They left Mayfair and entered the city. Here the bustle was all about commerce, the businessmen purposeful and the poor more ragged. John pulled up outside a well-maintained bow-fronted office with a sign proudly proclaiming the name of Mr Edward Bliss. A fellow leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the street ran a knowing eye over the horses. ‘Hold ’em for you, mister?’
‘Get a move on, Parks,’ John chortled.
Robert glowered. ‘Ask if either of them have visited,’ he muttered and leaped down to take the nags’ heads.
John stabbed his whip in the holder and stepped down. In the unhurried saunter of the polished gentleman, he entered the solicitor’s office.
The wall-lounger sloped off.
John was back in less than a moment. He shook his head imperceptibly. Robert wasn’t surprised. Neither Snively nor Frederica was a fool. Still, he’d had to try.
‘You didn’t say who was asking?’ he said, when they were on their way again.
‘As we agreed,’ John said. ‘Where now?’
‘Drop me off at the Angel. I’ll start by looking in all the inns within walking distance of here. And then try farther afield.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘There isn’t a prig in the City who will talk to you looking like that,’ Robert said. ‘And besides, I want you to check on ships to Italy. See if any left in the last day or two and if any are due to sail within the next few days.’
‘Do you want me to look at the list of passengers?’ John said, grinning over his shoulder, then executing a nice weave between a baker’s van and a hackney.
‘Thank you,’ Robert said with feeling.
‘What are friends for? You don’t know how I kicked myself after that meeting outside White’s.’
‘Water under the bridge and far out to sea,’ Robert said, clapping him on the shoulder, then cursing as he realised his faux pas.
John laughed. ‘I’ll leave these tits with the groom at the inn and we’ll begin the hunt.’
A knock sounded at the door. Mindful of Snively’s strictures, Frederica approached it cautiously, listening. ‘Who is it?’
‘Chambermaid, miss. To make up the fire.’
The voice was familiar. Betty had been in and out several times during the day. Frederica turned the key and stepped back.
The maid bustled in with a coal scuttle. ‘A man was asking after you and the other gentleman, miss. Described you he did.’
Frederica’s heart gave a warning thump. ‘What man?’
‘Young ’un. Handsome too.’
‘What did you tell him?’ They had given false names at the inn.
‘Nothing, miss. As your friend requested. Thought I better let you know.’ The girl emptied half her bucket on the embers in the grate and poked at them vigorously.
The thumping in her chest picked up speed. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ She fumbled in her reticule and found some coins. Her fingers encountered Snively’s pistol primed and ready to fire.
The girl rose to her feet. ‘Will that be all, mum?’
Frederica nodded and pressed a sixpence in the girl’s ready palm.
‘Tell no one I am here.’
‘No, miss.’
Frederica opened the door and the girl and her coal scuttle slipped out.
Frederica swung the door closed. It stopped short of the frame. The toe of a scuffed brown boot appeared in the crack.
Frederica backed away, watching the door swing open.
‘Miss Bracewell. This is a pleasure,’ said a voice full of anger.
‘R-Robert?’ Frederica sat down heavily on the sofa instead of running and throwing her arms around his neck as she wanted, because this was the Robert of weeks ago. Dark. Aloof. He looked as if he wanted to throttle her. ‘What are you d-doing here?’
He stalked in, his eyes raging, his expression murderous. ‘You didn’t think you’d get away with it, did you? That I’d accept your blame?’
He kicked the door shut with his heel and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Or did you think I wouldn’t find out until they had me clapped up in prison?’
Her heart thumped madly against her ribs. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I helped you escape.’
His lip curled in disgust. ‘While you and Snively helped yourself to his lordship’s family heirlooms.’
She gasped, shocked by the fury in his eyes as much as his words. She gulped a breath. ‘Don’t be r-ridiculous.’
‘Then you won’t mind coming with me to the magistrate and clearing this whole thing up, will you?’
She clutched her reticule against her chest, felt the weight of the pistol inside. Snively had warned her that she had enemies in the Bracewells, but she hadn’t expected Robert to be one of them too. Trying to look natural, unconcerned, she tucked the reticule between her and the sofa arm, fiddling with the strings as she spoke. ‘You are talking in riddles. Isn’t it rather dangerous for you here in London? Or did Lady Caldwell keep her promise and have the charges dropped?’
He snorted. ‘You know very well there is little Maggie can do about what you and your partner in crime have laid at my door. You are coming with me to Bow Street and you are going to admit the whole wretched scheme. Where is the silver? Have you sold it?’
‘Silver?’
‘The Wynchwood family plate you and Snively ran off with.’
He was talking nonsense, but she did not doubt his intention to hand her over to the authorities.
She eased her hand inside her reticule and gripped the pistol firmly. ‘I took nothing that was not mine.’
‘Don’t play the innocent with me. I know better, don’t I?’
Heat rose to her cheeks. He made everything sound so horrid. Sordid. She might have known he’d use her past against her. Everyone did.
She drew out the pistol and cocked it with her thumb, just as Snively had shown her.
Robert started back. Then he grinned, an unpleasant curl of his lips. ‘You don’t think I’m scared of that little pop?’
Her hand shook. Her heart galloped. She felt hot all over. Shoot Robert? She couldn’t. She just needed to hold him at bay until Snively came. She levelled the pistol at his chest and swallowed. ‘In the r-right spot, it will do significant d-damage,’ she said, her voice shaking.
He took a step towards her.
‘Stay where you are.’ Don’t make me do this.
He lunged and knocked the pistol aside, then wrenched it from her hand. ‘If you are going to threaten a man with a pistol, you had better fire it right away.’ He released the cock and slipped the pistol in his pocket.
She crumpled against the sofa back, a little ashamed of her cowardice and a lot relieved. She couldn’t have shot him, no matter what. ‘I won’t go back. I would sooner you shot me than marry Simon.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Damn Simon. Where is the silver? Tell me the truth or I swear you are going straight to Bow