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  Lucinda addressed Jane again, her eyes widening. “Find Addie.”

  “Aye, my lady,” Jane said, taking off to complete the task when another ruckus broke out.

  All of them followed the commotion through the kitchen and out the side door. There Addie’s nephew, Oliver was tending to an elderly man lying wounded in his wagon. The older fellow was dressed in a faded tuxedo, his shirt stained with blood that seeped from a large gash in his chest.

  “Top Hat Tom.” Lucinda approached the wagon. “What has happened?”

  The old man coughed and choked for air.

  “I found ’im bleedin’ in the ally when I returned for Miss Riley,” Oliver explained.

  “And what ally is this?”

  Oliver flushed. “The one I dropped ’er off at, my lady.”

  “Damn fool girl went to meet him alone,” Lucinda said.

  “Who was this man she was meeting?” Gabriel suddenly felt an unexplained jealous rage rush through his veins.

  “One who claimed to be her father,” Lucinda explained.

  Gabriel’s angry glance went to Oliver. “And you had no thought of the danger Riley could be in traveling alone, that you failed to tell me what she was up to?”

  Oliver raised a defiant chin. “She weren’t travelin’ alone, sir. I was with ’er.”

  Gabriel frowned. “And did you stay with her?”

  Oliver cast his eyes to his feet. “Nay, sir.”

  Addie pinched her nephew’s arm. “And where is Miss Riley now?”

  “I dunno. All I found was Tom crawlin’ from the ally, bleedin’ from ’is chest.”

  “And after seeing Tom injured, you didn’t bother to search for Riley?” his voice thundered.

  “I couldn’t think of nothin’ but gettin’ ’elp for ole Tom,” Oliver blurted, his voice rough with anxiety.

  “’Tis a child’s way ye think, so ’tis a child’s discipline ye’ll get.” Addie grabbed Oliver by the ear. “’Tis to the stables with ye now, for a good birchin’ across yer bared bum.”

  Oliver’s face turned a deep shade of red as he twisted out of her grasp. “I’m too old for ye to be still doin’ that, Auntie.”

  “If anything has happened to Riley, I’ll beat you myself.”

  “Let’s all calm down and see what this elder chap can tell us,” Simon advised.

  Both Simon and Gabriel helped Tom from the wagon and brought him into the library, laying him down upon the sofa while Jane ran for clean cloths and a basin of water.

  Opening Tom’s shirt revealed a deep wound. If it weren’t for the wallet hidden in a vest pocket taking the brunt of the attack, it could have been fatal. Jane pulled it free, handing the sliced billfold to Gabriel.

  He opened the wallet to discover a wad of money and the real owner’s identification. Arching a brow at Tom, he placed the wallet aside.

  “One’s got to eat,” Tom said, coming to his own defense. “And I ain’t as agile as I used to be, so my meals aren’t all that regular.”

  “Well, this time your skills, agile or not, seem to have saved your life,” Lucinda commented. “Although it’s obvious you’re going to need stitches to close that wound.” She motioned to Regis, who stood behind the sofa looking down at Tom. “Have Charles bring the doctor.”

  Regis inclined his head politely. “Aye, my lady.”

  After Tom’s wound was cleaned and bandaged to the best of Jane’s ability, she propped a pillow behind his head and gave him a sip of wine.

  Gabriel then questioned the elderly man. “What happened in the ally, Tom?”

  “’Tis all my fault Miss Riley is gone,” Top Hat groaned.

  “I doubt that, Tom,” Lucinda comforted, taking a seat on a nearby chair. “You’ve done nothing but care for and protect Riley.”

  “But I let my guard down, trusted Naomi, needed ’er ’elp since I’ve been ailin’. The trouble makin’ twit found a letter I’ve been savin’ all these years,” he said, reaching into his pants pocket with a shaky, blood-stained hand. He passed the wrinkled correspondence to Lucinda. “I wasn’t too worried because Naomi can’t read, but she must ’ave found someone who could do the job for ’er. I believe she took the letter from me one night while I was asleep.” He looked away ashamed. “After a night in the pub, I sleep quite soundly.”

