Chapter 27

C hapter 27

My rapid breaths did nothing to fill my lungs as I gaped down at my sketch. It could not be. It made no sense whatsoever. Mr. Allett had no reason to—

The coach came to a jolting halt.

“Here, miss,” the jarvey called out.

But I did not move. I had to tell Nathaniel, had to tell someone. But I couldn’t. He and the other men were hidden, waiting.

What was I to do?

“Miss?” he called again.

I managed to calm my breathing. “One moment!”

Lucas Allett was somewhere nearby, waiting for me to deliver the painting. I wasn’t even sure the information I had was terribly useful—Nathaniel would catch him no matter what, surely—but if there was some small advantage to informing him and the men about who they were watching for, I had to try.

Working quickly, I scrawled Allett’s name across the bottom on the paper. I quickly folded it into a messy square and tucked it up the sleeve of my pelisse. Then, picking up the painting and tugging my hood over my eyes, I opened the door and stepped down.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” I said to the driver. “Will you wait for me, please?”

He eyed me, scratching his rough jaw. “For an extra shilling.”

“Yes, all right,” I said. “I’ll return shortly.”

I started into the park, eerily devoid of its usual occupants. The moonlight painted the landscape in silver and shadows, making the familiar unfamiliar. I located the path mentioned in the letter Elizabeth had received and followed it, keeping a close eye for the tree with a lightning scar.

I also searched surreptitiously for any sign of Nathaniel. He’d said he would be near the entrance of the park, but I saw nothing and heard no one. Wherever he and the other men were, they’d done a good job of hiding themselves.

I saw the tree when I was a hundred feet away. Its trunk was split nearly down the center, jagged edges pointing to the star-filled sky. I wrapped my arms tighter around the decoy painting and crossed the lawn, my veins pulsing with energy and awareness as I approached. I stopped before the tree, pretending a hesitation that I imagined Elizabeth might feel, then leaned the wrapped painting against the trunk.

That was it. I’d done my part.

I hurried back the way I’d come. Again, I saw no one, but I knew Nathaniel was watching. My hope was that wherever Allett was, he was now paying less attention to me and more to the painting.

Under the guise of adjusting my sleeve, I slipped my sketch free and tucked it in the palm of my hand. I looked for the best spot and found it just ahead—a bend in the path near a stand of trees and bushes. I let the folded page fall from my hand, and it landed on the grass. I did not look back as I continued toward the waiting hack. I could only hope Nathaniel had seen me drop it and was able to retrieve it behind the cover of those trees.

If not, I reassured myself, it did not matter. These men were professionals. They could handle the likes of Lucas Allett, an artist turned criminal.

At least, I hoped they could. I climbed into the hack, absently directing the jarvey back to Harwood House as my thoughts tumbled about. What did I really know about Mr. Allett, a man I’d met only twice? I’d never felt threatened in his presence, after all. He’d been all that was charming and disarming. Had it been a deception? Was his portraiture business simply a front for more lucrative—and illegal—dealings?

For a few minutes, I debated turning back. But I did not know if Allett was watching me still. I had to keep up the act, even if my heart tugged me to where Nathaniel was surely in danger.

I told the driver to stop a block from the house, paid him, and then continued on foot. I approached silently, my mind still back at the park.

Then I came to a sudden halt.

An empty carriage stood unattended right outside Harwood House, its two horses dancing anxiously. It was plain and well-used, nothing like the equipages normally used by the wealthy residents of Mayfair.

My eyes darted to the house. The white front door was open, the black gap swallowing the moonlight. Then I heard voices. A shout.

Someone was inside the house.

I immediately ducked, crouching beside the front steps. Blood pounded in my ears. It took every bit of willpower I had to stop myself from barreling inside. I did not know who was there, if they were armed, what their intentions were. I had to gather as much information as I could.

“How dare you,” came Sir Reginald’s voice, hissed as if he spoke through a clenched jaw. “How dare you come into my home and—”

“I haven’t time for this.” This voice was unsteady but familiar. Lucas Allett. “The painting. Now.”

“Give it to him,” Lady Harwood said desperately. “Let him take it.”

Allett must have a weapon. They would not sound so afraid otherwise, nor would they give in to his demands. And if he had a weapon ...

