His eyes pierced whatever he saw. Especially her.
She dug into her reticule. “It is a business jotting, no more, from one of his clerks.” She handed it to him.
With a flourish he flipped it open and held it to the lamp on a nearby table. “This did not come from Notley, or one of his clerks. Clerks have better hands when they use a pen, and lawyers have better paper.”
“If not from Mr. Notley, from whom?”
“Come with me.” He took her hand and strode to the back of the house, pulling her along.
