She didn’t answer. Her gaze said,Rebellion.
He edged to the door. “Nothing reckless. Stay safe. Keep our daughter safe. Hide in the mews. If they take me, go to Repington. No one would dare come at him.”
“But, Daniel.”
“Hope’s papa will not be gone.”
Jemina released him. She may have even whispered, “Take care.”
He couldn’t quite hear. The fury building in his chest, the need to punch at something, was ready to explode. He’d strike down as many runners as he could before they dragged him off to Newgate Prison.
When the carriage reached Finchely’s door, he leaped out like all was normal with his hat and gloves. “Mr. Anthon, take my carriage to the mews. Stay there.”
The young man looked as if he wanted to jump down and fight, but he’d not disobey an order. He kept the vehicle moving. No wife jumped out. Maybe both would listen.
The Lord Mayor’s gold crest gleamed with the torch light like it was freshly polished.
No Thackery had actually been an inmate in Newgate.
Would Daniel be the first?
Then he remembered who he was, a peer, a lover of the law, a husband and father who needed to come home each night to his family.
He powered inside Finchely, past a fretful-looking Mrs. Gallick. She wrung her hands on her wrinkled white apron.
He handed her his hat. “Where are they?”
“The study, sir.”
The noise of doors opening and closing sounded above.
“The runners, sir,” she said in a whisper.
Runners ransacking his Finchely, the place where his family lived.
Daniel stormed the threshold of his study.
Lord Mayor stood near the hearth, enjoying a glass of the brandy Daniel kept for show.
A little balding man sat on a chair while Max growled.
“Lord Mayor,” Daniel said, “what is occurring? Why have you invaded my Finchely?”
“Ashbrook, this gentleman has come with some shocking charges.”
“Who, Lord Mayor?”
“I’m Mr. Mosey, Lord Ashbrook. I’ve been writing to you on a pressing matter for the St. Maurs.”
When the fool tried to come closer, Max growled. The pug who was never violent looked as if he’d eat a liver, Mosey’s.
The sniveling man patted his forehead with a handkerchief. “I received word that you were harboring women, women of diminished capacity here at this remote location. I demanded the Lord Mayor investigate.”
“What?” Daniel laughed, something dry and haughty. “Lord Mayor, you let a worm demand you do something?”
The head jurist of the Old Bailey cut his eyes at Mosey. “He brought me evidence that looks horrid.”
“Horrid? What can this man who has consistently written to harass my wife possibly have to say against me? Must be good lies to manipulate the Lord Mayor and make him a whipping boy.”