I fumbled with my reticule, my fingers ripping open the cinched top. I emptied its entire contents on the ground—my pistol, powder flask, several lead balls, and a tiny ramrod. Running around with a loaded flintlock was a quick way to lose a limb, so I hadn’t dared load my pistol beforehand. Now I wished I’d chosen the more foolish path.

“Step back now,” Allett ordered, his voice clearer. He must have the painting—his footsteps moved toward the door. “Except for you.”

A scuffle, then a small shriek from Lady Harwood. What was happening? I tried to focus. I poured a measure of powder inside the barrel, then grabbed the ramrod and a bullet.

Footsteps sounded inside the house behind me. Panic rose inside my chest. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t ready. My fingers slipped on the narrow rod as I shoved down the lead ball.

I tipped my head so I could just see the open front door, where a figure now appeared. Elizabeth. And behind her came Allett, the painting in one hand and a pistol in the other, pointed directly at my friend’s back.

He’d taken Elizabeth hostage.

“Do not send Bow Street after us,” he said over his shoulder, “or Miss Harwood here will pay the price. If we are not pursued, I shall release her when my escape is assured.”

I froze, my hands clutched around my pistol and the ramrod. Of course he would take her. Allett needed leverage, after all. He’d played all his cards by coming directly to Harwood House. If he simply ran, there would be officers after him in minutes, and his chance of escape would be slim indeed. Elizabeth was his ticket out.

I pressed my back against the side of the steps as the two of them came down to the carriage. I dared not finish loading my pistol; Allett might notice me. I heard Elizabeth’s gasped breaths and could not stop myself from glancing upward. Her face flashed white and frightened in the lamplight, and then she was gone, Allett prodding her toward the carriage.

Time came to a halt. My heart stuttered even as my thoughts crystallized. I had to stop them. I could not let him leave with Elizabeth. But how? I would only put my friend in danger if I confronted them.

With Allett’s pistol at her back, Elizabeth climbed into the carriage. He hissed something at her that my ears could not comprehend—a threat, no doubt—and slammed the door. He climbed into the driver’s seat and set the painting at his feet.

A fully formed plan leaped into my mind. It was preposterous, desperate.

I dropped the ramrod, snatched up my powder flask again, and dumped a small amount into the pan, snapping the frizzen into place. My motions were suddenly smooth and confident. I had no other choice. Because I knew what I had to do.

Allett took the reins and whipped them against the horses’ backs. The carriage jolted forward, rattling past me on the cobblestones. Pistol in one hand, I took a step, two, then I was darting forward. It would never work. It couldn’t work. The rear of the carriage was just a few feet from me now, and its pace quickened with every second. I took a running step and lunged, catching the handle on the rear and pulling myself up to the small seat where a servant might have ridden. The carriage lurched slightly under my weight, but the left wheel hit a rut at the same moment, and we dipped together. I ducked, praying Allett hadn’t noticed. But the carriage continued, faster and faster, and no shouts came from the driver’s seat.

Allett directed the carriage through the streets of London. I kept my head bowed, though I peeked up every now and again to get my bearings. We soon left Mayfair and crossed through Covent Garden. I spotted the facade of the Theatre Royal, still lit at this late hour. Mama had likely already returned home after her performance and was wondering where I was.

I hoped I would have the chance to tell her.

The lights of the theatre faded away, and Allett pushed the horses, only slowing to make turns. I tried to imagine what Elizabeth was feeling inside the carriage. Would she try to escape? I did not think so. Not with Rose depending on her. Elizabeth would do everything possible to return to her daughter.

Eventually, we made our way onto a street running alongside the Thames. I could see the moon and stars glittering on the surface of the river, wide and dark. We traveled for twenty minutes or so, my back aching from my awkward crouch behind the carriage. When I felt the carriage slow beneath me, I stiffened.

We came to a stop, and my stomach jolted along with the carriage as Allett alighted from the high step, his boots just visible through the spokes of the back wheel. He opened the carriage door.

“Come along, Miss Harwood,” he said, his voice like ice.

“I won’t go with you,” she said, and pride welled in my chest for my friend. I knew she was terrified, yet she defied him. “You’ve escaped. You don’t need me now.”