  Lucinda opened the letter, her eyes squinting for lack of her glasses, and read it. “It’s the last letter Anita received from Kevin Delaney.”

  “And this Kevin Delaney is the one who claims to be Riley’s father?” Gabriel said.

  “Not claimin’ to be...’e is Riley’s father.” Tom took another sip of wine from a glass Jane held to his lips. “And that bit o’ truth was only known by Lady Lucinda and me. But since I’ve been ailin’ and Naomi ’as been ’elpin’ me now and then, she discovered the letter.”

  “And then she conveniently came up with the story of meeting a man who is looking for Riley and claiming to be her father,” Lucinda concluded.

  “Aye, that’s the way of it, my lady,” Tom said. “I should ’ave seen through Naomi’s words, but then again I thought what could she gain by lyin’?”

  “Did you happen to have a chance to read the note Naomi sent to Riley this morning?” Gabriel inquired.

  Tom coughed and cleared his throat. “I did, sir. Like I said, Naomi can’t read, so I read it for her, and somethin’ did strike an uneven cord. The handwrittin’ on the note didn’t match Kevin Delaney’s last letter to Anita.”

  “Then why, in God’s name, did you allow Naomi to send the note to Riley?” Lucinda admonished.

  “Well, for one thing I didn’t know if ’twas Kevin Delaney who wrote all the letters ’e sent Anita in the first place. And on a second thought, if ’e was runnin’ from the law and headin’ for America after ’e met with Riley, like the note said, I figured Riley ’ad a right to see ’im one last time. So, I went along with the whole thing. But then I got worried. Thought ’e might be seein’ if ’e could ask Riley for money or ’elp, or somethin’ such as that. So as soon as I discovered where Naomi was plannin’ on meetin’ Riley, I followed ’er.”

  Lucinda frowned. “What could Naomi have gained by tricking Riley?”

  “We’ll never know the truth o’ that because Naomi ain’t gonna be able to tell us even if she wanted to. Fact is, she ain’t gonna be able to tell anyone anythin’ ever again.” Tom coughed once more. “They killed Naomi, ran a knife through ’er heart. Then they did the same to me. Didn’t want any witnesses, thought they left me for dead, except I’m too stubborn to die. Then they took Riley,” he choked out.

  Gabriel’s nerves tensed, and his heart sunk to his toes. “Who has done this? Who has taken Riley?”

  Tom gasped for breath. “The men in the red jackets...the scoundrels who take all the young women.” Tom groaned.

  Lucinda leaned forward and placed a hand on Tom’s arm. “What men in red jackets, Tom? I don’t understand what you are talking...”

  “I do,” the captain interrupted.

  Everyone turned to look at him.

  Simon’s mouth twisted in disdain. “I know who the red-jackets are. I even have an idea what sort of deal Naomi struck with them.” He took an audible breath. “And if what I am thinking is correct, it isn’t going to be easy getting Riley back...not easy at all.”

  Gabriel squared his shoulders. “I have accomplished not easy before.”

  “Let me re-phrase that, then.” Simon arched a brow. “How are you at accomplishing the impossible?”

  “I will not know that until I have tried. And make no mistake about it; I do not plan on failing.”

  Chapter Seven

  The floor’s dampness seeped through Riley’s cape, chilling her back and shoulders. She shivered and slowly opened her eyes. A shock of pain sliced through the center of her head, straight through to the back of her skull. Her ears buzzed, and her stomach lurched. She rolled onto her side and wretched. Warm liquid dripped from her nose, the red splotches p
ooling in her vomit.

  My nose is bleeding!

  When she raised a hand to wipe the blood away, she discovered both were bound together by rope. The tight knot cut into her wrists. She wiggled her fingers, now turning numb, and scooted away from the foul-smelling mess. Forcing herself into a sitting position, she focused on her surroundings.

  Her vision spun but then stilled on a stream of light coming from a small window. The tiny portal’s glass was shattered, and part of it was boarded up with a cracked plank of wood. The small opening was too high off the ground, almost reaching to the ceiling, and too tiny to escape through, but light from it helped her assess her whereabouts. She glanced at the brick wall, and as she watched a roach slip through the fractured mortar to whatever lay on the other side, she realized she had stared at the same scene once before.

