How could it not alter my perspective? It certainly went some way toward explaining why her father had gone to this extent. She may have been the sole child of her household, so she didn’t understand how it felt to have a sibling, but there was nothing she would not have done to defend the honor of a family member, if anyone tried to harm them.
Including you, Father…
Now that she had heard more of his reasoning, she could see that his intentions had been good. But he spoke of paying a price as though he hadn’t paid heavily, himself, in order to make this drastic vengeance happen. What had it cost him? What had it cost her and her mother? What would it cost him, when Bow Street finally caught up to him? He had said it himself; the ton looked after their own. They would be sure to see him swing from the gallows for the terror he had wrought upon their private realm.
“Now, if I may ask—what are you doing here, dressed in all that finery? And how on Earth did you come to be captured by my men? Last I heard of you, and I do hear of you where I can, you weren’t some lady. No, you were righting the wrongs of those who need it most.” He paused. “I confess, I never expected you to continue in my line of work, though you always had the knack for it. Sometimes, I used to think you were better suited to it than me, even.”
Her father seemed eager to change the subject, given the sensitive nature of what he had just revealed to her. No doubt, the shocked expression on her face had also urged him to say something more, in the hopes it might make her talk again.
Victoria battled to find her voice. “I learned a thing or two from you, Father.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, as you have mentioned, you have been causing quite the upset among the fine folks of Mayfair. Ordinarily, I would not have involved myself in the affairs of high society, but when I heard that young women were being stolen out of their beds… well, that changed things. I decided to do whatever I could to help, especially as the case appeared to be so very intriguing, with none of those other louts having made any progress whatsoever.” Victoria’s stomach twisted in conflict.
He had them stolen out of their beds. Surely, that is beyond the pale of revenge? Truly, she couldn’t help but flit between understanding his reasons and damning them entirely.
“What troubles you?” her father asked, clearly noting the sudden strain upon her features.
“What does not trouble me would be a simpler question.” Victoria shook her head, still fighting to come to terms with the fact that her father was not only alive, but he was also the mastermind behind the Mayfair kidnappings. Even if he treated the stolen ladies well, that didn’t negate the initial kidnapping, nor did it sit at all well with Victoria. Regardless of his motives for doing this. Surely, there must have been a different way to gain justice for his sister, and all those other women who were brutalized by that insane Duke?
“Why did you have them taken out of their beds?” Victoria had to ask. “Why did you have men hide in cupboards and wardrobes and beneath the beds of these ladies? Why did you have your men sneak up on them in the most monstrous of manners? Did you really need to frighten the ladies that much, in order to satisfy your thirst for vengeance?”
Her father grimaced. “How my men go about the kidnapping is something I’ve got very little control over. I punish them if I find out that they’ve been too rough, or they’ve been overly familiar, but once they are sent off on their task, it is somewhat out of my hands. That I am sorry for, but I won’t apologize for the rest of it. High society needed to be taught a lesson, and they are learning it well, now.”
“At what cost to you, Father?” she spluttered. “You have lost your family because of this. Mama thinks you are dead. I thought you were dead. I am still struggling to believe you are really here, sitting in front of me.” She shook her head in despair, feeling lightheaded. “You have missed out on so many years because of this endeavor, and if they find you, you will truly be killed. And I do not know if I have the strength to bury you all over again!”
“Be calm, Victoria.” Her father squeezed her hand gently. “I know all of this is a great shock to you. It was a surprise for me, to see you sitting in that chair. You see, I have only dared to watch you from afar, and even then, I have only done so sparingly. It was safer for you that I stayed away. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you and your mother. And as for me being killed because of this—they cannot kill a man who is already dead.”
“They can, and they will!” Victoria protested. “Give this up and run whilst you still can. Let those women go. Disappear into the woodland and keep going until you reach somewhere you can be safe. Stay there and try to find peace, because if you continue on with this, it will only end one way.”
Her father smiled sadly. “I can’t do that.”
“You can, and you should!” she shot back tearfully.
“Come now, there is no cause for tears.” He leaned further forward and placed a hand upon her arm. “Let’s be at peace, my girl. Let’s talk as we used to, when we went out on cases together. You were always good at telling stories, and I’m still itching to find out how you came to be here, dressed as a lady. That dress alone would be enough to buy food for half of Poplar for a month!”
“I did not choose to wear it,” she muttered, feeling a flutter of guilt. “I wore it because of you. Although, I obviously didn’t know it was you who was responsible for all of this.”
“Go on…” he urged.
“I tried to find out who the culprit of these kidnappings might be, through all the usual routes, but that resulted in nothing but a vague suspicion that the people responsible were somehow close to high society—either staff or members of the ton. Further attempts at luring your men into traps failed to work, so I knew I had to do something more drastic. I posed as a high and mighty lady, and used connections to spread the word about me, in the hopes it would entice your men to capture me. Again, not knowing they were your men, at the time.”
