by Darcy Burke
THAT EVENING ETHAN was subjected to the typical humiliations Jimmy inflicted on those who crossed him. Ethan’s dinner was tossed to him in pieces, as if he were a dog, and when he had to relieve himself, he was given a chamber pot and no privacy. Jimmy and the men at his table, meanwhile, enjoyed plenty of food, wine, and ale and threw disparaging comments at Ethan. Marie served them and cast intermittent pitying glances toward Ethan.
Ethan didn’t let the mistreatment get to him. If his plan worked, it would be a small price to pay. He also tried not to think about what would happen if it didn’t work.
Jimmy motioned for one of the guards to come to him. The guard leaned down while Jimmy whispered something in his ear. He nodded and left. Jimmy’s gaze settled on Ethan a moment, as it had frequently throughout the night. This time lasted longer than the others but ended the same, with a regretful headshake.
Ethan wondered what that was about, but reasoned it maybe had nothing to do with him. He leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. There was a grayish stain in the nearest corner. He’d spent a good portion of the last several hours trying to determine its cause. It was better than contemplating his future. He wouldn’t let himself think past tomorrow morning.
The guard returned with two other men who came directly to him. Ethan recognized them, but only recalled the name of the smaller man—George. They unshackled him and led him to the other doorway. Ethan glanced over at Jimmy, but he was turned away talking to whoever sat on his right.
Ethan had only been through this door to go outside, but he knew it also led to a room where Jimmy sent men to be beaten. Was Ethan to be punished before he was tried and hanged? His muscles tensed, and he weighed whether he could take out the two men before they subdued him. But Ethan had no weapons—they’d been stripped from him with his boots—and the guards were armed to the teeth.
“What’s going on?” Ethan asked.
George shook his head. “Ye’re a lucky bastard. Jimmy’s sendin’ ye a girl.” He led Ethan down a short corridor to another door.
“I don’t want a girl.” Particularly if she wasn’t going to aid his cause. He certainly didn’t want to shag anyone other than Audrey.
George turned and looked at Ethan as if he were daft. “I’m not tellin’ Jimmy ye don’t want his generosity.”
Why was Jimmy doing this? Was it because he was so drunk? It was when he was most vulnerable—at least emotionally. Was he allowing sentimentality to guide his actions? Perhaps there was still a way Ethan could somehow turn this to his advantage. If he could find a way out of here tonight, he’d save everyone a lot of trouble on the morrow.
George opened the door to a very small room with only a pallet on the floor and a flickering sconce. There was also another ring on the wall to which was affixed a length of chain and a shackle. It seemed Jimmy’s generosity only extended so far.
Ethan turned, hoping there was a way to get past the other guard, but he was huge and filled the doorway. He also gave Ethan an impassive glower that somehow verbalized there was no way to get through him.
But Ethan hadn’t survived as long as he had without taking risks.
He launched himself at the man’s middle, hoping to take him down and somehow clamber over him. If he could get to the doorway in the middle of the short corridor, he could find his way out of the maze that was the Cup and Burrow.
However, the giant didn’t fall. He clasped his arms around Ethan and slammed him into the doorframe. Pain radiated along Ethan’s spine. He wanted to strike out, but his arms were pinned. Instead, he kicked—ineffectively—at the man’s legs.
The brute carried him into the chamber like he was a sack of stolen goods. When Ethan was near enough to the chain, George took his right hand and shackled him to the wall. The man dropped him to the pallet and stepped back. Ethan lunged for him, but the chain kept him from getting close enough.
George had also retreated. “Try anything like that again and I’ll have to tell Jimmy. I always liked ye, Jagger, but ye know where my loyalties must lie. We’ll be right outside so we can let yer girl in. Try to enjoy ’er.” He gave Ethan a final resigned look, then they left, locking the door behind them.
Ethan had no intention of enjoying anything. But perhaps this was the torture Jimmy intended. He knew Ethan loved Audrey, that he was willing to sacrifice his life to save her. So what would be more degrading than to send a woman to entice him, to perhaps even force him?
