Chapter Thirty-Nine

T he hack stopped and Joss climbed out, tossing the driver a coin. He could hear the water lapping at the banks as he approached the wharf. Searching the house for Dagliesh and Hettie had taken minimal time. The entire place had been empty. Even the servants were absent.

Up ahead, he could see the Hound and Arliss Battson along with Maurice Bates. There were other men there as well, all of them being assigned specific areas to search and monitor. Approaching them, he noted the grim expression on Vincent's face.

"What is it?"

"Collinsworth found Annie Foster. He's seeing her back to the house. She's in a bit of a bad way. Cold and frightened. The bastard had her in a barrel, under the quay... just waiting for the tide to come in and finish her off. Another five minutes, and we'd have been too late."

Joss winced. It wasn't just attempted murder. It was mental and emotional torment. For her to have been locked in that small tight space for hours, waiting for the water to swamp her—he couldn't imagine that such an event would not leave her irrevocably altered. But there were other matters that required immediate attention.

"Are you convinced now, Bates?"

The detective looked at him. "I am. And given what he's done—the particularly fiendish manner in which he nearly killed that girl—I'll have no trouble at all getting him convicted. We just have to catch him."

That was, Joss thought, at least one of their many problems solved. Hettie was no longer a suspect. Now, if only he could ensure that she remained alive long enough to thrash her for being so reckless. "If Dagliesh finds that Annie has escaped, that puts Hettie in more danger than ever. He'll feel threatened because he will not believe she might ever have escaped on her own. The moment he realizes that we're onto him, Hettie's life will be forfeit."

Vincent nodded. "I have men stationed there already, watching for him. And that is where we will go now, as well. Because wherever Hettie is, Honoria will be right with her. I may well throttle them both for this harebrained scheme!"

For his part, Vincent would have to get in line. But he said nothing further as they made their way along the row of warehouses, keeping to the shadows and watching for even the slightest hint of trouble.

*

Honoria had waited until they were far enough from the carriage that she wouldn't be overheard. Then she slowly extricated herself from the small compartment concealed beneath the seat. The coachman, Sally in disguise, was inside the carriage, concealed from view but watching through the open door.

"Which way did they go?" Honoria asked.

Sally pointed straight ahead. "Down that way. I'm coming with you."

"No. If Hettie should escape him or Annie, they'll come straight back to this carriage. Your job is to get them back to the house on Curzon Street as quickly as possible."

"I will not just leave you here!"

Honoria shook her head. "Vincent has men working all over this city. I will be able to find someone to give me aid should I require it. But Hettie, as soon as we free Annie, needs to be as far from Simon's reach as possible. She'll have no chance of that on foot. Promise me, Sally, that you will not take unnecessary risks. Your children need you too much."

Sally made a sound of distress. "I don't like it. I don't like it none at all."

"None of us like this," Honoria said, checking the weapons she'd liberated from Vincent's office. The pistols were primed and ready. She had one blade tucked into her boot and another up her sleeve. "But I won't lose her. I will not lose my sister. No matter what I must do."

With that, Honoria slipped down from the carriage. She could see Hettie and Simon walking only a few yards ahead. Ducking quickly into the shadows, she followed behind them with a stealth worthy of even the greatest of spies. There was too much at stake to risk even the smallest of errors.

From one darkened alcove to another, concealing herself behind stacks of crates and barrels—Honoria never let Hettie and Simon out of her sight. When their steps slowed before one of the warehouses, her breath caught and held even as her heart pounded furiously in her chest. Then arms reached out of the darkness, snatching her back even as a hand closed over her mouth, muffling the slightest of sounds.

"When I get you home, I have a half a mind to turn you over my knee... and not in a way you'd particularly enjoy."

That familiar voice hissing a harsh warning in her ear belonged to Vincent. With recognition came instant relief, and she sagged against him. "Thank heavens you are here! We had to act quickly when Hettie received Simon's demands."

"That's no excuse for behaving so recklessly," he admonished. "If I lost you... Honoria, do not ever place yourself at risk this way again. There is a darkness inside me that you cannot conceive of, and your presence in my life may be the only thing holding it at bay."

The furious pace of her heart had not slowed, but now there was a cause beyond fear for its rapidity. "We couldn't just leave Annie to his mercy. He does not have any." She turned back to where Simon was leading Hettie down the embankment toward the river. "I presume that you have men stationed to wherever it is he's leading her?"

"Joss is waiting under there along with Arliss Battson. What bloody coachman brought you here? I'll have his head."

"We told the coachman to take the night off. Do not blame him for our actions. And as for who brought us, if you'd like to read Sally Dawson the riot act, feel free... but I wouldn't expect her to take it quietly."

He muttered a word under his breath that had her smiling. She knew she'd won the argument, at least for the moment.