Her father nodded. “You must’ve been masquerading as this Lady Laura that they’ve not been able to shut up about. I know you aren’t Miss Longacre, after all.”
“At least the word reached the right people,” Victoria muttered.
“They were supposed to capture both Miss Longacre and Lady Laura this night, so I should say you were very successful in fooling us.” Her father smiled with strange pride. “Although, Benson and Castell told me they couldn’t seize this ‘Lady Laura’ as her cousin was at home. They only pursued you, while you were pretending to be Miss Longacre, because you departed alone.”
Victoria chuckled drily. “A little showmanship, that is all. You know I have always been an excellent mimic. It wasn’t hard to copy Miss Longacre’s voice, and come up with a ruse that would draw them away, following me instead of searching for the real Miss Longacre. I wanted to protect her, and I wanted to be the one to bring the kidnappers in and free the captive ladies, singlehandedly. I knew I would have to do that from within the base of operations, so I allowed myself to be captured, so I might escape from the inside out.”
She kept her expression open and honest, though there was some falsehood in what she said. She had no desire to take the glory for herself, or do this on her own, but a lingering wariness had prompted her to leave out the part about Christian and Benedict. After all, the moment she brought them into it, her father would surely suspect that they could not be far away… with back up, to take down everything her father had built here.
“You’ve always been a creative thinker, my girl. My goodness, what a rigmarole you’ve put us through!” He grinned. “Though, it sounds like we’ve put you through a fair few challenges, too. Yet you made it here. You succeeded, after a fashion—I just wasn’t the person you were expecting to find. But I hope that won’t make you think ill of me, now you know why I’ve been doing these things.”
Right now, I don’t know what I think about anything…
“There’s more ingenuity and determination in your
little finger, than most of the men who work for me have in their entire bodies,” Solomon continued. “And… now that you’ve found me, and you’ve proven just how talented and remarkable you’ve become, I’d like us to join forces again. I’d like us to be a team again. More than that, I’d like us to be a family again—you and me, the way we used to be.”
“What about Mama?” Victoria held his gaze.
He sighed heavily, sinking back in his chair. “Your mother can’t know I’m alive. It would only open up old wounds, and I doubt she’d ever forgive me for staging my own death and putting her through that sort of heartache.”
And you think I have forgiven you? She couldn’t bring herself to say so out loud. So, instead she said nothing.
“You’d have to make up a story of some kind and tell her you wanted to go away for a while. If you did, we could run these operations together, and reset the balance between the wealthy and the poor. We can continue to open orphanages and safehouses, and help families keep a roof over their heads. All without harming a single person. Everyone wins. We can do all of this, together. All you have to do is say you agree.”
“But the captives do not win. They will suffer nightmares for the rest of their days, fearing that someone may creep in their windows and seek to snatch them. They will never be able to open a wardrobe door without thinking there will be something behind. Indeed, they will never be the same again,” Victoria said quietly.
Was that a price worth paying, for the sake of helping those who didn’t have the privilege of wealth? In all honesty, she couldn’t decide, as morality battled within her. It did seem like a small cost when so many would benefit, but that was only if one was able to forget that these high society ladies were human beings. They were not commodities that could be milked for their families’ money.
“You’ve had a long night, Victoria. I don’t need you to answer me now. Take all the time you need.” He gave a warm smile—the kind she had missed so very much. It made her think of the times they had laughed together as the dawn rose, outside Bow Street, with their hands clasped around a cup of hot tea. Solomon McCarthy had always been a serious man, which made the memories of his joviality all the more prominent in Victoria’s head.
“Do I have to go back to the shed?” she muttered miserably.
He shook his head, a wry chuckle escaping his lips. “No, of course not. You can stay here and get warm and think about my suggestion. No need to go back in the shed, now I know my own daughter has found her way back to me.”
I never went anywhere… She stared at him, puzzled. He had been the one to traipse across Britain in pursuit of this insane vengeance. He had been the one to give up everything. He had been the one to forsake Victoria and her mother, yet he was making it sound as though she was the one who had gone a-wandering.
“I’ve got some business to attend to, as you’ve somewhat disrupted our current operations. I don’t mind, as I’m just glad to have you here, but I need to put out some proverbial fires.” Her father got up and walked to Victoria’s side of the desk, where he paused. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. A small, sweet gesture that she hadn’t experienced since she was a child… and very unlike the Solomon that he had come to be, in those last weeks before he staged his death.