A shudder wracked his aching frame. He’d endured many long nights, especially in his youth when he’d had to sleep with one eye open in order to preserve himself. This night, however, might just be the longest he’d ever endured.
Chapter Twenty-one
AUDREY AND SCOT made their way through St. Giles with only mild looks of interest directed their way. Or, more accurately, her way. Though she wore a cloak to cover the alarming décolletage of her gown, its vivid scarlet hue was still visible at the hem. The lurid color stuck out in the grime of St. Giles like a beacon on a dark night. And despite the bonnet that covered her hair and should’ve provided a bit of shade for her face, every now and then a lantern cast its illumination over her heavily made-up features. At these times, those who caught sight of her stared. Olivia had done a wonderful job making her look . . . different, and in a surprisingly inoffensive way.
They approached the Cup and Burrow. Audrey’s pace quickened as her insides tightened. “Around the back,” she murmured to Scot.
He took her hand and led her down a narrow alley, which boasted a half dozen or so slumbering men. They didn’t stir as Audrey and Scot picked past them. Audrey brought her hand to her nose as they neared the last—he smelled as if he’d soiled himself.
They came to a door and Scot halted. “This has to be it.” He turned to look at her, but his face was barely discernible in the meager light that spilled down the alleyway. “You ready?”
She nodded. She didn’t want to think about it too long. Leaving Scot’s company filled her with fear, but she knew he wouldn’t be far—just in the common room. She also knew that Jason, Sevrin, Carlyle, and Saxton were nearby too, or would be.
Audrey unclasped her cloak and gave it to Scot, who would dispose of it before he went into the Cup and Burrow. “I’ll see you soon,” she said brightly, in an effort to buoy her confidence.
“Aye, and remember, I’ll be only a scream away.” He squeezed her hand and departed down the alley. He lingered at the end while she rapped on the door.
It took several attempts before the door opened. Audrey’s shoulders drooped in relief as she cast a final glance at Scot before stepping inside.
“Wot ye doin’ at this hour?” Mother Dean, the Cup and Burrow’s mistress, blinked at Audrey and rubbed her reddened eyes.
“I came to work. Ye ain’t goin’ to turn me away, are ye?” Audrey had worked on her speech with Olivia, trying to emulate the women Olivia had known in her past. Audrey passed a hand over her bodice and rested it against her hip. She thrust her chest out for good measure.
Mother Dean held up her lantern and scrutinized Audrey for a long moment. Her gaze rested on Audrey’s face, and Audrey held her breath waiting to see if she’d recognize her from their brief meeting the previous day.
After several blinks, Mother Dean nodded. “All right then.” She rang a bell and after a lengthy wait, Nan appeared, carrying a candle.
Audrey suppressed a relieved grin. Her happiness faded as Mother Dean cuffed Nan. “Took ye long enough.”
Nan massaged her ear and murmured an apology.
“Take ’er to the common room.” Mother Dean gave Audrey one last assessing glance. She grinned suddenly. “Aye, ye’re goin’ to make me a pretty penny. Just look at ’er titties, Nan!” She laughed and disappeared the way she’d come.
Nan glanced at Audrey before pivoting away from her. “Come along then. I need to fetch a girl on our way.”
Audrey touched Nan’s shoulder. “Nan, it’s me, Audrey. Jagge
r’s . . . woman.”
Nan swung around and leaned toward her, scrutinizing Audrey’s face by the light of the sconce flickering a short distance away. Her eyes widened. “I didn’t recognize you.” Her gaze turned appreciative. “Who made up your face?”
“I can trust you to help me, can’t I, Nan?”
Nan’s shoulders arched and her features tightened with fear. She backed up a step. “Please don’t ask me to do nothin’.”
Audrey’s hope was dwindling fast. “Nan, you’d help Jagger if you could, wouldn’t you? We have a plan to rescue him—and you. Wouldn’t you like to leave St. Giles?”
Nan’s shoulders relaxed and she moved closer, until she was barely a hand width away. “I’d like that above all else, but how do you mean to do it?”
