by Merry Farmer
“We will,” Stephen said without a shred of doubt. “I love Jane. She is my responsibility. And every other child. I won’t rest until they’re safe.”
“Does that include investigating Gretton Mill in Leicestershire?” Wrexham asked. They’d reached the carriage and climbed inside. Once they were settled, Wrexham went on with, “I’m Metropolitan Police. They won’t let me outside of London, not for this.”
Stephen sighed at the injustice of it all and nodded. “I’ll do what I have to do.”
Wrexham dropped him back at the orphanage. They were silent through the whole trip, lost in their thoughts. Stephen felt as though he had the weight of the world pressing down on him. Jane was out there somewhere, but time was ticking down. He wasn’t fool enough to think that whoever had taken her would keep her wherever she was indefinitely. But he refused to let himself believe it was too late.
His thoughts were a ragged turmoil as he alighted from Wrexham’s carriage and crossed through the front door of the orphanage. He didn’t pick up on how quiet the place was until he marched into the great hall, sniffing one of his sleeves and wondering if he would have to burn the entire suit of clothes if Annie couldn't get the stench of the docks out, and came face to face with Lord Eastleigh.
“Good God,” Max’s father choked, grimacing and pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to hold to his mouth and nose. “I knew you were detestable, but I had no idea to what extent.”
Stephen ignored the slight, pulling himself to his full height as though he smelled of roses. “Your grace,” he said in a tight voice, nodding with far less deference than the man likely thought was due him. “What brings you to our humble establishment today?”
Lord Eastleigh paid as little attention to Stephen’s greeting as Stephen had paid to his cruel slight. “I’ve come to tell you that my son entered an engagement to Lady Bardess this morning,” he said, a flash of victory in his eyes. “An arrangement he entered into willingly and eagerly, I might add.”
Try as he did to dismiss the man’s words, he felt as though he’d taken a knife to the heart. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything in response.
“Furthermore,” Lord Eastleigh went on, “if you seek to disrupt this arrangement or to even contact my son ever again, I will ensure that your orphanage loses all possibility of patronage.”
“Yes,” Stephen said in a hoarse voice. “So you told me before.”
“And you didn’t listen.” Lord Eastleigh narrowed his eyes. He stepped in closer and whispered, “I know where my son was last night.”
A paradoxical feeling of pride filled Stephen. Max had been with him, in spite of his father’s efforts to control his life. Their love had proven itself to be more powerful than Lord Eastleigh’s treachery.
Moments later, that feeling of pride collapsed. He and Max had won a minor battle, but Lord Eastleigh seemed poised to win the war. And the more attention Stephen gave to the fight, the less he would have for his girls, for Jane.
“My son will have nothing to do with you, do you understand?” Lord Eastleigh said, backing away and sneering at Stephen.
Stephen said nothing. He glanced past Max’s father to where Mrs. Ross and Annie stood, watching the confrontation with wide, frightened eyes. In all the time he’d known her, nothing had ever put that look on Mrs. Ross’s face. Stephen could only thank God that most of his girls were apparently tucked away in their classrooms, though Beatrice and some of the older girls watched the whole encounter from the far end of one of the tables, where they were studying. Stephen could only imagine the sort of education those girls were getting about the ways of the world at that moment.
“I cannot control your son,” Stephen said at last, weighing his words carefully. “He is his own man. I will not stand in his way, no matter what he decides to do.”
His words were vague enough that Lord Eastleigh narrowed his eyes, seeming not to be able to make out exactly what Stephen was saying. “I have warned you twice now,” he said in a low voice. “I will not warn you again.”
With that, the odious man marched straight past Stephen and into the hall, leaving the building without taking his leave or bothering to have someone show him out.
As soon as he was gone, Mrs. Ross and Annie let out the breaths they were holding. Annie burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. Mrs. Ross stepped forward, resting a hand on Stephen’s arm.