“I will decide that.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her down to the street. He tucked the painting under his arm, then grabbed an overstuffed valise from the floor of the carriage. Of course he’d packed for a quick escape. One did not return to normal life after accosting a baronet and his family in their own home. But why had he done it? He’d gotten the painting, but he’d ruined his future. He could never return to the comfortable life he’d had before, painting the elect of high Society. All for one painting. How could that be worth sacrificing everything ?

They walked toward the glistening waters of the Thames, Allett once again pointing his pistol at Elizabeth’s back. I peered around the carriage after them. He did not seem at all concerned about abandoning his horses and carriage, indicating he must have a second method of transportation.

I eased myself down from my tiny seat and took in my surroundings. Masts and sails filled the night sky around me, the hulls of ships bobbing in the Thames’s current. I stood among the Wapping docks now abandoned by its workers for mugs of ale or warm beds. Nathaniel and I had come here only a few days ago to search for Higgs. Was it a coincidence?

I did not have time to wonder. Allett and Elizabeth were vanishing into the dark. I secured my hood around my face once more and started after them, keeping to the shadows alongside the buildings.

Allett glanced back every minute or so, and I folded myself into ill-lit doorways and corners, evading his searching eyes. Finally, he paused, head turning to ensure no one was watching, then guided Elizabeth down a set of stairs.

I crept after them, keeping low until I reached the stairs. They led down to a dock with a few berths. The boats here were smaller, with single masts and narrow hulls. My heart pattered faster. Was this how he planned to leave London?

Allett moved Elizabeth along the short dock until they reached a square-sterned wherry. He tried to urge her inside, but she balked, backing away. A not-so-gentle nudging with his pistol made her step from the dock down into the boat.

I carefully made my way down the stairs, pressing myself to the rough stone at my back. Was this Allett’s boat? Or was he stealing one?

It did not matter; my object was the same. I had to stop him. Once he fled on the river, we could lose his trail—and Elizabeth’s. He might land anywhere along the Thames or even escape to the sea and beyond.

I held my pistol carefully in both hands as I moved along the dock, pausing behind the boat that swayed between me and Allett’s. I peeked around the side. There was movement aboard the wherry—he was tying Elizabeth’s hands. I had to surprise him now, while he was distracted.

I darted forward. Allett was crouched before Elizabeth, tightening a knot around her wrists, but at my footsteps, he spun. Before he could do anything, my pistol was leveled directly at his chest.

“Don’t. Move.” My voice was a sharpened edge, a dagger in the night.

Allett blinked as though he thought me an apparition. “Miss Travers,” he said in disbelief. “How ... ?” Then focus found his eyes again, and he shook his head. “I never thought to see you again.”

“Then perhaps you should reconsider your current line of employment.” I took one step closer, my pistol steady. “I am not one to let thieves go free.”

My eyes flicked to Elizabeth. She watched the exchange with wide eyes, her golden curls trailing over her shoulders. She’d been gagged, a handkerchief pulled tight across her mouth.

Allett gave a hard laugh. “I am no thief .”

Every thief had a plea of innocence on their lips. “Then I suppose you are going to deny that you currently possess a valuable painting owned by Sir Reginald Harwood?”

“I don’t deny that I have it,” he said, his blazing eyes catching the moonlight. “But The Woman in Red does not belong to him.”

What on earth was he talking about? But it did not matter. He was at my mercy. I knew the Thames River Police had a station near the Wapping New Stairs, not far from here. Elizabeth and I could walk him there through the docks, but it wasn’t ideal. I would feel much better if his hands were restrained. I did not know where he’d stowed his pistol.

“Throw your pistol onto the dock,” I ordered Allett. “And untie Miss Harwood.” I would use the rope to bind him.

“I’m afraid I have no intention of obeying you, Miss Travers,” he said evenly. “Though I applaud your efforts.”

“I know how to use this pistol,” I said, my voice hard.

“Yes,” he said. “I am sure you are quite proficient. Only, I don’t think you’ll be holding it much longer.”

Elizabeth stiffened and shouted against her gag. A warning.

A shadow rushed at me from my right. I swung my weapon around. My brain had only a half second to recognize the threat—a large man, menace in his eyes—before I acted.

I pulled the trigger.