by Darcy Burke
Jagger was roughly the same age as Daniel, maybe slightly younger, which was notable given his status. But then he’d been on the streets almost half his life—or so Daniel had gathered after many years of investigating Gin Jimmy’s sergeants—and had worked hard to achieve his rank. With jet-black hair and piercing gray eyes, Jagger was as cold and harsh as they came, but he also possessed an intelligence that would rival any barrister or official Daniel had met. It was too bad the criminal had taken the path he had. From what Daniel knew, his life could’ve been vastly different.
“If it isn’t Mr. Carlyle,” Jagger drawled. His brow arched, and he sat forward in his chair. “No! You’re Lord Carlyle now, aren’t you? What the devil are you doing in St. Giles?”
“Mind if I sit?” Daniel asked, grasping the back of a chair.
“Not at all. Whisky?” Jagger picked up the bottle in front of him and reached for an empty glass. The Crystal prided itself on fancy glass tumblers that were supposed to be reminiscent of the gentlemen’s clubs in St. James.
“No gin?” Daniel preferred whisky, but gin, due to its quantity, was usually the drink of choice in St. Giles.
“Not at my table. I’ve taken to drinking whisky of late.” Jagger poured him a glass, and one of his henchmen slid it across the table to Daniel.
Daniel glanced around the table and held up his glass in mock toast before taking a healthy swallow. “It’s quite good. From your personal supply?”
The corner of Jagger’s mouth hitched up. “Of course.”
Daniel set his glass back on the table. “May we speak privately?”
“Certainly.” Jagger nodded at the other four men around the table. They stood and departed without a word.
Jagger leaned back in his chair so that his head rested against the wall. “What do you want to know?”
It made sense that Jagger would assume he was here for information. The only other kind of help he provided was financial in nature, and Daniel would never want to owe money to the likes of him.
Though he despised sitting with his back to the door, Daniel knew Jagger would see his vulnerability as an expression of confidence. He expected Jagger to have his back, and because of that, Jagger would. So Daniel settled into his chair. “I’m looking for Nicky Blue.”
Jagger sipped his whisky. He kept the glass cradled in his palm as he addressed Daniel. “I haven’t seen him tonight.”
“Can you tell me where to find him? Or, better yet,” Daniel withdrew the knife from his coat pocket and set it atop the table so Jagger could see it, “can you tell me how I came to find his weapon under a bed in a house in Mayfair?”
Daniel hadn’t shown the knife at any of the other flash houses, but he was certain Jagger would recognize the distinctive piece. The question was whether Daniel could get the criminal to work with him, or if he’d claim he’d never seen it.
Jagger barely glanced at the blade. “Maybe because Nicky was shagging a Society widow?” He laughed, then sobered when Daniel didn’t laugh with him. “No sense of humor tonight? How dull. Why would I know what his knife was doing in Mayfair?”
“Because you oversee Nicky’s crew.” Daniel sat forward slightly. “Let’s not play games. I’m not a constable anymore. I’m trying to help a friend find some things that were stolen from her two years ago.”
Lifting his shoulder, Jagger maintained his aloof expression. “That’s very kind of you to help someone in need, but I fail to see why I should care.”
Daniel eyed the man in his rich costume that was paid for by criminal activity. Like his cohorts, Jagger dressed to intimidate, but unlike them he wasn’t garish. Except for the two rings he wore on each hand—which was excessive by fashionable standards—he looked as if he could be in any Mayfair ballroom. Indeed, if he were so inclined, he could probably march right into one tonight and claim his place. “Because deep down you might like to help someone too. Have you forgotten I know who you really are? Where you come from?”
Jagger suddenly snapped to attention, his eyes hardening. “What’s more important is that you don’t forget who I am now.” He stared at Daniel, letting the threat stand for a long moment.
“Because I am a trifle more benevolent than most, and because I can appreciate wanting to help a young woman,” he cast him a knowing glance, “I’ll tell you that Nicky targets houses in Mayfair.”
