Chapter Nine
The laneway was filled with shadows, the gas lamps on the main road barely shedding any light into the inky depths of the side street.
Tina Marks crouched on the shadowy door stoop of a corner shop at the end of the alley, with her fiancé, Robbie Benlow next to her, both of them watching the entrance from the main road with eager but wary anticipation. If everything went as planned tonight, as Robbie had ensured her it would, they would never have to work for the Crowleys, or anyone else, for that matter, ever again.
“Do ya think the man’s coming?” she whispered, gripping the skirts of her plain black dress until her knuckles ached.
Robbie chucked a finger under her chin and smiled. “’Course he will. We’re gonna be rich tonight, love. I can feel it.”
“I don’t know about this,” she worried. “Jane was awful scared when she fled, and she didn’t scare easy. Makes me wonder what sort of bloke this pretend lord is?” Scared was probably too plain a word to call the terror Tina had seen blaring in Jane’s eyes the last time they’d spoken.
They had both been turning down the guests’ beds at yet another of the Crowleys’ infamous country house-parties when Tina had exited one of the rooms, only to see Jane madly dash past her and go up the stairs to the servants’ quarters, as if the very Devil was on her tail.
Tina had followed Jane into their shared room, where Jane was madly shoving some clothes into a cotton sack. Never had Tina seen the normally composed and good-natured Jane so rattled. The girl had literally been shaking from head to toe.
Tina had had to physically grab Jane by her shoulders to stop her mad flurry of activity. “What is wrong?” she’d asked.
Jane’s face had leached of all color. “I’ve overheard something I shouldn’t have, and I’m scared it may be the death of me.”
“So you’re running away?”
Jane’s head bobbed up and down. “I have to. It is the only way. I’ll send word, though, that I am safe. But Tina, this is important: if you don’t hear from me within a fortnight, you must go to Lady Sophie Wolcott and tell her exactly what I am about to tell you.”
Tina could only gape at her. “I don’t want to know nothing. Why don’t you just write down whatever it is and send something to this Lady Sophie instead of getting me involved?”
“I am sending a note to Lady Sophie, but only to apologize for leaving here, after all she has done for me.” Jane glanced down at the clothes clutched in her hand. “I don’t want to place her in needless jeopardy unless I must.”
“And you want to place me in jeopardy instead?” Tina asked.
“No, of course not.” Jane dropped the sack onto the ground and reached out to take one of Tina’s hands. “But he will have no idea I’ve spoken to you, so you shall be safe. And though I’m hoping he won’t bother chasing after me, I fear he might, in order to protect his secret. Then it won’t be difficult to find out that Lady Sophie is the closest thing I have to family. Which may bring her into danger. And if that eventuates, then she will need to know who she is dealing with. Which is why you must seek her out, after the household returns to London, if you don’t hear from me.”
“Who is this man?” Tina had felt a horrid chill wash across her at the desperation and dread she saw in Jane’s eyes.
And so she had listened as Jane told her the secret she had overheard. A secret Tina had not thought was possible. Then, before Tina could do anything more to stop her, Jane had grabbed the small sack containing her belongings with one hand and fled from the room.
Of course, Tina had immediately sought out Robbie, her secret fiancé (the Crowleys’ frowned upon their servants having relationships), and relayed to him what Jane had said. Robbie, it seemed, believed the tale and began to expound on how the information was their ticket out of servitude and would enable them to marry. Which was how they ended up here on this door stoop back in London.
“Tina, I’ve told you not to worry ’bout it.” Robbie smiled. “The man will pay to protect his secret. You can be sure of that.”
“Maybe I shoulda just gone to see Lady Sophie like Jane asked me to…” Jane had, after all, never done anything ill to Tina. And the poor girl hadn’t been heard from since that night.
“Stop it!” Robbie grabbed her shoulders. “You did the right thing telling me what Jane told you. We’re gonna bleed this imposter dry and make a fortune in the process. So no more worrying.”
She bit her bottom lip. “All right, Robbie. As long as you’re sure.” Surely Jane would appreciate Robbie and Tina exploiting the man who had caused Jane such terror.
“That’s my girl.” He kissed her quickly.
“How romantic,” a man’s voice murmured from the darkness of the adjacent lane.
Tina gasped as she and Robbie swiveled back to face the alleyway.
