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Her companion swept her bright red lips into a knowing smirk. “Coo, he is the handsome gent, aye?”

“Aye.” Maude tapped her fingertips lightly against her skirts before she crossed her arms again. “Blimey, didn’t reckon it was you in them robes, gov. Look like a proper preacher, you do.”

“Not by choice,” Shelby said.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” She exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off an old ghost. The teasing edge in her voice dulled. “Since you found me. Since you put that bastard Sykes in the ground.”

“He swung at Newgate.” Shelby clenched his jaw. “Just as he deserved.”

“Aye, he did.” A shadow glinted in her gaze, there and gone the next blink. “I never forgot. You saved my life that night. I owe you. And I always pay my debts.”

Shelby gave a small nod.

He never expected to take her up on her promise. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Figures. Blokes like you don’t come ’round unless they need somethin’.” Her jaded gaze slid to his companions, then back to him. “What do you want?”

“Would you make a discreet inquiry in The Angel Inn? We’re looking for a man named Mitchel Danforth. We believe he’s ill. He might have a mustache and a fresh scar on his face. We have reason to believe he has a rented room above the inn.”

“Leave it to us, Guv.” Maude looped her thin arm through Bess’s. “Shan’t take but a tick and a tumble.”

Winking, she flashed a flirtatious smile, then flounced away.

Shelby and his companions moved a few feet farther along the lane to observe her progress as the woman weaved through the crowded street.

Smirking, Robyn fiddled with his cassock sleeve.

“Cousin, you keep the strangest company. But I suppose that’s part of your occupation.” His expression darkened. “Though I wish you would find another besides thief catching.”

Even Robyn didn’t know Shelby had sold his house.

“I’m working on it, Robyn.”

If fortune favored Shelby, Neptune’s Providence should make port any day now. Either he would be wealthy or as poor as the hollow-cheeked, haunted-eyed wretches roaming the Dials.

“Ballocks.”

Honeybrook’s guttural expletive drew Shelby’s and Robyn’s attention.

“That is my informant, and I’d say his purse is fuller than it was this morning.” With a jerk of his chin, Honeybrook indicated a skinny runt of a man scurrying from The Angel Inn. He bobbed his head right and left like a pigeon while clutching the front of his moth-eaten coat, as if guarding the crown jewels. “God dammit, the lice-ridden, oath-breaking guttersnipe.”

A Jack-on-both-sides with pockets to line and no conscience to trouble him—not uncommon or a surprise amongst London’s underbelly.

Maude emerged from the alley and swiftly crossed the street. Moving with purpose, she didn’t spare them a glance nor slowed as she passed by. “He’s not there. But hired henchmen are, and they’re waiting for you. I sneaked out the back while Bess distracted them, but you’d best be on your way and quickly.”

Hell’s bells.

“It’s a bloody trap,” Robyn hissed between clenched teeth. He jerked his head up, his gaze locking with Shelby’s. “I would bet my best boots they wanted us away from the house, Shelby.”

Roxina!

Shelby’s blood ran cold.

That meant Desmond had discovered where she was.

How?

That didn’t matter.