Daniel had figured as much and opened his mouth to say so, but Jagger held up a hand. “Don’t interrupt,” he said, “I’m not finished. His targets are always successful because he knows precisely where to strike.”
Suddenly Daniel understood. Nicky Blue had a man—or woman—on the inside. “He has intelligence on where to go and when.”
Jagger gave a single nod, then scanned the room behind Daniel, something a criminal like him always did as a means of defense.
“I don’t suppose you’d tell me who?”
Jagger blinked innocently. “Who what?”
Right. “If I give you a name and I’m correct, just remain silent.” Daniel’s neck muscles bunched with anxiety. He dreaded the answer, but he had to know. “Aldridge.”
Jagger slowly brought his whisky glass to his lips and took a long drink, his eyes never leaving Daniel’s.
Damn. Aldridge had clearly at least purchased stolen goods, but to be part of the actual theft? Daniel’s stomach briefly clenched in disbelief before anger wiped away all other emotion. The earl had been his friend, his mentor. They’d plotted together on how to improve the city’s police. Daniel had shared so many things about his life as a constable—how much of that information had Aldridge used to further his own criminal interests? And how in the hell had he gotten mixed up in all of this in the first place?
“I’ll expect something in return,” Jagger said, drawing Daniel’s attention from his inner turmoil.
He wasn’t surprised Jagger would want something. It was the way things worked. How many times had Daniel been forced to turn his head in exchange for the greater good—ignoring smaller crimes so that he could go after bigger ones? “What do you want?”
Jagger lifted a shoulder as he again surveyed the room behind Daniel. “I’m not certain yet, but I’ll let you know.”
“Just remember, I’m not a constable anymore.”
Jagger smiled blandly. “I’m well aware of that.”
Daniel decided it was time to invoke a bit of the constable still left in him. He laid his palm flat on the table and speared Jagger with his most intimidating stare. “How does Aldridge communicate his information? Tell me that, and I’ll do whatever you need.” God, how he hated making such promises, but if it meant he could take down Aldridge, he’d do it.
Jagger’s eyes lit with merriment. “You always had an excellent reputation here. I see Society hasn’t softened your instincts. To answer your question, he sends a coded note. I’ll see that you get the information contained in the next one. But I’ll need that knife to coax Nicky to let me see it.”
Daniel’s blood surged with victory. “It’s yours.” He tossed back the rest of his whisky and stood. “Thank you for the drink.”
“Out of curiosity, who’s the woman? I imagine she must be worth quite a lot to you if you’re willing to dip your toes back into this sordid life.”
Daniel nearly laughed. As if he’d tell him. Jagger had a reputation for using people to reach his own ends. “Thank you again.”
Jagger’s eyes gleamed devilishly. “It’s all right. You know I can learn anything I desire.”
Every shred of Daniel’s good humor fled in the face of his sudden fury. Jocelyn had been victimized, and he’d be damned if he let Jagger even speak her name. He stepped around the table, closer to Jagger, and glared down at him. “If I hear so much as a syllable of her name from your lips, or see you or any of your associates in her proximity, I’ll not only forget I ever agreed to help you, I’ll make it my life’s goal to see you hang.” He let his threat gather momentum, just as Jagger had done. Then he bared his te
eth in a vicious smile. “Given all you’ve done, I don’t think it will be too difficult.” He exhaled and straightened his coat, though it didn’t require adjustment. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
Then he turned and stalked from the flash house, his back prickling slightly under the stares of Jagger’s henchmen, who’d approached the table as soon as Daniel had moved toward their boss.
Outside, he made his way out of the rookery. He’d planned to attend a ball, but he didn’t want to run the risk of seeing Aldridge. Such an encounter could prove quite detrimental to the man who’d played Daniel for a fool.
He suddenly wanted to go directly to Jocelyn’s house so he could tell her what he’d learned. He’d also apologize for pulling away and beg her forgiveness for listening to even an iota of Aldridge’s lies. Then he’d take her in his arms and finish what she’d started …
But no, he wouldn’t do that. It was quite late, and she deserved a real courtship with a real proposal of marriage. His step lightened as he considered how he might ask her.