Robbie pushed Tina behind him. She squinted into the blackness of the adjoining street and could just see the outline of a very large man, dressed all in black, who was leaning against the wall on the other side of the cobblestones.
Squaring his shoulders, Robbie took a step out from the stoop. “Are you the one we’ve been waiting for?”
“Why, I believe I am. You did summon me, did you not?” The man’s smooth voice held a hint of menace in its depths. “Indeed, your note was fairly specific about the time and location—oh, and the price I would have to pay for your silence, was it not?”
“That’s right. Did you bring the money?” Tina could hear the bluster in Robbie’s voice, though she hoped the man couldn’t.
“No.”
Robbie swore softly. “Bloody hell! Do you want us to tell the papers who you really are then?”
“Of course not.” The man sounded completed unconcerned and rather jovial, considering the circumstances. “However, I need some assurances that no one else knows my secret. I will admit that your note came as somewhat of a surprise. I had assumed Jane was the only one who knew my true identity. Well, with the possible exception of Lady Sophie, to whom she sent a note. Or so she confessed to me.”
He’d found Jane. “You know Jane sent a note to Lady Sophie?” Tina spoke up from behind Robbie. She didn’t like the sound of Jane “confessing” anything to this man.
“Yes. I managed to catch up with her, and she was very forthcoming.”
But there was no way Jane would have told him about Lady Sophie…unless she hadn’t been given a choice. An overwhelming sense of nausea climbed up her throat. Almost blindly, she grabbed onto the brickwork of the archway she was standing next to and had to take in several deep breaths.
“She didn’t mention anything about the two of you,” the man continued.
“Jane only told me who you were before she fled the Crowleys’,” Tina replied.
“And why would she do that?” he asked.
Tina wanted to run from him as far as she could, but she resisted the impulse as Robbie was with her, and the man wouldn’t try anything with the two of them here. “She told me if I didn’t hear from her in a few days, I had to go tell Lady Sophie who you were.”
The man rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “So you decided to use the information to blackmail me instead of telling Lady Sophie, is that the case?”
Robbie narrowed his eyes at the man. “You have a problem on your hands if you ain’t brought the money like you were supposed to.”
The man simply smiled. “No, I do not. Neither of you will be getting a penny from me until I am certain that you are the only ones left that know my secret.”
“And how you gonna know that?” Robbie asked. His backward grip on her waist should have felt comforting, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the two of them were facing more than they’d bargained for. She clutched her fiancé’s arm, partly in a futile attempt to protect him somehow and partly for reassurance.
“The letter Jane sent to Lady Sophie appears to be the only loose end in this fiasco. Procure it before Lady Sophie does, and you will get your just rewards, of that I give you my word,” the man promised.
“How the bleeding hell are we supposed to do that?” Robbie huffed. “No. You’re going to pay up now. Otherwise, we’ll go to the papers.”
The man gave a humorless laugh. “Believe me, keeping my secret safe is in your interests, because as soon as you went to the papers, you wouldn’t get a farthing out of it.” He took a slow and calculated step toward Robbie, getting far too close for Tina’s comfort.
“But how are we meant to get it?” Tina spoke up, hearing the panic in her own voice.
The man pondered that for a moment. “Thankfully, the speed at which the post is delivered from the country is ridiculously slow. Thus far, I have satisfied myself, both in speaking with Lady Sophie and being able to very briefly search her study, that the letter hasn’t arrived yet. So I suggest you two find a way to monitor the arrival of her mail and retrieve it before she receives anything. You both seem rather apt at games of intrigue.” He slowly slid back into the shadows. “Time is of the essence, though, for all of us. If Jane did reveal my identity in her letter, and we don’t intercept the note, then my secret will be unearthed, and I will have no need to pay any blackmail threats.”
Robbie cocked his head to the side and regarded the man. “So if we get this letter for you or find out if she knows who you really are, then you’ll give us the five thousand pounds?”
The man paused briefly. “I even intend to pay you more than you demanded. But you had best be quick. Send me a note once you have the letter in your possession, and I will exchange it for your reward.” The man inclined his head briefly before turning and silently blending into the darkness of the alley.
Tina lost sight of him after only a few feet. A great relief engulfed her when she was satisfied he had gone. She chewed her lower lip. “How are we gonna find this letter?”
