Page 44 of The Chef and the Countess

A man rushed to the table. “Guv, we lost the Golden Angel. She dodged us.”

Sharpe banged the table with his fist. “Try again tomorrow. And don’t fail!”

The man hurried away.

“I’ve got a do-gooder lady in my midst,” Sharpe announced.

“What’s the harm in that? I wish I’d had a do-gooder in my patch when I was growing up.”

“Aye, me and all. But it’s interfering with my business. Let her do her good works in another rookery.”

“‘No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another,’” Liam said.

“Our Mutual Friend, Charles Dickens,” Sharpe replied. “It’s actually ‘lightens the burden of it for anyone else.’ Don’t look so bloody shocked. I taught myself to read, same as you.”

“Leave her be. What’s the angel doing, depleting your prospects of pickpockets and prostitutes?”

Sharpe’s eyes narrowed. “It’s none of your concern. I’ll find her, make no mistake. Anything else?”

Liam stood. “No. Thanks.”

“Don’t forget that stew. I want it here at this table tomorrow at noon.” Sharpe tapped the table. “It’s payment for the information.”

“I’ll send along one of my boys. Let him deliver the stew and leave him be, yeah?” Sharpe was always trying to recruit youngsters for pickpockets and such. Liam had no doubt guessed why Sharpe was annoyed at the charity lady. The worse off people were, the more they were willing to turn to crime to keep bread on the table.

Sharpe nodded, then turned to speak to one of the men sitting next to him, effectively dismissing Liam. Liam departed, and after he gave directions to the driver, he climbed into the cab. During the journey to Darrington’s, Liam formulated a plan.

When the hansom arrived at the earl’s, Liam paid the driver. “Bruce, stay next to me, but don’t speak, yeah?”

“Right, Liam,” the hulking ex-boxer replied.

After ringing the bell, the butler stepped aside to allow them to enter. “The earl awaits you in his study. This way.”

The room seemed strangely devoid of books, but maybe that was because he’d seen the Hornsbys’ studies, which were filled with various tomes. It proved that reading was not on Darrington’s or Shinwell’s priority lists.

“Mr. Hallahan and friend, my lord,” Baldwin announced.

“Sit, or will you stand?” the earl asked. Liam glanced at the leather sofa. Shinwell laid indolently across it, looking bored.

Liam grabbed a padded wooden chair and placed it strategically where he could see both men. Once he sat, Bruce stood beside him, arms folded. “I’m here to make a proposal concerning the 240 pounds owed. I am willing to forego the debt—for a price.”

Darrington’s bushy gray eyebrows shot skyward. The earl hadn’t been expecting that. “A proposal? Of what, exactly?”

“The address of where Countess Darrington is staying. Also, the money he--” Liam pointed at Shinwell, “--stole from Celia and fifty pounds more for the stress caused.”

“That is all?”

Liam snorted. “Should I ask for more, my lord?”

“Why would you do this for Celia? Has she bewitched you somehow?” Darrington asked. “She’s not that beautiful.”

Liam snarled. “Do not disparage her again. Not in my presence.”

Shinwell laughed mockingly. “By God, he’s cunny struck!”

Liam leaped from his chair so fast, it tumbled across the carpet. He punched Shinwell square in the face, catching his eye more than his nose. Shinwell cried out.

“Enough!” Darrington thundered, coming to his feet, which wasn’t easy considering his girth. “You!” The earl pointed at Bruce. “Get him under control, or there will be no deal!”