Chapter Nine
THE FOLLOWING afternoon as Jocelyn was reviewing Mrs. Harwood’s invitations in the upstairs sitting room, Moss interrupted to tell her she had a guest: Lord Aldridge.
“I’ve shown him to the front sitting room, Miss Renwick,” Moss said.
Her insides clenched upon hearing Lord Aldridge was here, but she was glad for the opportunity to put him on notice: Very soon he’d have to return the watch fob and why not do it now?
She rose from the desk. “Thank you, Moss.”
As she descended the stairs, she wondered why she hadn’t heard from Daniel yet. Given the way he’d left last night, she almost wondered if she’d ever hear from him again. Papa had always said her mouth would get her into trouble if she wasn’t careful, but she’d never imagined it would be because she’d kissed someone. She still inwardly cringed when she thought of her daring and Daniel’s subsequent departure.
She entered the sitting room to find Aldridge standing near the fireplace, his forehead creased and his mouth drawn into a pinched frown.
“Miss Renwick.” He said her name without an ounce of pleasantry. Indeed, it sounded rather like an epithet.
Jocelyn’s shoulders bunched up as tension coiled through her frame. “My lord.”
“I’ve come to discuss your ridiculous allegations regarding my property, as well as your scandalous relationship with Lord Carlyle.”
Scandalous? Oh no, what had Daniel told him? She worked to keep from blushing of embarrassment and instead focused on the first thing the earl had said. “We both know it’s my property, including the watch fob you were wearing yesterday. It belonged to my father.”
He flushed scarlet and his eyes narrowed. “You are a pest, do you know that, Miss Renwick? Like a rat that continues to invade one’s scullery.”
Jocelyn was rendered momentarily speechless, which was quite a feat. She found her anger—and her tongue—and said, “Insult me all you like. We both know you stole my things. And more importantly, Daniel knows it too.” She tried to bite back the words. She hadn’t meant to reveal Daniel’s support, but the earl’s rudeness had provoked her reckless tongue. Again. She tried not to cringe.
Aldridge strode across the sitting room and closed the door. A chill snaked down Jocelyn’s spine. He stalked toward her, stopping just in front of her. “What precisely did you tell him?” he asked softly.
She notched up her chin, looking for the courage that had suddenly ebbed from her frame. “That you saw fit to have our town house ransacked the other day.”
He didn’t look the least perturbed by her revelation, merely cocked his head to the side. “If he’s mounting evidence against anyone, I’d beware; it might be you. That’s why I came here today. Carlyle is fully aware of how I obtained these items. He’s the one who put me in touch with the fence who sold them to me.”
Jocelyn gaped at his smug smile. It couldn’t be true. Daniel had wanted to help her, certainly not implicate her. He’d seemed so excited last night when she’d given him the knife. But he hadn’t sent any news since then. And there was the troubling way he’d retreated from their embrace. A bead of doubt wedged itself into her mind and took hold.
The earl’s mouth remained curved up in that nauseating smile, and his eyes glinted with glee. “Carlyle has kept all of his old contacts. I know he maintains a relationship with at least one fence—a woman named Odette who owns a flash house in St. Giles.”
“Relationship”? What sort of relationship? Was that why he’d pulled away from her last night? Jocelyn felt sick. All she could think to say was, “Daniel was a constable.”
“And like so many of our police force, he’s corrupt.” He shook his head and held up his palm while lifting his shoulder. “It’s simply the way of things, gel.”
Jocelyn’s knees weakened, but she refused to show her disappointment. She couldn’t believe Daniel would do anything Aldridge was saying, but how well did she really know him? Not at all, she realized.
“Now, if I were you, I’d take myself back to my little village in Kent and forget about all of this nonsense. I’m feeling benevolent enough to give you the watch fob. I always found it a trifle mundane for my taste, anyway.” He withdrew the treasure from his pocket, and she thrust out her hand to accept it. When the weight filled her palm, she closed her fingers around it and just barely kept herself from punching Aldridge in the face with it.