“Leave that to me,” Robbie promised. “Trust me, Tina, this is our ticket out of this slum, and I ain’t gonna let no one stand in our way.”
…
Sophie sat in the darkened carriage, vaguely listening to Mabel’s chatter as they headed home from a night at the theatre. Staring out the glass pane of the window, she glanced into the fog-shrouded street. The light from the gas lamps lining the section of roadway were barely penetrating the thick gloom. She pulled her shawl closer over her shoulders and sighed softly.
She had hardly been able to concentrate on the play, her mind constantly replaying the events from the morning over and over again. Unbidden thoughts of both men had been swirling about in her head, assisted by Mabel’s constant chatter on the subject throughout the evening.
And then there was the worry over Jane and whether or not she did indeed steal the late Lady Abelard’s journal and jewels. Sophie could not believe such a thing of the girl she had mentored.
A flash of lightning across the night sky and the accompanying rumble of thunder in the distance jolted her out of her melancholy thoughts. The weather seemed to be sharing her internal conflict, with a gust of wind buffeting the carriage.
The conveyance came to halt outside of their residence, and she breathed in a sigh of relief. Thankfully, now she could escape from Mabel’s talk of marriage, at least for the remainder of the night.
One of the footmen opened the door to the carriage and proffered his hand. She took it and stepped down the carriage steps onto the cobblestones beneath.
She glanced up at the facade of the grand residence and stopped short when she caught sight of an elderly man’s face eagerly peering out of the sitting room window.
Her jaw dropped when she recognized it to be her man of affairs, who assisted her with the Grey Street Orphanage. Mr. Baker was here at this hour? Something must definitely be wrong if he was in attendance. And if Aunt Mabel found out another gentleman was calling at this time of the night, even though Mr. Baker was seventy if he was a day, she was certain to have a fit of the vapors, particularly after the morning’s events. Quickly, Sophie motioned with her hand for Mr. Baker to get away from the window.
“Is something wrong, my dear?” Mabel asked as she, too, alighted from the carriage.
Sophie spun around to her aunt. “Just a slight hand cramp. But you are quite right; the weather is horrendous. We had best make our way inside.”
She raced up the steps ahead of her aunt, toward the door being held open by Stokes. She quickly peered back and saw that her aunt was only just stepping up the first of the many stairs to the entrance.
Rushing inside, she whispered to Stokes, “What is Mr. Baker doing here?”
“He has been waiting for you for about half an hour,” Stokes replied, bending his lanky frame down to whisper to her. “He said it was urgent and he must speak with you when you arrive home.” He straightened and stood tall, not a strand of his snow white hair daring to stray from its intended position.
“Very well, but do not mention this to my aunt. She has had enough excitement for one day.”
“I would not dream of it,” Stokes replied sagely, even though a spark of merriment danced in his eyes. Thankfully, Sophie could always depend upon him for his discretion and his loyalty. He’d been with the family since before she’d been born, and she really didn’t know what any of them would ever do without him.
“I am off to bed,” Mabel said as she walked into the house. “Be sure not to stay up too late. I do not want you to have even a hint of dark circles under your eyes when the Earl comes calling in the morning.”
“I shan’t, Aunt,” she promised as she took Mabel’s shawl from her and handed it to Stokes. “Good night.” She gave Mabel a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Good night, dearest,” Mabel replied as she sailed up the stairs to the next landing.
Sophie watched until her aunt was out of sight before she raced down the hall to the sitting room.
She skidded to a halt at the open door and saw Mr. Baker sitting on the chaise, tapping his left foot up and down at a ridiculously fast pace. “What is going on Mr. Baker?”
He jumped up. “Lady Sophie, I have the most dreadful news concerning the orphanage! I could not wait until the morning to relay it to you.”
A chill went through her at hearing the words “dreadful news” and “orphanage” in the same sentence. Those children had been through enough in their short lives, and Grey Street was supposed to be their safe haven. The thought of anything jeopardizing it… “Well, out with it, Mr. Baker. What has happened?”
He gulped and smoothed down some hair on his slightly balding head. “I am afraid it is the deed to the orphanage, Lady Sophie. It has been gambled away!”