“I can’t get into the specifics, but there will be a time, when they take Jagger outside tomorrow morning, for those who support him to come forward and assist with his liberation.” Audrey spoke with as much detachment as she could muster, though discussing his impending execution made her want to toss up her accounts.
Nan raised a hand to her mouth. “Bloody ’ell.”
“Nan, you must only tell people you absolutely trust. We can’t let Gin Jimmy know of this plan.”
After a series of violent nods, Nan lowered her hand. “I understand, and I’ll do what I can What’re you goin’ to do now?”
“I’d like to get to Eth—er, Jagger.” She needed to tell him about their plan and give him the knife stashed in her boot.
Nan shook her head sadly. “I can’t get directly to ’im. ’E’s in the ‘eart o’ Jimmy’s den.” She looked down and fidgeted with the candlestick. “I could get you close. I’m supposed to take a girl to Jimmy.”
Before she could think better of it, Audrey said, “Take me.”
Nan’s head shot up and she gaped at Audrey. “You can’t mean it.”
“Yes, I do. Just get me over there and I’ll figure out a way to get to Ethan.” Armed with a knife in her boot and a pistol against her thigh, she was optimistic about her chances. Perhaps foolishly so, but Ethan’s life was at stake and she wouldn’t let him go without a fight. “Could I beg one more favor of you? There’s a man in the common room. Athletic looking fellow, attractive, dark hair, very nice blue eyes, goes by the name Scot. Could you let him know where I am?”
Loud voices came from the other end of the corridor. Nan jumped. “We should go. I’ll take you the back way.” She led Audrey through a doorway and along a narrow passage. At the end, she slowly opened a door. The hinges creaked their arrival like a warning bell.
“Wot took ye so long?” thundered a deep voice.
“We just got a new girl in. I had to get ’er.” Nan’s voice trembled and Audrey prayed the young woman wouldn’t give her away.
Audrey stepped into a small hallway with several doors leading from it. Filling the close space was a huge man with a mane of dark, scraggly hair, and a chest as wide as two Nans. He raked her with a lustful stare, his focus settling on the too-tight and too-low bodice of her gown. Her fingers itched to grasp the pistol strapped to her thigh.
The man chuckled, a low sound that rumbled in Audrey’s chest. “Lucky prick. Let’s see ’im say no to this one.” He inclined his head toward a door, which was being unlocked by a much smaller man.
Fear and bile rose up Audrey’s throat. She could go into that room to God-knew-what awaited her or she could take on two men and try to find Ethan. She hesitated too long. The hulking brute of a man grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, propelling her toward the now open door. The smaller man pushed her inside and before she could regain her footing, the door closed behind her. She spun about and tried to push it open, but the lock clicked.
“Audrey?”
Relief poured through her at the sound of her name in that familiar voice. She pivoted and took in the pallet, the chain, and the man. Her heart tripped.
Ethan.
She rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck. His hands came around her back. She felt the chain graze her waist and realized he was shackled to the wall.
She drew back but couldn’t let him go. She clasped his shoulders as she studied his face. He looked untouched, his face as handsome as ever. “You’re all right?”
“No.” The word was low and dark.
She clutched at him, digging her fingers into the silk of his waistcoat. “What have they done to you?” She moved one hand down over his chest, lightly rubbing as she searched for some sign of injury.
His hand came over hers, stilling her movements. “I’m not all right because you’re here. Why the hell have you come back?” He hissed the question at her instead of yelling it, but his fury was evident in the set of his mouth and the glacial tint to his eyes.
“To save you.”
“Keep your voice down!” Again, he spoke quietly but with a clear tone of angry authority. “You can’t save me.”
She touched his face, her heart aching at the sacrifice he’d been ready to make for her. “I’m not alone.”
He ran his hand through his black hair, tousling it and reminding her of what he looked like in the morning. “Blood of Christ. I suppose my brother’s involved. Tell me he isn’t here.”
“No. They’ll come tomorrow”—she refused to think about all the things that could go wrong—“when they take you outside.”