“I hate to say it, lad, but that man is more powerful than all of us put together,” she said. “I know it’ll kill you, but you have to think of the girls before you think of yourself.”
It was as if she’d spoken his thoughts aloud, though it stung him to his core to acknowledge it. Giving up Max would be like ripping his heart out and tossing it onto the trash heap, but it was becoming clearer and clearer that it was something he would have to do. Especially if Max had already seen the truth of things himself. Why else would he have consented to marry Lady Bardess?
“Officer Wrexham and I managed to find something that might be a clue as to the whereabouts of more children,” he said in a rough voice, deliberately skating away from anything that had to do with Max or his crumbling heart.
“You know where Jane is?” Mrs. Ross asked, following him as he left the great hall and headed back to his own room to bathe and change.
“No,” he admitted, heart heavy. “Not exactly. But I intend to investigate on the chance that she and the others were taken to Leicestershire.”
“Leicestershire?” Mrs. Ross shook her head. “Why would they be there?”
“We found the address of a mill,” Stephen said, sparing her the details that he would have done anything not to recall again for the rest of his life.
“What sort of mill?” Mrs. Ross asked.
Stephen shrugged as he opened the door to his room. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I’ll be making a trip up north as soon as possible to find out.”
“Do you need me to help make arrangements?” Mrs. Ross asked, helping him remove his coat and screwing up her face as she did.
“Possibly,” Stephen said. “But there’s one other person who might be able to help me as well. I need clean, presentable evening clothes,” he went on. “I have to go to the club.”
Chapter 16
The offices of Dandie & Wirth were closed when Max reached them after his harrowing morning with his father, George, and Lady Bardess. Finding the door locked and a small sign reading, “Back this afternoon” hanging on the doorknob nearly frayed the last of Max’s overtaxed nerves. He stood in the hallway outside of the office for a few minutes, bristling with impatience and feeling like his life was on the verge of cracking apart.
He wouldn’t ever marry Lady Bardess. That much was certain. Perhaps, if he hadn’t met Stephen, he would have been able to go through with it, but now the whole idea was repulsive. The trouble was that if he defied his father outright, if he made any sort of public declaration or even committed himself to Stephen privately, there was no doubt that his father would use every spiteful bone in his body to ruin Stephen, his orphanage, and his girls.
He couldn’t let that happen, even if it meant sacrificing himself by moving abroad. He could only hope it wouldn’t come to that, though.
Nerves still twisting, he left Dandie & Wirth, headed to the only place he could think of where David Wirth or Lionel Mercer might be found or where he might be able to get the help he needed.
When he arrived, the Chameleon Club was busy with afternoon guests taking tea or simply spending time with friends. The aura of calm that pervaded the establishment was a far cry from Max’s inner turmoil, but it was exactly the thing he needed. His shallow breathing steadied and deepened as he strode through the lobby and on to the main hall. A few men of his acquaintance were lounging around the massive space where the ball had been held what seemed like a lifetime ago, but most of the members who were present would be in the dining room farther down the hall.
Max nearly wept with relief when he s
potted Lionel Mercer sitting alone at one of the dining room’s tables near a window. The man was like a plant in his need to sit in some sort of light, which made his pale skin all the more noticeable. The room buzzed with the chatter of a dozen conversations as friends and acquaintances enjoyed tea or luncheon together. Max even spotted Everett Jewel seated at the table next to Lionel, in some sort of uncharacteristically serious conversation with a tall, thin man who had a notebook of some sort open on the table in front of him. Lionel sat alone with his back toward Jewel, but he seemed far too alert and irritated to be lost in his own thoughts, which made Max feel less guilty about intruding.
“May I have this seat?” he asked as he approached Lionel’s table.
Lionel’s dampened expression transformed into a broad smile of greeting. “Of course, Lord Hillsboro. Please join me.”