“What?” Lord Relton owned the orphanage building and the land it sat upon, after purchasing it from Sophie’s no-good gambler of a father years ago, but surely he wouldn’t be so careless, knowing how many children’s lives depended upon the building. “That cannot be so.” She stalked over to the front window and rubbed her temple with her fingers. She focused on calming her breath. Getting upset was not going to resolve the matter. She breathed out and dropped her hand.
“Unfortunately, it is so,” Mr. Baker said. “Such a terrible and unexpected turn of events.”
“When did this happen?”
“Earlier this evening, Lady Sophie. I came as soon as I confirmed the rumors to be true.” Sitting back down, he shakily readjusted his cravat. “I must say, I was quite shattered by the news.”
Never, even in her wildest dreams, could she have foretold facing such a predicament. “This must be some sort of joke, Mr. Baker. No one, not even that idiot Lord Relton, could have been stupid enough to gamble away such prime land and the steady income our rent provides.”
“I am afraid the news gets worse, my lady,” he carried on, “which is why I felt obliged to wait here this evening until you returned from your engagements.”
Oh no. His words brought an immediate halt to her mental catalogue of ways to salvage the situation. “How on Earth could this situation get any worse?”
He cleared his throat and fiddled with his bow tie for a moment. “Well, apparently there is talk that the new owner intends to tear down the orphanage and build a row of town houses in its place.”
She reared back in shock, for a brief moment feeling as if she might need her aunt’s smelling salts. “What? But they only won the deed to the orphanage tonight.”
“I know, but apparently the new owner has already boasted of his destructive plans,” he replied. “A potential disaster looms before us.”
“How could this have happened?” She began to pace the room. “I have been trying to amass enough donations to buy the orphanage off that scrooge, Lord Relton, for years, and he promised he would sell it to me once I had the capital! And now you tell me he’s gambled away the orphanage to someone who wishes to build town houses in its place. Town houses?”
“Yes, my lady. I believe Lord Relton made a rather poor wager, utilizing the orphanage as collateral, and lost.”
“Of all the stupid things!” she fumed, fisting her hands by her side as she marched the length of the room once more. “Trust a man to wager the lives of orphaned children, not to mention thousands of pounds, on the roll of a dice.”
“I believe it was a hand of whist.”
Sophie whirled to face him. “Quite frankly, Mr. Baker, I care neither if it was cards or dice. What I care about is the fate of the children. Who is the new owner?” Surely whomever it was could be persuaded to sell it to her as Lord Relton had promised to?
“A very powerful lord.” Mr. Baker’s face seemed to go slightly ashen.
“Well, do not beat about the bush. Who is it?” She steeled herself for his answer.
He cleared his throat and adjusted his cravat. “The deed has been won by the Duke of Huntington.”
Just when she’d thought nothing else could shock her. “The Duke of Huntington?”
“Yes.” His head earnestly jerked up and down. “Everyone knows the Duke has a golden touch when it comes to wagers and business deals. Goodness knows what Lord Relton was thinking. No one bets against the Devil and wins.”
“Greed would be why he made the wager, Mr. Baker. That seems to be the central force as to what drives a man. But surely you must be wrong about the Duke’s intentions?” Why promise her such a generous donation for the orphanage, only to turn around and threaten to tear it down, leaving the children without the only home many of them had ever known?
Wringing his soft hands so hard she thought he might damage them, Mr. Baker morosely said, “I have it on the highest authority that after winning the wager, the Duke boasted about how much more profitable it was going to be to build town houses on the site.”
Sophie was flabbergasted. Surely the Duke would not have done such a thing in response to the morning’s misadventure? No, the rumors simply could not be true.
He was not that black-hearted; a rake to be certain, but he could not be callous enough to throw homeless children out onto the street to accrue more money. Money he did not need, as he was already one of the wealthiest men in England. “You have all of your facts absolutely correct?”
“I am afraid so,” he said. “I have arranged a meeting on the morrow, and I will certainly express your outrage. Though I doubt I will get an actual audience with the Duke himself. Most likely it will be with his man of affairs.”
“That shall not be necessary.” She stalked over to the door and yanked it open. “You may cancel your appointment on the morrow. It will not be needed, for I shall visit the Duke myself this evening.”
“But my lady,” Mr. Baker stammered as he stood, “you cannot see him at this hour of the night. It would be highly improper.”
“Saving the orphanage is more important than the proprieties.” She strode through the sitting room door. “Do not worry, Mr. Baker. I shall deal with the devil myself.”