He exited the room without another word, leaving Victoria deep in thought. He looked like a different version of the man she had known, and he behaved like a different version of the man she had known, and that made her suspicious.
He was very insistent on me telling him how I came to be here, dressed as a lady. She realized that was where her wariness had stemmed from. He had been subtle about it, but repetition bred suspicion, and there had definitely been something fishy about him returning to that same question—a wariness of his own, no doubt terrified that his own daughter might blow his operation wide open.
But what do I do? I have a family. I have my mother. And what sort of investigator would I be, if I joined forces with a criminal? It pained her to call her father that, but she could find no other word as suitable. He was, for all intents and purposes, a criminal. He had broken the law. He had instructed men to capture innocent girls from their beds, where she was certain they’d put their filthy paws upon them. Seeking any opportunity to touch a pretty woman. Besides, if Benson’s grip was anything to go by, these men hadn’t been gentle when they had wrestled the girls from the sanctuary of their homes.
But he is my father… The other side of the coin. The one that reminded Victoria of happier times, and the motivations that had brought her into this line of employment. She had wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps and continue his legacy.
She sighed heavily, tears pricking her eyes. “But this is a legacy I want no part of,” she whispered to the empty room. Violence and cruelty were never the first option for her. Solomon himself had instructed her to behave that way. But her father seemed to have forgotten that.
She wiped her eyes, as a sob caught in the back of her throat. Often, she had prayed to have her father restored to her. Often, she had cursed the heavens for taking him away, offering everything within her power for the chance to see him again. But not like this. No, not like this.
Perhaps, it would have been better if you had stayed dead.
Chapter 26
Christian brought his horse to a pause and lifted his finger to his lips, as he cast a pointed look at Benedict. They had followed the forest path defiantly and had finally been rewarded with the sight of a dilapidated farmhouse. Christian caught a glimpse of the broken house and its courtyard, surrounded by countless outhouses, through the dense foliage of the woodland around it.
“What do you see?” Benedict led his horse up to Christian’s side.
“There are men wandering around.” The sun had come up an hour ago, giving them a full view of the scene beyond. Mist rolled through the undergrowth like heavy smoke, while dew drops fell from the leaves overhead. One splashed against Christian’s neck, cold and startling, but he remained still. He was too focused on what was going on in that farmhouse.
Benedict squinted. “There’s a barn over there, with men outside.”
“The farmhouse looks like it was singed in a fire. They’re probably using the barn for shelter instead. It looks intact, aside from a few holes in the roof.” Christian observed the layout as closely as he could, wondering if Victoria was in the compound somewhere.
Did you lead us here? He could have retired, at Benedict’s insistence, but he had refused time and time again. Now, he had to believe he had refused for a purpose—because Victoria had been calling to him, guiding him here through the unspoken connection between his heart and hers.
“We can’t attack now,” Benedict said. “With only the two of us, they’ll overwhelm us in no time.”
Christian bristled with frustration. “You think we ought to wait?”
“At least until the officers from Bow Street arrive,” Benedict replied, with a note of reluctance. “They’ll find my note on the way-marker and follow us down this path, but we’ve no way of knowing how far off they might be. Either way, we’ve got to wait. It’d be a massacre for us if we rode in now.”
“You believe them to be armed?” Christian hadn’t thought of that, though he supposed it made sense. If they were out here, in this peculiar place, then it stood to reason that they would want to defend their territory.
Benedict nodded. “I think it highly unlikely that they’re not.”
“I agree, though I wish I could say I didn’t.” Christian huffed a breath between clenched teeth. “And… I agree that we will have to wait. I have seen men ride rashly into battle with fewer numbers, and we both know what the outcome of that is. Very rarely do they emerge the victors.”
“I don’t see any women, though.” Benedict frowned, leaning forward in the saddle to get a better look at the woodland-shrouded farmhouse and its accompanying buildings.
“They are likely hidden away, if they are here
at all.” Christian glanced across the men he could see and counted no less than twelve. Who they were, and why they were here, he didn’t know. They had to have something to do with the kidnappings, but he had never expected to see so many. They had been under the impression that there were only two culprits.
“Someone must be running this operation,” Benedict muttered, his eyes glinting with anger. “And, by the looks of it, it’s a much larger operation than we thought.”
Christian grimaced. “I was just thinking that exact same thing.”
“Wait… I see something!” Benedict hissed, gesturing wildly toward a corner of the courtyard. Christian followed his companion’s jabbing finger. His eyes widened as his gaze settled upon a black carriage, half-concealed by the brickwork of an outbuilding. His own insignia flashed back. It was the carriage Victoria had taken from Miss Longacre’s townhouse. The carriage with Simon Green at the helm.
“Does this mean Green is here?” Christian tried to find that familiar face among the ambling men.
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