Page 42 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

The girl nodded. “They was chasin’ a man—”

“They? Was a dark-haired man with him?”

Sally nodded. “That’s him. I seen him on the docks afore. They chased this tall skinny fella into a place in Cheapside, and I waited, but they never come out. It’s a bad place, miss, and gents like that... I don’t know. I went in and couldn’t see ’em. I think... I think they went down in the tunnels.”

“That bloody—” Verity broke off. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Which one, miss?”

“Both of them,” Verity replied grimly.

“I left Ned there, ’case they come back out.”

“Good girl. Climb up there and tell the driver where to go.” Verity helped Sally clamber up to the coachman’s seat, then jumped into the carriage herself. It took off with a lurch.

Annabeth, who had been watching the scene with her head out the window, said, “What’s going on? I couldn’t hear all of what she was saying.”

“In short, Nathan and Sloane are fools, and they’ve wound up in a tunnel in Cheapside, and who knows what’s happened to them. Of all the stupid things—” Verity broke off, then began to relate in a calmer voice everything Sally had told her.

“But why were they following this man? Is it Douglas?”

Verity shook her head. “I think it’s perhaps one of the men who attacked us.” At Annabeth’s alarmed exclamation at that statement, Verity went on to explain what had happened the evening before. As she talked, Verity pulled a pistol case out from a side pocket of the carriage and began to load it.

Annabeth settled back against the cushions of the carriage, looking somewhat stunned. “Well...Nathan’s life has certainly taken a new turn.”

“Yes. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let him help me with the case.” Verity sighed. “Well, at least he has Sloane with him, thank heavens.”

Annabeth sent her a wry look. “Yes. Because we all know how cautious and peace-loving Sloane is.”

Verity looked at her for a moment, then leaned out the window and called, “Drive faster, Russell.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NATHAN SET THE long block of stone on the base they had made and pushed it into place in the center, flush against another stone. He straightened up, stretching his back, and wiped his hand across his forehead. Though it was cool in this cave-like place, the exertion of carrying stones and fitting them together had made him sweat. He, like Sloane, had long ago discarded his jacket, waistcoat, and neckcloth, rolled up his sleeves and undone the ties of his shirt. But none of it was enough to make him cool; his thin lawn shirt was plastered to his chest and sweat ran down his face, smearing the dirt and grime that covered it.

Sloane, too, stood looking at the pile of stone before them, his hands on his hips, and it made Nathan feel somewhat better that the other man looked as weary and discouraged as Nathan felt.

From above them came a woman’s voice. “Hello, lads. Need some help?”

“Verity!” Nathan’s head snapped up and he saw Verity lying at the edge of the hole, braced on her elbows. His intense relief was overwhelmed by the fear that stabbed through him. “Get back! That floor just caved in on us.”

“I can see that. But here it’s still solid rock beneath me. I just leaned over and looked.” She twisted and spoke to someone behind her, then disappeared for a moment.

Nathan’s heart slowed down a notch, though it still made him cringe to think of Verity climbing out there to look over. Verity returned with a lantern, holding it out to shed light on the men below. With the lantern’s light, he could see that Annabeth’s face appeared beside Verity’s.

“Annabeth!” Sloane thundered, scowling. “What the devil are you doing here? Good God, did you climb down that ladder? Have you taken leave of your senses?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “I’m with child, Sloane, not on my deathbed. And I must say, I would think you two would be a little more glad to see us.”

“Of course we’re glad to see you,” Nathan protested. “It’s just...” Verity, he knew, could handle herself, but not if there were more than several attackers to fight off. A very pregnant Annabeth would be of little help—not that he was foolish enough to tell her that.

Sloane, however, had no such reticence. “It’s dangerous. God knows what sort of villain you’re liable to run into here. They aren’t going to back off because you’re pregnant.”

“That’s why I have this.” Annabeth held up a pistol.

“God save us,” Sloane groaned.

Nathan sympathized with Sloane, but he had to stifle a little laugh.