“You’re certain she met with no other men?”
“I know how this sounds, but my sister was good and kind.She wasn’t a…a whore.”
“Of course not.”
They walked a few more paces before Miss Fairchild drew to a halt and faced him.She raised her chin.“I know it’s him.I can feel it in my bones.”
Hardly enough to condemn the man.Not without knowing more.He released her arm and took a step back.“You’ve been most helpful, Miss Fairchild.”
“I trust you’ll make sure he pays?”
“I’ll do my best to see justice served,” Adrian promised.He bid her farewell and departed, his intention to stop by Lundquist House next.The time had come for him to confront the marquess and, he hoped, acquire additional insight.One way or another, he would find the answers he sought.
A slow drizzle started as he turned onto Piccadilly.It dampened the air and beaded on Adrian’s jacket.As he strode, he turned up his collar to protect the back of his neck.Had Lundquist House been farther away he’d have ordered a hackney, but it seemed ridiculous when the walk could be accomplished in less than ten minutes.
Although a wet sheen had already settled on all visible surfaces by the time he turned onto Clarges Street, the area still bustled with activity.
It wasn’t unusual.Londoners were accustomed to stepping out in drearier weather than this.
When he’d gone another five yards, a soft prick of heightened awareness settled against the nape of his neck, stirring the hair at the base of his skull.It was a feeling Adrian was all too familiar with - one he’d experienced numerous times before and knew to heed.
It urged him to send a swift glance over his shoulder.Which was all it took for him to note the two men who stood out.Not because they looked different from any other working-class men milling about, but because of the dogged gleam in their eyes.
These were hounds on the hunt, probably possessing more muscle than brains and carrying blades they’d want to show off.
What he had no idea of was who might have sent them after him or what they might want.
He flattened his mouth and fisted his hands.Lundquist was his priority.He didn’t have time for pesky thugs.Then again, he did want to know who they worked for and what they meant to accomplish.
With a curse, he turned at the next intersection and slipped into the first alley he found.It was littered with discarded crates and refuse that must have been dumped there several weeks prior if the stench was any indication.Not even the rain could wash it away.
Grimacing, he pressed his back against the wall, then waited for the men to appear.
They did so soon enough.The tallest of the pair - a stocky fellow with a round face that showcased a bulbous nose – arrived first.His companion’s features were slightly more angular, the sharp red line slashing his cheek a souvenir from a previous fight.
Adrian grabbed them both by the scruff of their necks and shoved them against the filthy brick wall.It only worked because he’d taken them by surprise.Once they gathered their wits, he’d lose the advantage.A few seconds was all it would take.If that.
“What do you want?”he snarled, his fingers digging against their grimy cravats.Water droplets settled upon his face, dampening his skin as the drizzle worsened.
Chubbycheeks grinned, revealing an incomplete set of stained teeth.“Ye’ll see soon enough.”
Adrian wasn’t allowed time to ponder his meaning before Scarface slammed his forehead straight into Adrian’s.
The impact sent his hat tumbling and made his teeth rattle.Thankfully, instinct born from experience and endless hours of training with Murry enabled a swift and instinctive response.
Fists curling more firmly around the cravats, he dropped to a crouch.The action forced both men off balance and sent them stumbling.Aided by the momentum, Adrian swung himself forward between them while releasing his hold in the process.
He swiveled around as he started to rise, moving fast while doing his best to block out the pain in his head.Once upright, he launched himself at the nearest assailant, thrusting his fist into Chubbycheeks’s jaw before he’d regained his footing.
A grunt accompanied the crunch of bone, the force of the blow knocking Chubbycheeks back while bloodstained spittle flew through the dank air.But the time it had taken to complete the strike allowed Scarface to land a punch to Adrian’s gut, knocking the air from his lungs.
Despite the force, he remained on his feet, but barely managed to gulp down a breath before both men advanced together.He flexed his fingers in anticipation of their next move.It came soon enough, though not as quickly as he might have feared.The thugs lacked swiftness and finesse, which made it possible for him to dodge their attacks and block their blows as long as he kept his wits about him.
“Damned toff,” Chubbycheeks growled when Adrian nimbly avoided a punch to the sternum while countering with a hard blow to the man’s shoulder.
“You’d be wise to know who you’re after,” Adrian told him, his knuckles cracking as they found Scarface’s nose.“I’ve more in common with Wycliffe than with the Prince Regent.”
It occurred to him too late that engaging in chatter was foolish.Doing so broke his concentration and slowed his movements just enough to let Chubbycheeks smash his knuckles against the edge of Adrian’s eye-socket.
