Chapter Twenty-Four

C hapter T wenty - F our

T he picture was an extraordinary likeness. Hal had really outdone herself, and he could tell that she had put a lot of effort into the piece. Hunter hadn't been entirely certain he was pleased to have it when it arrived, but considering how often he had looked at it since, he decided he was grateful.

A picture of Lucy would be all he ever had of her, and Hal's drawings from her own memory were always exact. It was one of the quirks of her mind and memories, and one of the things that made her an exceptional asset and operative, when she was called up.

Hunter stared at the picture of Lucy now, his eyes tracing over the curve of her cheek and remembering the perfect texture of her skin against his fingertips. The gentle friction of her lips against his, and the sweet, intoxicating taste of her. The curve of her smile and the sound of her laughter.

She invaded every one of his thoughts and every single dream. How he'd been able to accomplish anything in the days since she'd been gone was incredible, but he had managed some progress, he was pleased to say. So long as he gave himself moments like these where he could allow himself to remember, reflect, and dwell on her and his time with her, he found it easier to move forward in other things.

Footsteps were approaching his table, so he folded the drawing again and shoved it inside his shirt. He'd been here too long, and he needed to move on. He reached for his coat behind him and shrugged into it, another paper falling out of the pocket.

Cursing, he reached for it, but someone else picked it up first. He straightened and smiled into the face of the proprietor, St. John, as he unfolded it and stared at the drawing.

"Friend of yours?" St. John asked as he turned it for Hunter to see.

It was one of the copies of Allred's likeness, and Hunter shrugged. "Somebody I was trying to find a few days ago."

"He was here a few weeks back."

Hunter paused in the action of straightening his coat. "Get a name?" he asked carefully.

"Smith," St. John replied with a snort, rolling his eyes. "Clearly not his real name. He was with the ginger lad who swept me of three hundred two weeks later. Intense conversation they had, asked for my best whiskey. Then they were at hazard the rest of the night, and both did well. Haven't seen Smith again, but obviously, we've seen the other."

Allred knew Martin? That wasn't at all what Hunter had expected, and certainly not what he wanted to hear.

He forced his expression to be fairly easy and nonchalant in spite of his tightening chest. "Well, I'm still looking for him, so if you see Smith back here, let me know. I presume you know how to find me."

St. John nodded and handed the picture back. "Sure do. Good night, Jones."

Hunter tapped the brim of his cap and headed for the door, pausing just outside to pull out a cigar and chat with Skips. "Seen anything good?"

"Naw," he replied, spitting to one side. "Got sommat for you though. Word just came to me. Dawn, whatever that means."

The cigar dropped to the floor and Hunter looked at Skips with wide eyes, his extremities going cold. "What did you say?"

Skips raised a brow. "Dawn. One of Gent's brats said so."

Hunter cursed and strode for the door. "Round 'em up, Skips. Send them to the old place."

"Aye, sir," he called after him, though Hunter didn't care.

Lucy was in trouble. Everything else could burn in the hedgerow, including Martin. And he was not about to run to Camden Town from where he was.

He whistled at an approaching hack, the driver seeming irritated to be called upon. "Get me to Camden Town as fast as you can, and I'll pay you double the usual."

That brightened the driver considerably, and he snapped the reins before Hunter had even sat down.

His heart was pounding furiously against every single rib, and a burning sensation was invading his face and his legs. What sort of danger was he running into? What did Lucy need? What resources would he need to call upon?

Had he been too hasty to ask Skips to call the League up to meet him?

No, he assured himself. No, if Allred knew Martin, then even if Lucy's need was manageable, there was at least something to investigate.

But he had this horrible, sinking feeling that Pond wouldn't have called for him unless things were dire.

The driver was clearly taking Hunter at his word, for Camden Town was upon them quickly, and Hunter told him the address, arriving there only moments later. He jumped from the hack before it came to a full stop and thrust several coins at him, grateful he'd won a little at the tables that night.

Then Hunter headed directly for the door and pounded furiously. It opened at once and Pond stood there, his expression gaunt.

"What happened?" Hunter demanded.

Pond stood back. "You'd better come inside, sir."

Dread licked at Hunter's feet as he did so, walking into the threadbare sitting room just to the left. A balding man sat in a chair before the fire, his head in his hands.

Hunter looked back at Pond, who cleared his throat. "Sir, this is Trick. He helped your daughter after… he returned her home, sir."

Mr. Allred's head rose, and he turned to look at Hunter, the present lines in his face making him seem older than he really was. "So. You're the reason this plan has gone to hell."

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Hunter asked, not bothering to hide his ire.

Mr. Allred waved his hand, gesturing for him to come farther into the room. "I've sold my soul, and the devil has collected. If you hadn't intervened, it might have worked, but you're clearly a good sort, so why should you be blamed?"

