Chapter Thirty-Seven

"I 've not been told of any plans, Hound," Stavers insisted. "I can't imagine what they're thinking."

"They, wrongheadedly, are thinking they can handle this on their own," Vincent said, sounding impossibly weary for once.

"When I get my hands on her—" Joss didn't finish the statement. He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Stavers opened it to find a footman there with a silver tray.

"Two letters have arrived for you, Mr. Stavers. The messengers said they were both quite urgent."

Stavers took the missives and sent the servant on his way. He opened the first one, scanned it, and frowned. The second one only deepened the lines that crossed his forehead and made his scowl even more fearsome. "You'd be right on that score. They're headed for the Ernsdale house to meet with Simon Dagliesh."

"And the other note?" Vincent asked.

"Jack Collinsworth thinks he knows where the maid might be... or at least where she was. Fincham's down by the docks."

It was Vincent's turn to scowl. "No one is working off the books. Not now. Not after last time."

Joss shook his head. "Dagliesh can't pay anyone to work for him. His pockets aren't simply to let, they're so empty they'd echo like a cavern. Whatever has been done to Annie Foster, he's done it himself. Which do you wish to take? Mayfair or the docks?"

"I'll go after Annie Foster. And if you find my wife, Joss—no. Nevermind. I'll deal with Honoria myself when all this is settled. Just get them somewhere safe and put them in shackles, if need be, to keep them there. Stavers, send for that bloody inspector, Maurice Bates. He'll need to be in on this or he'll never be satisfied of Henrietta's innocence."

Joss wasn't listening. He was already out the door, taking the stairs in a rush. He had one thought and one thought only: Get to Hettie. Get to her, gut Simon Dagliesh, and damn the consequences. Lord or not, the man wouldn't see the dawn.

*

Hettie entered the house and found it dark and quiet. There were no servants, which did not bode well.

"They've all been instructed to make themselves scarce."

The voice, an all too familiar one, had come out of the darkness. Hettie fought back a shiver of fear. She hadn't expected all the servants to be present, but she hadn't thought he would have dismissed them all for the evening. It didn't change her plans, but it did infinitely increase the level of danger she presently found herself in. "Of course they were. What is all this really about, Simon?"

"It's about the bastard in your belly. It's certainly not dear Uncle Arthur's," he mused, slowly stepping forward.

Hettie took him in. Dressed in rough, dirty clothing, his face unshaven and his hair unkempt, it was quite clear that Simon was spiraling out of control. The stress of his current situation, his debts, and the threat she posed to the security of his future had clearly taken their toll on him. "Simon, you do not look well."

"Concerned for me, Auntie? I don't think so."

"No," Hettie agreed. "It's merely an observation. What is it that you have planned? Naturally, it will be something dastardly."

"Indeed it is. You're going to die. Whether it is quickly and as painlessly as possible or whether I make you suffer greatly will depend entirely upon how cooperative you are."

Hettie laughed. "Dead is dead, Simon. Whether it is painful or painless, the end result is the same and undesirable. But I shall cooperate with you on one condition—"

"Do you really think you are in a position to make demands?"

"It's a simple enough one," Hettie continued. "You will take me to wherever Annie Foster is. And I know she is not here. You would not risk her having an ally in this house, nor could you persuade all the servants to vacate the house if you brought her here with you."

"All your association with criminals has apparently given you remarkable insight... but I've no wish to traipse all over London with an unwilling woman who might throw me to the wolves at any moment."

"We need not traipse. I have a carriage. You take me to Annie, put her in the carriage, and send her on her way. Then you will have my full cooperation."

"And if I do not?"

"Then I shall scream this house down around our ears. While the servants here have been given the night off, they have not been sent away next door, nor across the road. Someone will hear me. Perhaps that will not be enough to save me, Simon, but it will be enough to see you hang."

He stepped forward, one menacing step after another until he stood there, nose to nose with her. "Do not try me, Henrietta. And do not defy me. You want to see your maid? Fine. I'll take you to her, but her face will be the last thing you see."