As Max helped himself to a seat at Lionel’s table, he caught Lionel glancing slightly over his shoulder, as if to judge whether Jewel and his friend were aware of Max’s arrival. Indeed, Jewel looked up from his conversation, meeting Max’s eye, and nodding with a grin that could only be described as amused.
Lionel turned fully around to glare at Jewel before facing Max, his mouth flattening into a tight line. “Show off,” he muttered. “Don’t pay him any mind. He feels the need to flirt with anything that moves.”
Max couldn’t help but smirk in spite of his frayed nerves. “Jealous?” he asked.
From the shock that spread across Lionel’s face, Max would have thought he’d thrown a glass of red wine at the man. “Certainly not,” Lionel hissed. “I could never be jealous of an overbearing, preening, arrogant, attention whore like that.”
Jewel and the man with him laughed. Max doubted they’d heard Lionel’s string of insults, but whatever had amused them, it caused splotches of red to break out on Lionel’s porcelain cheeks.
“I dropped by your office just now,” Max said, feeling it was wise to get straight to business before Lionel became too distracted by whatever feud he had with Jewel to be of any help. “It was closed. I’m glad I guessed correctly about where at least one of you might be.”
“David will be along soon,” Lionel said, rolling his shoulders slightly and sitting straighter, as though he knew exactly what sort of fool he was making of himself and was attempting to correct that. “He had to visit a client at home about a particularly delicate matter.”
Max nodded, respecting whatever confidentiality the man had with his client. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure of how much of Dandie & Wirth’s business Lionel handled. There couldn’t be much harm in confiding in the man until David showed up.
“I have a bit of gossip you might not have heard yet,” Max began in a way he knew would pique Lionel’s interest.
“Oh?” Lionel brightened, seeming to forget the inhabitants of the table behind him. Although Jewel glanced covertly in Max’s direction. “I love gossip I haven’t heard yet.”
It gave Max no pleasure at all to say, “Lady Bardess is engaged.”
“Do tell.” Lionel perked up even more.
“To me,” Max admitted with a growl. “Against my wishes, I might add.”
Lionel’s mouth hung open for a moment before his shoulders sagged and thunderclouds filled his expression. “I take it this is your father’s doing?”
“It is,” Max said, a fresh wave of fury tightening his chest.
Lionel uttered an exceptionally colorful curse under his breath. “I am so tired of our kind being pushed around and thrown into alliances we neither want nor can tolerate.”
Jewel sat straighter at the table behind them, and his companion turned slightly, proving they were both listening.
Max met Jewel’s eyes for half a second before focusing on Lionel. “I have no intention of going through with it, mind you,” he said.
“Because you’re in love with Siddel,” Lionel said as if finishing his thought. His features softened momentarily before hardening all over again. “Has your father threatened him and his delightful little charges?”
“On more than one occasion now,” Max sighed. “Which puts me in an impossible spot.”
Lionel hummed in agreement, sitting back in his chair and stroking his chin. “There has to be a way out of it. There’s always a way out, if you’re willing to take it.”
“I certainly hope so,” Max said, leaning into the table and resting his hands on the tablecloth. “That’s not why I was looking for David, though.” When Lionel raised one eyebrow in question, Max went on with, “I have reason to believe my father, and possibly my drunken lout of a brother, are somehow involved in the kidnapping ring.”
Lionel snapped straight so fast Max was afraid he’d fall out of his chair. But, of course, falling out of a chair was far too graceless for Lionel Mercer. What surprised Max was the way Jewel reacted. Every trace of snide humor dropped from the man’s face, replaced by intense horror and interest. Lionel wasn’t able to see Jewel’s reaction, and Max wasn’t eager to point it out for fear of distracting Lionel from the important matter at hand.
“What did he say?” Lionel asked. “Did he give specifics?”
Max shook his head, suddenly doubting his intuition. “It wasn’t anything he said specifically. Only, he reminded me that he is close friends with Lord Chisolm and his son. He was at Bardess Mansion this morning before I arrived there, intent on speaking to Lady Bardess about the events of the concert where the children went missing, or so I gathered. My father seemed to know where Lord Chisolm and Lord Burbage are.”