Hunter stared at the man, then glanced back at Pond, who only shook his head. Curious and fighting anger, Hunter moved to sit on the chair nearest Allred. "Tell me from the beginning, sir, and tell me what has happened to Lucy."

Allred began to speak, his voice hollow and hoarse. "I have debts that cannot be easily resolved. Years worth. And I get myself deeper and deeper into it. I knew I needed to reduce expenditures, and a man approached me after a poor night at the tables. He offered me this house in Camden Town for retrenchment and said he could help me to regain my footing, for a price."

"Always for a price," Hunter muttered.

"The price," Allred went on, "was my daughter. Not in a salacious manner, I am not so villainous. If I would live in this house, if I would do what they ask, my debts would be paid by an anonymous benefactor, and my daughter would be engaged to a Mr. Bichard. Half-English, half-French, very wealthy, and looking to appear in London Society soon. It was so easy, what could be the problem?"

Hunter narrowed his eyes. "But?"

Allred closed his eyes. "But… I knew Lucy would not wish to marry a man against her will, and my reputation as a wastrel is well known. So my task was to arrange for an abduction. I would appear to pay a ransom, proving my daughter is more valuable than my gaming, and I would once more be respectable. Then Mr. Bichard would appear to be the man who had provided the assistance whereby my daughter was saved, and the marriage would make sense to all. Even to Lucy."

That wouldn't have worked for Lucy, Hunter considered with a soft snort. Just because someone did something noble did not mean…

But that was precisely how Hunter had met her. He had done something noble, and they had spent three days together and fallen in love. There was no telling if Bichard would have held any sort of sway over her, if he had any charm or redeemable qualities, but if he was part of the Faction, which was what it sounded like…

Could Lucy have loved that man the way Hunter hoped she loved him?

"So when I foiled your attempt…?" he pressed.

"Well, I did not know you had, at first," Allred admitted. "When Lucy did not arrive here, I presumed all had gone off well. But then I had no word of her from the abductors, no contact telling me to move forward with the next phase of the plan. I went out to the clubs to try and meet with my contact, but no one ever appeared, and no word of Lucy ever reached me. I dared not involve Bow Street, considering my own involvement, and with what was at stake… but then word reached me that they did not have her, and the next morning she arrived at my door."

Hunter sat back, shaking his head. "So you arranged for another go."

"No!" Allred protested loudly, his voice cracking. "No, I was told that because I had failed, they would be taking matters into their own hands. I have no idea who has taken Lucy or where they have gone. I don't know if I will be getting the prearranged instructions from the last plan or if I have been completely cut out. I don't know if my debts will be repaid in full, or only the ones they've already matched in good faith. They might ruin me as well as make off with my daughter, and I don't know what to do anymore."

"It sounds as though you didn't know what to do in the first place," Hunter suggested darkly. "To use your daughter as a pawn in your own financial redemption? You have no idea how I debated not returning Lucy to you, even without knowing that much. I knew you had no care or concern for her as a father ought, but I had no idea your disgusting indifference extended this far."

Allred shoved to his feet. "I care for my daughter!" he roared.

Hunter slowly rose, towering over the man and looking down at him coldly. "Do you? We searched for you for three days, and no one had ever heard of you. No one was looking for Lucy. She was in the worst possible parts of London, and you weren't looking."

Allred blanched. "I told you why—"

"You gave me an excuse," Hunter interrupted harshly. "A real father would have torn London apart for his daughter. But then, a real father wouldn't have put her in that position, would he?" Making a sound of disgust, Hunter strode away. "I will find your daughter, Mr. Allred, and then you and I are going to talk about her future."

"You think you can tell me what to do with my daughter?" Allred called after him.

Hunter stopped and looked over his shoulder at him. "No, sir. I think your daughter will choose her future, and you and I will decide how we make that happen." He looked at Pond and gestured for him to follow. "Tell me what we know."

Pond gave him all the details he could about Lucy's abduction, which wasn't much, other than that the men knew the house and the exits. Once Hunter stepped outside, a boy of perhaps twelve was waiting for him.

"And what did you see?" Hunter asked the boy, nodding in the direction they would be walking.

"Two men had the lady bound by hands and feet, gagged," he immediately replied. "They tossed her in the back of a wagon, strapped down the canvas might tight, and went out onto the high street. I tracked 'em as far as I could, 'til they went across the river."

Hunter nodded and handed three coins to the boy. "Many thanks."

"Once you cross the river," the boy went on, surprising him, "ask for Charlie. He watches the bridges sometimes."

"Again, thank you." Hunter winked and gestured for him to leave, which he did, scampering the way boys of the street always seemed to, no matter the time of night.

Hunter's mind spun on the details he had learned, and he forced the emotion of Allred's revelations to the back of his mind. He could not go into this rescue mission with emotion at the forefront if he wanted to do it right. His biggest consolation was that it did not seem as though the Faction would want Lucy harmed. They wanted her connection to a desperate man for whomever Bichard was, if that was his true name.