  Riley swallowed the panic rising in her throat and took a calming breath...well, as calm as she could take after finding herself bound and bleeding. But she was still clear-headed enough to know she would do herself nay a shred of good if she surrendered to the fear creeping around the edges of her demeanor.

  Think, Riley. What is this place and when have you been here before?

  She sniffed. Smells always triggered the memory the most. The heavy scent of mildew and lye soap lingering in the air set the wheels in motion. She inhaled again, allowing the stale aroma to take her back to a time when she stood naked and wet in this very room.

  She was all but six years old at the time. Her mother, or rather her grandmother, as she recently learned was her relationship to Anita Flanders, worked as the laundresses for The Hotel Van Devere. The large Victorian mansion was an exclusive twenty-bedroom facility that catered to the discreet elite. Better known as the place where married men kept their mistresses.

  With Anita clutching her hand, the two would walk past floral-scented rooms where the occupants spent most of their time. Women dressed in lacy under garments would smile at Riley and say she was a sweet child. Sometimes they’d gift her with peppermint sticks, pastries, and ribbons for her hair, as she and Anita made their way down the hall and to the basement laundry room.

  On Thursday mornings Anita would heat up an extra basin of water, strip Riley of her dirty garments, and give her a bath. She’d fidget and fuss as the lye soap stung her tender flesh. Anita would scold her at first, but usually Riley didn’t stop her antics until a sharp slap was administered to her wet bum. Anita had work to do, and there was little time to spend bathing Riley, so tears and protests were ignored and the scrubbing continued until all the filth and grime that settled on her body was washed away.

  After her weekly cleansing, she stood, naked and cold, while Anita dried her with a towel. Other laundresses stood working and chatting around her, so there was no room for privacy. Her face would heat with shame, and she’d cast a glance to the worn wooden floor to escape those who watched, as Anita rubbed her flesh dry.

  She then had to sit wrapped in the towel for the remainder of the day, on a wooden table, bare feet curled beneath her, while her only pinafore and blouse were also being washed and dried.

  She hated the inconvenience of being poor. To have a bath, get the chance to eat a warm meal, or find a bed to sleep in was always at the mercy of others. Anita took what she could, when she could, for the two of them, and if that meant being bathed in the basement laundry room of a hotel, filled with watching eyes, then so be it. She was taken care of the best that could be, under the circumstances. Though her clothes were worn and torn, most of the time they were clean. Though her shoes had holes in the soles, they fit her feet. The coat she wore, a three-quarter length pelisse that buttoned down the front, might have been decades old in fashion and in need of great alterations to fit her child’s size, but it served its purpose. And sometimes she went hungry, but she never starved. It was Top Hat Tom who always made sure of that.

  Oh, Tom, I watched them stab you and Naomi to death.

  The scene of them lying in a pool of their own blood wrenched her heart. Tears welled in her eyes and overflowed down her cheeks as she mourned them both, even though Naomi set her up to believe Kevin Delaney came back to town and wished to see her. The woman she knew all her life was a traitor and had been promised payment to hand her over to a man in a red jacket. But the capture wasn’t as quick and easy as Naomi obviously anticipated.

  The man played a double-cross of his own, and the only payment Naomi received was a knife to the heart. Top Hat, who had come along to the meeting, looked uneasy while they waited for the man who claimed to be her father to arrive. Riley refused to believe Tom was in on the scheme, as he did his best to attack the kidnapper once chaos broke out. But being old and ill, Top Hat was no match for the other man and met the same fate as Naomi.

  Riley wanted to run, but her feet would not move. She wanted to scream, but her voice caught in her throat. So she just stood frozen, watching those she loved bleeding on the ally’s cold ground. Then the assailant turned on her, grabbed a fist full of her hair, and punched her in the face. It was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.