“I’d also advise you not to mention this conversation to anyone, especially Carlyle. Those who have proposed his behavior is less than lawful have sometimes disappeared.”
What on earth was he suggesting now? That Daniel murdered people? Or had them imprisoned? She simply couldn’t credit it. “You expect me to believe he’s that cold?”
Aldridge shrugged. “Believe what you like. However, if you tell him what I told you, he’ll deny it.” He leaned forward and added, “And then you’d better watch your back.”
She took a step back. “Are you threatening me?”
“No, I’m helping you make an informed decision regarding what you do next. I suggest you stay as far away from me and ‘Daniel’ as possible.”
Her mind swarmed with everything Aldridge had told her. Daniel was corrupt? He was compiling evidence to implicate her as a thief? He’d ensure she “disappeared” if she revealed what Aldridge had told her? She didn’t want to believe any of it.
It was not lost on her that Aldridge would benefit from her keeping silent and leaving London. But how much did she really know about Daniel?
She tucked the watch fob into her pocket with fingers that shook more than she wanted. “Thank you for returning my property, my lord. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She gestured to the door, indicating he should leave. But he didn’t. Instead, he moved close enough that she could see the pores on his face.
“Don’t be foolish, Miss Renwick,” he said in a low, sinister voice.” I hope you’ll heed my advice.” She stepped back, and her hands involuntarily came up in a defensive posture. His lip curled before he spun around and quit first the sitting room and then the town house.
Jocelyn let out the breath she’d apparently been holding, and most of the tension left her body. It was time to find out once and for all if Daniel was the monster Aldridge described or the man she was falling in love with.
TODAY had not gone as planned. Daniel had intended to visit Jocelyn early this afternoon to propose marriage, an endeavor he’d delightfully orchestrated last night during his walk back to the Silver Unicorn, where he’d meant to catch a hack. However, a brawl inside Odette’s establishment had drawn him into the flash house.
A gang of older boys had become quite unruly, and Daniel’s inner constable hadn’t been able to walk away. Trying to instill peace, he’d ended up getting dragged into the fight. Ultimately, two officers had arrived, and together they’d put an end to the disturbance. Some of the lads had been carted off to Newgate, while the others ha
d dispersed. It had been dawn before Daniel finally returned to his home and fallen into bed. Now it was midafternoon, and he was scrambling to get to Jocelyn’s.
At last, he was making his way downstairs when he heard his butler talking with someone in the foyer. He turned onto the landing and saw Jocelyn standing in the middle of his marble floor. Garbed in a pale yellow dress with an ivory spencer and a comely bonnet, she was the picture of vibrancy and beauty. He increased his pace down the last few stairs.
And then stopped short.
She didn’t look nearly as happy to see him as he was to see her. Yet she’d come here.
“My lord, Miss Henwick is here,” Goring, his aging butler, intoned.
Henwick? Daniel wouldn’t correct the man. “Yes, thank you,” he responded with a touch of irony.
Goring inclined his head. “Shall I see her out?”
Not for the first time, Daniel worried the man might be ripe for retirement. He’d discuss it with his secretary.
Daniel gave his butler an encouraging smile. “I think I’ll just take her along with me.”
“Of course, my lord.” Goring took himself off, likely to nap in a chair tucked under the stairs. Yes, probably time to broach the subject of retirement. For the thousandth time, Daniel reflected on the responsibility he now carried and how it had all come to pass.
Then he focused on Jocelyn and was grateful it had. “I’m pleased to see you this afternoon. In fact, I was just on my way to see you.”
She blinked, looking a bit startled. “Indeed?” Then her features relaxed into … relief?
He led her from the foyer up the stairs to the sitting room, which overlooked Brook Street. “Shall I ring for tea?” he asked, thinking he should’ve just asked Goring for it. One of these days he’d master the nuances of household management.