Also to their advantage, they did not know that Lucy had connections in the covert-operative world, and that one of them in particular was rather passionate about her safety and security. Not to mention her marital state.

But that was slightly beside the point.

Slightly.

Hunter rounded a corner and reached the site of the old London League office, only to find the entire League waiting for him already. Even Cap had shown up, and he was usually more of an administrator these days.

"Skips is getting better than I thought," Hunter mused as he approached, shaking hands with all of them.

Gent grinned at him. "I may have intercepted my eyes on his way to report. Did my own gathering, spread the word, the usual."

"So, all of London knows now," Rogue assured Hunter in his usual rough manner, though his eyes glinted.

Hunter shook his head, exhaling. "Thank you. All of you. Normally, I don't call upon anyone else for anything, but this…"

"We'll fight for Dawn," Trace assured him, crooked smile in place. "Nice code, by the way."

"Why are you being the cheeky one?" Rook demanded, whacking Trace on the arm. "That is literally my one job in this group."

Cap looked heavenward, shaking his head. "Why did I pair them together?"

"We tried to warn you," Rogue and Gent said in unison.

Hunter chuckled and put his hands on his hips. "So, here's what I know." He gave them the quick rundown of Allred's part in the plot, which elicited some colorful responses from the men, and about what Gent's child spy had told him.

"I took the liberty of sending one of my contacts to Briar," Trace told him when he finished. "Gent mentioned across the river, so I thought we'd get ahead of it."

"And one of my other children is looking for Charlie," Gent added quickly. "He's not one of mine, he's in with Iris."

Hunter made a face. Iris was far more prickly than her name, which made him wonder why Iris was Iris and Briar was Briar, but he wasn't about to argue the names of the Convent agents. "Lovely. Think she'll share?"

"Damsel in distress? Oh, she'll share." Gent laughed once. "If we don't get going, she might go on in there herself. And you know Iris, she doesn't leave witnesses or take prisoners."

"Yeesh." Rook made a face. "We'd better go, then."

The group of them quietly made their way towards the river and the bridges there, and Rook sidled up to Hunter as they walked. "You know, we did something like this for Trace."

Hunter found himself smiling a little. "I heard about that. Sounded like fun."

"Oh, it was," Rook answered with a dark chuckle. "I spoke to my brother yesterday."

"Any news from his quarter?" Hunter asked with mild interest.

Rook cursed again. "I knew it. I knew they told you first."

Hunter patted his arm soothingly. "She's my twin, Rook. That trumps brothers."

"Helen will have my head for letting her hear about it through a letter, but I don't know when I'm going to get up there." He sighed, and Hunter glanced at him, seeing the strain in the usually jaunty man's face.

"Hiding not going well?" Hunter asked.

Rook made a face. "No, it's going fine. I just hate it. She hasn't been there long, but it feels like ages. And who knows how long it'll be? The sooner we secure the League and the leaks, the sooner we can all live relatively normal lives again."

Hunter thought on that a moment, then asked, "Is it worth the complication? The marriage while being an operative, I mean."

"If you do it correctly, I suppose." Rook smiled a little. "My wife is a trifle insistent on some things, and I just cannot tell her everything, but that's the only frustration we face. And there is a certain sweetness in our time together when we know that it can be snatched away at any moment. I won't pretend it isn't easier to be unattached as an operative, but once Helen crossed my path, I couldn't be the operative I was without her in my life. I wasn't the same man anymore, and the man I had become needed her."

"Incoming," Cap murmured from the back, silencing the entire group.

They were nearing the end of the bridge, and a dark figure was approaching, fully cloaked, and a few others stood at the base of the bridge, apparently waiting.

The figure drew back the hood, and a collective groan rose from the group.

"Iris," Rook whined, not bothering to hide the plaintive note in his voice. "We've got this!"

Iris, perhaps forty years of age, with wild, dark curls that never managed to be confined, skewered Rook with a superior look. "One of the Convent teachers is taken, and you think this is something for you to handle?"

Rook pointed at Hunter. "He was the one who was suspicious of her home. His claim!"

"Our school." She quirked a brow, daring another response.

Cap heaved a sigh. "We'll work together and get this done quickly and with the least amount of fuss."

Rogue snorted softly. "We're going to overrun them."

Iris grinned in a rather menacing manner. "And the problem there is?"

Hunter found himself smiling at her in response. "It's been a long time, Iris. I've always enjoyed your enthusiasm."

"Nice to see you too, Trick," she replied with a nod. "Shall we?"

They all moved to join her group of Convent agents waiting at the base of the bridge and began plotting together. From what Iris and Briar had put together, Lucy had been taken to a small warehouse on a quieter dock, and only three figures had entered since those from the wagon had arrived. According to reports, this was not a regular warehouse used by their contacts for deliveries, and thus did not contain the usual stock of brandy or weapons and the like.