  The sound of men’s voices brought her back to the present. She would have to put her grief on hold for those who died today, as she needed instead to set her focus on getting free. Whoever her capturer was, he destroyed two lives in a blink of an eye and now held her fate as well. She forced her wobbly legs to stand and leaned against the door to listen to the conversation taking place on the opposite side.

  “Did you get rid of the blonde wench, the one called Naomi?” the first man asked.

  “Aye, Captain,” the second man responded. “I stabbed her through the heart with my blade. The old man they call Top Hat Tom as well. Both are dead. Their lips sealed for good.”

  She flinched at the cavalier way her friend’s lives had been snuffed out by this man.

  “Splendid, splendid,” the first man said. “Last thing I need are witnesses.”

  “I don’t think you had much to worry about, Captain. Nay a person with any sense is going to listen to anything a couple of toshers would have to say against your word,” the second man replied.

  “The reason I am a success at what I do, Lieutenant, is because I am careful to cover my steps, leave nothing to chance and foresee the inevitable,” the first man said.

  “Well, if that be the case, Captain, have you anticipated Lieutenant Gray’s reaction when he finds out the Naomi twit is dead? He enjoyed that one, said she had a tight arse and loved it when he put his...”

  “That’s quite enough, Lieutenant. I haven’t time to discuss Addison Gray’s sexual romps right now,” the first man interrupted.

  Riley closed her eyes, a mixture of sadness and disgust filling her heart. Naomi not only set her up but had been intimate with the third man in on her capture.

  “Now, is our new guest here?” the first man continued.

  “Aye, she lies unconscious just beyond that door,” the second man explained. “I had to punch her senseless.”

  The first man took an audible breath. “Was it really necessary to use brute force?”

  “Aye, it was the only way I could quietly get her to the wagon,” was the second man’s trembling reply. “I forgot the sleeping powder.”

  The first man’s voice deepened. “And dare I hope you didn’t mark the merchandise to ghastly proportions in the process?”

  “Nay, just a bluddy nose.” Then the second man added. “And it doesn’t appear broken.”

  “You’d better hope it’s not,” the first man warned. “Our client wants a flawless face, young and beautiful and her virtue intact. Although I happen to know this one grew up on the streets, and that is to be a fact we do not divulge to the client,” he added. “She was taken in by money at an early age, so in view of that, I tend to believe she is still untouched.”

  “By the time we get her to the island, her nose will be healed, and as far as her virtue,” the second man chuckled, “I haven’t yet checked.”
r />   Riley swallowed hard the fear rising to her throat and locked her trembling knees together.

  “And you won’t,” the first man informed him. “This one can fetch us a pretty purse left just the way she is.”

  The second man chuckled again, his cackle more sinister then before, and chills raced down her spine. “And after our client’s through, I’ve got first claims on her.”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” the first man said.

  The second man’s voice sharpened now. “You promised if I was able to pull this capture off, I could have her after the client’s finished with her.”

  “I believe what I said was if the client was satisfied with her when all was said and done, then you could have her next,” the first man disputed.

  “Oh, he’ll be satisfied all right,” the second man boasted. “I took a bit of a look at her while she lay unconscious. She’s slender and slight, but far from scrawny like the others were. And her breasts are full and firm, not to make light of a well-rounded arse and long, shapely legs.”

  Riley’s face heated, and suddenly she felt dirty and used at the thought of her lying vulnerable to this man’s eyes. She swallowed hard the humiliation and degradation that soured in her mouth.

  “But the little twit has to be compliable, and that’s not always an easy thing to do when beating and starving her into submission isn’t probable.”

  “Aye, right, she’s got to be flawless,” the second man reflected. “I hope this venture isn’t going to be impossible. I mean, I’ve gone to great lengths, and I really want this one.”

  “Ah, now old chap, quit your worrying. Something improbable isn’t necessarily impossible,” the first man said. “There’s always her family we can threaten her with.”

  Riley’s heart skipped a beat with a mixture of fear and rage.

  “Aye, we know who she is and where she lives,” the second man agreed.

  The first man’s tone turned diabolical. “And we will kill each and every one of those that dwell at Collins Stead if she’s uncooperative. On that she has my promise.”