“Where are they?” Lionel asked, his eyes growing round.
“Abroad,” Max growled. “The Caribbean, if Lady Bardess’s slip of the tongue is to be believed. I’m not sure she is, though. She was highly agitated the whole time my father was there, which is another reason I believe the bastard is up to no good.”
“My money is on Lillian Bardess being as guilty as anyone else in this whole affair,” Lionel said, his brow furrowing. “I do agree that it’s damning that your father knows Lord Chisolm’s whereabouts when no one else does.”
“There’s more,” Max went on. “Though I’m not sure how it’s all connected. My father knows about me and Stephen. He threatened that if I continue my relationship with Stephen, he will make certain the Briar Street Orphanage suffers and implied that the girls would be sent to places that would give us all nightmares.”
Jewel jerked as though he would rise out of his seat. “I’ve heard enough,” he said in a loud enough voice that Lionel was forced to twist to face him, clenching his jaw as he did. “I won’t let you keep me out of this investigation any longer, Lionel,” Jewel went on. “You know I can help you in ways no one else can.”
“Mind your own business, Jewel,” Lionel hissed. “We all know that the only thing you care about is your own reputation and the spotlight that being part of this investigation will shine on you.”
“This is not about my ego,” Jewel insisted. “Though I’m beginning to think it’s about yours.”
Lionel’s jaw dropped as he twisted to glare at Jewel. “I would never put my own interests ahead of those of innocent, defenseless children,” he said, so angry his words came out as a whisper.
Max believed him. He also believed Jewel when he said, “You know that I have contacts in the underworld that you will never have access too. You need me in this.” He paused, then added in the gravest voice Max had ever heard, “And you know why.”
The two men sat there, glaring at each other in silence. The intensity of their stares had the hair standing up on the back of Max’s neck. He had the feeling that whatever Jewel was referring to, he didn’t want to know about it.
His already heightened tension nearly snapped when Stephen’s voice sounded directly behind him with, “I’m surprised to see you here.”
Max jumped, whipping around to find Stephen staring at him with a cold and distant look. “Stephen.” He leapt from his chair, but resisted the urge to embrace him. Somethi
ng was wrong. The warmth had gone out of Stephen’s eyes, and he held himself stiffly. “I came in search of David Wirth.” Max glanced past Stephen to find David striding into the room.
Stephen sent David a look. “I met him as I came into the club.”
“This looks like a meeting I won’t want to miss,” David said, reaching to shake Max’s hand, nodding to Lionel, and sending a wary glance to Jewel and his companion. “Cristofori.” He nodded to Jewel’s friend, who nodded back. Max found David’s presence settling, particularly since the man instantly gauged the situation in front of him and seemed to sense how volatile it was. “What’s going on?”
“I want in on this investigation,” Jewel said, rising from his seat and stepping around Mr. Cristofori to stride to David’s side.
“He wants another starring role,” Lionel countered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “This one thinks his father is involved in the ring,” he added, nodding to Max.
For a moment, Stephen’s expression registered surprise. A moment later, it darkened into a scowl. “Your father paid me a visit this morning,” he told Max. “He advised me of your upcoming wedding.”
Max clenched his jaw tight, furious for a thousand different reasons. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.” Stephen narrowed his eyes.
The intensity of his displeasure sent acid pouring through Max’s stomach, not so much because he thought Stephen believed everything his father must have said, but because the same defensiveness that Max had worked so hard to break through weeks ago was back in place.
Before Max could think of anything to say to fight against that defensiveness, Stephen glanced from Lionel to David and went on with, “Officer Wrexham and I toured the warehouse where the children you rescued were stored before being taken to the ship this morning. We found evidence that could indicate the involvement of a place called Gretton Mill in Leicestershire.”