Minimal items within meant not a lot of cover for them, which could be a problem if they needed to ambush the group.

"What is this dock used for if not their usual drops?" Hunter asked Briar as she crouched beside him at the next dock over.

"Normally, it ferries between Brittany and the Channel Islands," she told him with a thoughtful expression. "Next ship is due in the morning, but what in the world would they be wanting with that?"

Hunter suddenly glared at the building, something feral snarling to life within him. "They're planning on marrying her off to one of theirs who wants an entrance into Society."

"They're doing what?" at least three people asked, both men and women.

Hunter nodded. "They're going ahead with the plan and cutting Allred out of it. He was desperate enough to give them Lucy before, but he was just a complication to them, so now they've taken it into their own hands. Lucy's family name is respectable enough, but she has no fortune. Bichard apparently has plenty of money but needs a ticket into Society. Lucy's beauty and respectability provide exactly what he needs. What they need."

"They wanted my wife for her money," Gent pointed out from his place against the wall. "Now they have money and want connection. What are they playing at?"

"Why don't we analyze later and get our girl out now, eh?" Trace asked, fingering the knives at his belt.

Hunter nodded in agreement. "As soon as Fern gets back with her perimeter report."

It was only a few minutes more before Fern reappeared, her dark clothing and cape rendering her practically invisible in the night. She crouched down and dropped her hood, grinning widely.

"What?" Rook asked warily, rearing back just a touch.

"Clearly, they don't think Dawn will be missed," Fern told them, almost gushing with pride. She tucked a tendril of auburn hair behind her ear. "There is nothing resembling guards or defenses. Not a lick. No guns, no watch, nothing. Two, perhaps three guards within, but nothing without."

Rook blinked and looked at Hunter in disappointment. "This is going to be the most boring rescue I have ever been part of."

Hunter gave him a sardonic look. "Terribly sorry, old sport. Would you like to go home?"

"No, no, I'm just readjusting my expectations," he retorted. "Give me a moment." He closed his eyes as though actively rearranging some furniture in his mind.

Hunter blinked and looked beyond him to Trace, who rolled his eyes. "He does this," Trace told him in a stage whisper. "It's fine."

"Having a thought," Iris offered from Hunter's left, ignoring Rook's bizarre behavior. "What if the League takes the west door and we take the east? Trick, you're still our deepest cover, so let us be the faces. You can come in after and get Dawn, but let's keep you secret as long as possible."

That wasn't exactly what Hunter wanted to hear. He wanted to barge in and take out as many people as he possibly could. He wanted to rage and roar and show these blackguards what he was capable of for stealing his woman. It was his honor to do so, and a matter of personal duty.

But for his professional duty… and to protect Lucy even further…

Yes, it might make the most sense for others to lead the charge and for him to take care of the most precious portion of the mission.

"I can support that," Cap murmured from his place near Gent. "And I believe the Shopkeepers would appreciate that discretion."

Resigned, Hunter nodded and bit back a snarl of his own disappointment. Then he found himself looking at Rook, whose smirk was smug enough to say all that needed to be said.

"Right, then," Trace said, rubbing his hands together. "Shall we make this prompt and move in at the stroke of one?"

Iris nodded and started backing away with her crew. "Perfect. Taking prisoners?"

"Please," Cap affirmed with pristine politeness. "Any information is useful at this point."

"More's the pity, but as you wish." Iris nodded once and whistled, her small but mighty band following her into the night, heading for the eastern side of the building.

The men looked at Cap, who was eyeing the building. "Trace and Rogue, lead the charge. Rook and Gent, follow behind and take care of accessories. Trick, I'll accompany you and cover whatever is needed to get you and Dawn out of the building while they are occupied. If Iris wants to take the prisoners in, let her. If she prefers us, fine."

He looked at Hunter then, every inch the military man he had once been. "Where do you want to take Dawn after this? Her home?"

"Hell no," Hunter spat. "I need a more secure location. Hal's, I think."

All of them grinned at that. "Excellent," Rook chuckled, nodding in approval.

"We'll meet there to debrief," Cap told them. "Gent, can one of your children get word to Hal and let her know we're coming?"

Gent nodded once before whistling. A young lad appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Charlie," Gent greeted. "Can you cross over and tell Paul to go to Sketch and make a point?"

Charlie nodded but held out a hand expectantly.

Sighing, Gent reached into his pocket and dropped two coins in his palm. "Thank you."

Charlie dashed off at once, making almost no noise as he did so.

"Oh, the inconvenience of the south side of the Thames," Rogue teased with a snort.

Gent ignored him and looked at Cap, waiting for the next orders.

Cap nodded once. "Let's go."