“You came alone?”
She didn’t think he could sound any angrier, but she’d been mistaken. “Jason’s manservant, Scot, escorted me here.”
“I know who Scot is,” he growled. “And he’ll be the first one I thrash if their ridiculous plan works. Though, given that you’ve ended up in here with me, I have to assume it won’t.”
Audrey pressed her lips together. It was a good thing she was used to having enough optimism for the both of them. “I can see how it’s going to be for the rest of our lives. You always seeing how things will fail, and me patiently explaining to you how they will not. How together we can overcome anything.”
His features relaxed a bit as some of the ire dissipated in his eyes. He exhaled. “Audrey, I would dearly love for you to spend the rest of our lives proving me utterly wrongheaded. However, you must accept that may not be possible.”
Where was the man who survived at any cost? “I accept no such thing. You think our plan isn’t working, but I’m here. With you. Just as I intended to be.”
“An utterly foolish move.”
“No. I’m not foolish.” She lifted her skirt and pulled the knife from her boot. Then she flashed the pistol against her thigh. “I’m armed.”
He sucked in air between his teeth. “Holy hell, Audrey.”
“I came to inform you of the plan and to give you a knife. The pistol is for me.” She dropped her skirt and held the blade in her palm. “There will be an uprising of support for you. When they march you outside, we’ll get you away from Gin Jimmy.”
He seemed to relax a bit. “Yes, that is how I hoped it might work. Minus your participation. I’m going to gleefully kill Carlyle.”
She caressed his cheek. “You’ll do no such thing. You’re a new man, remember?”
He took the knife from her. “I doubt there’ll be an ‘uprising’ of any kind.”
She hated his defeatism. “Try to have some faith—I know it’s not something you’re used to. I saw how many of Jimmy’s men were conflicted when you were trying to persuade them to your cause. I’m confident we’ll be able to rouse enough support to free you.”
He cradled the side of her face and leaned in close. “And what if you don’t?” he whispered, so near she could almost taste him. “If the plan fails and I am hanged, what will happen to you, my love? What danger have you put yourself in for me? I don’t deserve your kindness. Or your love.”
Her heart was creaking beneath the weight of his words, but she wouldn’t show it. “Still, you have it. My love—all I have to give is yours.”
“Audrey,” he breathed. �
��Jimmy isn’t going to let me go without a fight. He’s ruthless on his best day, but to him, my defection—if you want to call it that, and he does—is personal. Is one of you prepared to kill him? Because that’s what it will take to set me free.”
She knew he was asking if she was prepared to kill him. “Why is it so personal?”
Ethan let go of her and backed up against the wall. He turned the knife between his fingers, his movements adept and strangely soothing to watch. “He was the only person who believed in me, even if it was for the wrong reasons. He taught me how to defend myself and how to be a damned good thief. There are many times he saved my life—and I his. He was as much a father to me as my own before he died.”
She heard the pain and also the nostalgia in his voice. How difficult it must be to have loved—or maybe even still love—someone so horrible. But he hadn’t been horrible to Ethan. At least not until now. “You’re certain he wouldn’t have just allowed you to leave?”
“No, and he affirmed that last night. I regret that it took me so long to see that relationship for what it was . . . ” He shook his head, his hand stilled. “Twisted.”
She resisted the urge to touch him, sensing he needed space, if just for a moment. “He was all you had. I understand, Ethan. Stop blaming yourself for past mistakes. What’s important is who you are now.”
“Your faith in me is relentless.” He pierced her with his familiar, provocative stare. “Tell me this plan of yours.”
“I have a helper inside the Cup and Burrow. She’s seeking assistance for us right now.”
He arched a brow at her.
Audrey swatted at his shoulder. “Stop being so skeptical! Will you accept for even a moment that other people might have your best interests at heart and others will rise to the occasion? Or must you believe the worst of everyone?”
His brow climbed even higher. “Since I think you know how I’ll answer that, I’ll just be quiet.” This banter reminded her of their time together after they’d fled London. She didn’t want it to end.
