His lips quirked. “I must confess, I like knowing you’re concerned about my well-being.”
Her hands moved to her hips as a stormy look filled her eyes, erasing all semblance of her being even remotely worried. “You are by far the most vexing man I’ve ever encountered.”
“Because you can’t stop thinking about me?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“No, because you… Oh, never mind.”
She spun away and was almost through the door when he said, “I promise that I will return to you unscathed.”
A fragile promise he knew he risked breaking, but leaving her like this — anxious and scared on his behalf — was the last thing he wanted.
“Thank you.” Her whispered words drifted toward him, like a snare intended to pull him to her. Unsure of what he intended to do, he started in her direction, only to pause at the sound of Lewis’s voice coming from the hallway.
“Is Kendrick still in there?” the Runner asked Gabriella.
“He is.” She stepped aside so Lewis could enter.
“Forgive the interruption, but my colleagues have returned with information for you.” Lewis extended his hand, offering Peter a piece of paper. “Looks like Kipling has been found.”
Peter stilled, his heartbeats slowing. It was vital they get to Kipling before he met the same fate as his friends. If they were lucky, he might even be able to tell them who could have done this.
Taking the paper, he scanned the address. “Number 17 Shoe Lane.”
Unfortunately Kipling’s new residence lay in the opposite direction of where Peter was headed. To go there now would waste precious time but to wait…
He dared not do so and yet, he couldn’t abandon the Crofts either.
Torn, he tried to reason his way through this challenge. As it was, he was meant to be on his way. The five minutes he’d given his Runners were already up.
“Let me help.” Gabriella’s voice was firm.
“What?” Peter was already shaking his head.
“There are two essential matters that need your attention. However, you cannot be in two places at once, so let me help. I can go and fetch Kipling, together with Lewis if you can spare him. That ought not be a dangerous task.”
“I don’t know about that,” he hedged.
“Thanks to the pubs and dance halls in the nearby Fleet Street area, plenty of people should be about. No need to worry.”
“There were plenty of people about at the Moorland Ball,” Peter reminded her.
“Not in the conservatory.” She gave him a flat look. “The killer might strike again if we don’t warn Kipling. They’re unlikely to make their move while we’re there.”
“Fine, but you’re taking Anderson too.” As long as she was accompanied by two men, Peter was confident all would be well, though he did think to add, “And you’re taking a carriage.”
“I never would have considered not doing so.”
Confident she would use the necessary precautions, Peter exchanged a few words with Anderson and Lewis, informing them to protect Gabriella as well as they could. Satisfied that both men would also have weapons, Peter took his leave and went to meet with Croft at their predetermined location.
Rain was falling harder than earlier in the day, impeding visibility. The carriage meandered through the winding city streets toward the bleak outskirts of the slum.
Neither Peter nor his men spoke as the carriage clattered over the uneven ground before coming to rest at a dark corner.
“We’ll walk from here,” he said, after which he told the driver, “Wait for us here. If there’s a disturbance, just continue along the street.” The coachman agreed and Peter gestured for his men to follow his lead. They fell into step beside him, their only sound the soft tread of their feet against the dirt-packed ground. Moisture filled the air, wetting the brims of their hats, the napes of their necks, and the coats they wore over their clothing.
A crow squawked nearby before flapping its wings and swooping across the alleyway to another rooftop. Shoulders hunched, Peter tried to ignore the ominous feeling the bird had evoked, and continued forward.
An old woman dressed in rags huddled against the side of a building, trying to escape the elements. Next to her sat a man. One of his legs was cut off at the knee, the other stretched out before him. A little farther along, a couple of children watched Peter’s progress. Both were dressed in shabby rags so dirty they blended with the encroaching darkness.
