Chapter 4

Chapter Four

“ A nd you are sure this is where I might find him?” Alexander asked Horace, looking down at the words on the parchment before him.

“According to the patrons ‘round here, yes,” Horace answered. His voice battled with his common accent and the more formal speech he had picked up over time as the manager of the Raven’s Den.

They were sat in Horace’s office, the gambling hall alive with activity in the levels below.

Two days of searching for Lord Kinsfeld had turned up fruitless, even after interrogating his wife, Lady Kinsfeld.

Lady Kinsfeld , he thought, running his mind over her name once again, as he’d found himself doing in the two days since.

He shoved back thoughts of the beautiful, blonde woman he had met in the dark shadows of her parlor, and returned his attention to the regrettable thought of her husband.

“Your thoughts seem elsewhere, Your Grace,” Horace noted.

“No, it is simply…” Alexander sighed. “And do call me Alexander. You do not work in my father’s stables any longer. We are business partners here, my friend.”

“Friend,” Horace laughed. “You rarely have friends.”

Alexander met the older man’s smile with one of his own—wearier, despite his younger age.

“Count yourself lucky then.”

The older man laughed.

“I visited Lady Kinsfeld,” Alexander said quietly. “And she did not know where Lord Kinsfeld is.”

“It is not uncommon, unfortunately,” Horace considered. “After all, we know the man has frequented our rooms here, indulging himself.”

Alexander sighed, his gut twisted. “She looked…”

He stopped himself, not wanting to dishonor her by saying Lady Kinsfeld had looked lonely.

Yet she had. Part of him thought she was the type of woman to despise being described in such a way.

“She was stubborn,” he only said.

“And beautiful, I hear,” Horace responded.

“I did not notice,” he lied.

Horace snorted. “Of course you did not.”

Alexander got to his feet, snatching up the list of places to investigate, ignoring the discussion on Lady Kinsfeld. The less he thought of her, the better.

“I will continue searching for the earl. Meanwhile, dispatch another collector to his house. If he was not there at night, I do not think he will be there by day, but we can try again. London is a big city, and lords with secrets have ways of slipping through the cracks when they want to.”

“He’ll be found. The thing about cracks, though, Your Grace, is that they all lead somewhere. If anyone can find him, I imagine you will.”

Following the word of patrons in the Raven’s Den could be tricky but it was all Alexander had to go on.

The first place he investigated was an exclusive gentleman’s club.

“The Duke of Silverton, on my doorstep,” the manager, Mr. Thompson, said, surprised. “To what do I owe the honor, Your Grace?”

Alexander looked inside the club, at the cloakroom to one side, and the doors beyond, where patrons would be indulging and socializing. “May we speak in your office?”

“Of course. If you’d follow me, Your Grace.”

He was led through to Mr. Thompson’s office, and the door closed behind him.

The two men sat either side of a large desk.

“Can I offer you a drink, Your Grace?”

“I will not be staying long, I have much to do,” Alexander leaned forward, “I am looking for a patron of the Raven’s Den, Lord Kinsfeld. I need to… warn him. About a rather serious matter.”

Mr. Thompson sighed as soon as the man’s title was mentioned.

“Ah, yes, Lord Kinsfeld. As it happens, there are many unpaid bar tabs from him, gambling debts he has accrued here, as well as loans from other patrons of the club. If you locate him, Your Grace, would you be so kind as to bring this serious matter to his attention as well?”

Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose but nodded sharply. “I will find him, Mr. Thompson, and ensure the debt he owes to you is also honored.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, that is greatly appreciated. Is there anything else I can do for you? I am sorry I could not be of service.”

Alexander shook his head sharply, rising to stand. “No, Mr. Thompson. That is all.”

“You may wish to try the Clover. It is a… it’s not so fine an establishment, shall we say? It’s a bit further out, of course, for you would not want lords mixing with the sort that frequent those places. I believe Lord Kinsfeld tends to escape there when I have him escorted from the club.”

“Very well. I shall check there. Thank you, Mr. Thompson.”

At the Clover, Alexander asked around for Lord Kinsfeld, growing more and more furious at the man’s ability to evade all pursuit.

From drunken patrons of the tavern, to the more sober, refined drinkers in the furthest corners, nobody had heard a murmur from Kinsfeld—and Alexander quickly found that the man owed money to many places, and many men.

That is now three establishments with financial quarrels with the man , Alexander thought, increasingly annoyed.

More men suggested places to look, and Alexander swore that he would not rest until he’d dragged Lord Kinsfeld by the collar out of the hole he was in.

“Try Mr. Santon over there,” one patron laughed, pointing to a shadowy corner where a man nursed his drink, his eyes tired yet paranoid, flickering around the room. “He might know a thing or two. Same crowds, if you understand.”

Alexander approached the man’s table, unsurprised when Mr. Santon tried to flee at the sight of him.

Alexander sighed, letting him scramble away, letting him think he had a chance, only to walk out and find the man stumbling his way down an alley.

Alexander had him by the collar, pinned to the grimy wall of the alley within seconds.

“Please,” Mr. Santon mumbled. “Please—do not hurt me! I—I can pay! That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

Alexander cocked his head, his fist around the man’s collar pushing deeper into his throat. “Lord Kinsfeld. Where is he?”

“I do not know!”

“I believe you do.”

“I don’t—” The man stopped at Alexander’s harder press into his throat. “All right!” he cried. “I do have something, but—but the information does not come free.”

“You wish to strike a financial deal with a duke, when you are already piled with debt?”

“I—Your Grace.” The man paled. “Perhaps we can make an arrangement? Your connections can ensure I could pay smaller amounts of my debt rather than in full. If you help me, I can help you.”

“No,” Alexander’s fist pressed to his throat hard enough that the man’s face began to turn pink. “Tell me where I can find Lord Kinsfeld, and I will consider not turning you into the authorities.”

“All right, all right. I—I saw him meeting with a woman. It was near the Golden Hand. Perhaps a mistress but that is all I know, I swear!”

Alexander released him. The Golden Hand was on his list of places to investigate. It seemed promising.

And a mistress…

Kinsfeld had frequented the more suggestive alcoves and rooms in the Raven’s Den. Why would he not go further and appoint a proper mistress to appease, when other ladies were not available or sufficient?

Briefly, he thought of Lady Kinsfeld, and then a second thought followed, unbidden.

How could he avert his gaze from a woman like his wife?

“So, you will help me?” Mr. Santon asked hopefully.

Alexander glared at him.

“As I already told you, no . However, Mr. Santon, I do recommend you stop your gambling habits or you will find yourself regretting it.”

Alexander stepped closer, tightening his hold. “A duke’s threats are not to be taken lightly, do you not know?” He cocked his head, refusing to break the man’s stare. “Now, get out of my sight.”

He released him, and heard the scrabble of the man’s boots on the cobbles, and heard the gratitude of Mr. Santon having been released..

Alexander headed in the other direction. He had bigger things to deal with than another low-life. The Golden Hand wasn’t far from his own gambling hall, another well-known one, perhaps second or third to the Raven’s Den.

If he had more answers to find, they would be there.