The Whoremonger’s Guide. Morgana bit her lip. And all along she had worried about his disapproval.
She shook her head. It defied logic that he would visit such a place like this the day his employer and guests were kidnapped. And Cripps was too old a man to be a rescuer. He would get himself killed.
Mrs Rice gave him a sideways glance. ‘I am certain we can accommodate you, sir. Show me some coin.’
Morgana heard the clink of coins. Lots of them.
‘I’ve not seen you here before.’ Mrs Rice spoke conversationally.
Morgana held her breath. Did Mrs Rice suspect he was not a genuine customer?
‘Indeed. This is my first time.’ He pointed to the book. ‘But it says here—’
‘Yes, yes,’ Mrs Rice broke in. ‘We shall accommodate you very well.’
Morgana dared to peek out again, but ducked back quickly when Mrs Rice turned to escort Cripps up the stairs. Wildly looking for a place to hide, all she saw were closed doors. She didn’t dare enter them. Mrs Rice and Cripps came closer. Morgana ducked into a dark corner and hoped the woman would not look too carefully into the shadows.
Mrs Rice led Cripps to one of the doors at the other end of the hall. ‘This one is a very lively girl. If she gives you trouble you tell me. I’ll teach her to behave.’
‘I enjoy a spirited young lady.’
Cripps said this very convincingly. He followed Mrs Rice into the room.
A moment later Mrs Rice came out again, saying, ‘I shall return when your time is up.’
When Morgana was certain Mrs Rice had reached the bottom of the stairs, she crept from her hiding place and tiptoed towards the room into which Cripps had disappeared.
She had just passed the stairway when a door behind her opened. ‘You there!’ a man yelled.
She swerved around and came face to face with one of the men who had abducted them. She made a mad dash for the stairs, but he caught up to her.
‘Oh, no, you don’t, missy.’ She could smell his foul breath as his hands grabbed for her.
She caught hold of the banister and tried to pull herself from his grasp, but he held on. From behind her, she heard Lucy cry, ‘Let her go!’ But other footsteps sounded and Lucy’s cries were muffled. The man dragged Morgana down the stairs, the fingers of her gloves tearing from her efforts to hang on to the wrought-iron spindles of the banister.
‘What is this?’ Mrs Rice rushed out of the curtained room. She spied Morgana. ‘Not you! Get her out of the hallway.’
‘She’s a devil, she is,’ the man said, dragging Morgana through the curtained door into a room decorated like a fine drawing room, but with a desk at one end.
Morgana could not free herself so she opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. The man clamped his dirty hand over her lips. She bit it.
‘Ow!’ Letting go with one hand, he hit her so hard in the face she saw stars.
‘Take her out of this house!’ cried Mrs Rice. ‘I want rid of her!’
Out in the darkness, Sloane heard the scream and could wait no longer. He turned to where Elliot and Morgana’s footman stood with a still-trembling Rose. ‘I must go in. Be ready to follow me at the signal.’ He glanced at Rose. ‘If we do not come out, you get yourself home.’
Rose nodded.
Sloane slipped through the shadows, nearly invisible in his dark clothing. He headed for the wooden door where they had seen Rose emerge. He opened it carefully and went inside, climbing down the stone steps into the cellar where sounds of pounding could be heard.
A man yelled, ‘Let me out!’ from behind a locked door.
Sloane did not oblige him. He smiled, guessing it had been Morgana’s work that put the man there. He ran down the cellar’s corridor and up the stairs. Crossing the dark room to the door on the other side, he opened it a crack and heard the voices.
‘You cannot get rid of me.’ It was Morgana, speaking with bravado. ‘I will escape again. This fool cannot hold me!’
‘Shut your clapper!’ a man shouted, and Sloane heard the sound of a fist connecting with skin.
‘Kill her now, Trigg!’ Mrs Rice commanded.
Sloane rushed towards the voices, charging through a curtain into a room and straight towards a man who held Morgana by the throat.
Shocked at the surprise attack, Trigg released Morgana.
‘Sloane!’ she rasped.
Sloane knocked Trigg against a table, which shattered, spilling them both to the floor. Trigg grabbed a candlestick that had fallen to the floor. He swung it towards Sloane’s head. Morgana grasped the candlestick in both hands and held on, while Sloane regained his footing.
‘Come! Come! We need help,’ Mrs Rice screeched.
Footsteps pounded from above them. Trigg pulled out a knife and charged at Sloane, who whipped out a long dagger from his boot. The two men slashed at each other and their knives connected like swords. From behind him Sloane heard the loud report of a pistol. Instinctively he ducked and swerved to see Morgana holding Rice’s wrist, the pistol smoking in her hand.
Screeching like a banshee, Trigg came at Sloane again, so close he slashed the fabric of Sloane’s coat. Another man ran into the room and grabbed Sloane’s arms. Trigg started to jab with his knife.
‘No!’ Morgana pulled at Trigg’s arm.
‘Run, Morgana,’ Sloane commanded. ‘Get out of here!’
She flashed him a determined look. ‘No.’
From above came a loud boom, freezing everyone in their places. ‘Fire!’ someone yelled, and the scent of smoke hit Sloane’s nostrils. People could be heard coughing and running down the stairs.
Mrs Rice quickly went to her desk and unlocked a drawer. She removed a metal box. Clutching it in her arms, she cried, ‘Make way!’
As she ran out of the room, Trigg and the other man looked at each other and pelted after her. Morgana scrambled over to Sloane.
He threw his arms around her, holding her tight. ‘Morgana.’ Though the air was becoming thick with smoke, he kissed her. ‘Morgana, my love.’
She took his face in her hands. ‘I knew you would come.’
Above the din of fleeing bodies, Elliot’s voice could be heard. ‘Lucy! Lucy!’
‘Oh, my goodness! The fire! We must find them!’ Morgana pulled away. ‘They were abovestairs. Cripps, too!’
Sloane held on to her. ‘You do not have to save them, Morgana. Cripps created the diversion. Elliot and your footman will save them.’
She looked at him with a puzzled expression.
‘Come.’ He kept one arm around her and led her to the door.
When they made it to the outside, a crowd had gathered and the bell of a fire brigade could be heard.
‘Oh, I hope no one is hurt!’ Morgana looked up at smoke pouring from the high windows. ‘Lucy! Katy!’
‘Make haste, Morgana. You do not want to be seen here.’ Through the nearby alley, he took her to the back of the house. ‘No one will be hurt, love. It is smoke, not fire. Cripps set it off.’
‘Cripps?’ She gaped at him and suddenly laughed. ‘You are very clever, are you not?’
He