Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Help! Someone please help us!” Thea cried. “My boy is ill!”
She heard a muffled curse from outside the door, someone fumbling to insert a key into the lock. A minute later, the door swung open, and one of the lackeys stormed in. He took one look at Freddy shaking on the ground, and his eyes bugged.
“Mary’s tits, wots the matter wif ’im?” the cutthroat said.
“He’s got falling sickness. The stress of being kidnapped—it’s too much for him,” Thea said tearfully. “I’ve never seen him in such a bad way before.”
Freddy’s eyes rolled back, and he began making gargling noises.
The cutthroat crossed himself, stepped back. “What the bleedin’ ’ell am I supposed to do about it?” he said with clear panic. “Master ain’t back yet, and ’e’ll ’ave me ’ead if anything ’appens to the l’il bugger!”
“Unchain him so that I can make him more comfortable,” Thea said urgently.
The lackey removed the key from his pocket. Hesitated. “Do I ’ave to touch ’im?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Thea said in disgust. “Just throw me the key.”
The guard dropped the key to the ground and kicked it over. Heart pounding, Thea grabbed it and unlocked the manacle on Freddy’s shaking foot. The open shackle clanked to the ground. Breath held, she reached as casually as she could toward the heavy cuff on her own ankle…
“Just ’is,” the guard commanded.
That would have been too easy. Tossing the key back, she said, “He needs some water.”
The guard shuffled off.
The second he was gone, Thea whispered, “You’re doing an excellent job, dear.”
Freddy stopped shaking. Flashed an impish grin.
When the door opened again, he took up the convulsing movements with verve. Thea took the water from the terrified guard and told him that only rest and quiet would help the boy now. The cutthroat seemed more than happy to get away from them. He slammed the door shut, the lock clicking.
Listening to the boot steps fade away, Thea said, “Let’s go. We don’t have much time.”
She and Freddy made their way stealthily toward the alcove. It took some effort, but she managed to get him onto her shoulders. Perched there, he could reach the boarded-up flue.
“The top of the board’s loose,” he whispered. “Hold me still, and I’ll give it a pull.”
Perspiring under the boy’s weight, she nonetheless held him firmly below the knees and braced them both. He yanked hard. The plank gave way with a crack. They both froze at the sound… and at the sudden, stunning whoosh of crisp night air. When the guard didn’t come bursting in, Thea craned her neck, trying to see out the hole.
A patch of gravel. Beyond that, nothing but darkness. As much as she fretted over sending Freddy out there alone, he would be in far greater danger if he remained here.
“Go quickly now,” she urged. “Climb through.”
Tossing the board out onto the gravel, Freddy grabbed onto the edges of the hole. Thea’s lungs strained with effort as she gave him as much of a boost as she could. An instant later, his weight lifted from her shoulders, and she watched, her breath hitching as the soles of his boots disappeared through the opening.
A moment later, his anxious face peered back down at her. “I don’t feel right leaving—”
“Remember what we discussed. Keep moving until you can find a hackney to take you home or a public place where someone can help you. You’re a strong and clever boy: you can do this.”
“I’ll bring Papa back. We’ll come back for you,” he said, his bottom lip trembling.
“I love you, Freddy. Now go,” she said urgently.
At last, he obeyed. She couldn’t see him, her ears straining for any sounds that might indicate that he’d been spotted. But no cry came up, nor any sounds of scuffling. She slumped against the brick, looking up into the exposed night. Worry filled her as she thought of Freddy alone in the dark world, but at least out there he had a chance.
Her head bowing, she prayed that he would find the way home.
***
Night saturated the country sky like indigo ink, darkening Gabriel’s spirits. For the past hour, he, Strathaven, and Marius had been canvassing the quiet streets of Camden Town, a village just north of London. He’d stopped through this bucolic hamlet several times before on his way to Hampstead or Highgate and had thought it rather quaint. Never in a million years had he imagined that he’d be here on a desperate search for his son and Thea. That somewhere in this sleepy town a treacherous spymaster was hiding, preparing for the final game.
“There’s another tavern up ahead,” Strathaven said. “The Bedford Arms. We can ask if anyone there has seen Thea and Freddy.”
They approached the bustling building. To the side of the tavern was an arched entryway with a painted sign above reading, “Tea Gardens.” The raucousness of the crowd beneath the strings of lights indicated that beverages significantly more fortifying than tea were being served.
“You two take the gardens,” Gabriel said. “I’ll inquire inside.”
He entered through a door that badly needed oil on its hinges. Patrons were elbow-to-elbow at the rough trench tables. He honed in on the barkeep behind the scarred counter, a beefy ginger-haired man pouring out tankards as fast as the harried-looking barmaids could scoop them up onto their trays. Gabriel approached and laid down a quid.
The barkeep didn’t lift his eyes from his task. “What’ll it be, sir?”
“I’m looking for two people. A woman and a young boy,” Gabriel said.
“Can’t say I’ve seen any boys in here.”
Hope dwindled, yet Gabriel tried again. “The woman, she’s pretty. Thick golden-brown hair, slender, with delicate features.”
“Gor, I’d have noticed a female like that.” This time, the barkeep raised his head to give Gabriel a man-to-man wink. “But, sorry, guv, I haven’t seen her.”
Fear and desperation gripped Gabriel. His temples throbbed, the creaking door and jovial crowd a dull roar in his ears. Where are you, princess? If you’re here somewhere, send me a sign—
“Guv, this boy you mentioned… could he look a might young for his age?”
Gabriel’s attention snapped back to the barkeep. “Yes. He’s slight.”
“Tow-headed? Bran-faced?”
“You’ve seen him?” Gabriel demanded.
The barkeep pointed over his shoulder. “Standing behind you, guv.”
Gabriel spun around. Couldn’t believe his eyes.
There, standing on the threshold, was Freddy. He was pale and disheveled, dirt smearing one cheek and a rip at the elbow of his jacket. But he looked otherwise unharmed.
“Papa?” he said in a quivering voice.
“Frederick.” He was over in three strides, his arms enfolding the boy, holding the small, trembling body close. “How did you get here? Where’s Thea?”
The boy gave a sudden sob. Pulled back.
“We have to go back for her, Papa. Now,” he blurted.
Ice coated Gabriel’s gut. “Where is she?”
“Back at the house where they took us. The bad man, Davenport. She told me to pretend to have a fit and helped me escape through a hole, but she couldn’t get free because of the chains. They still have her, Papa!”
“Slow down, son. Take a breath.” Gabriel took hold of his boy’s shoulders. “Now tell me where this house is.”
“I don’t know the address.”
Frost spread into Gabriel’s blood.
“But I think I can find it again.” Exhaling, Freddy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial. Eyes wide, he said, “I left a trail with the invisible ink. If we follow it, it will lead us back to Thea.”