Page 61 of A Sham Engagement

The two men, one of whom, now they were a little closer, looked as if he might be Benjamin Sharpe, had stopped where a tumbledown warehouse overhung the muddy riverbank as part of a deserted wharf, and at last taken time to peer over their shoulders.

Ivy nodded at the warehouse. “I know this warehouse. We’re in Devals Wharf, just off Abingdon Street.” Her warm breath made shadowy statues in the cold air. “It’s fallin’ down now and outta use. I know the gangs used to use it to store stuff they’d prigged. What’s the bettin’ they still do? There’s lockups in there where you could hide anything you wanted. A boy, easy.”

She glanced from Jack to Elenora. “No one there’d ask any questions, nor do nothing to save a boy locked up in there. An’ plenty of people wi’ nowhere else to sleep’re probably in there all right. They used to crawl inside of a night for a bit of shelter.” She gave a dismissive shrug. “Done it meself a few times before I met Lord Jack an’ he took me to Ma Sharpe’s. If they’ve got the lad stashed in there, he’ll be upstairs where there’s a few rooms you could lock, what was once offices for the wharf. Like I said, be easy to keep someone there a prisoner.”

Had she been kept in there herself, as a prisoner? When she’d been little more than a child herself? The possibility made Elenora’s blood freeze in her veins, accompanied by the thought that she herself had led a very sheltered life, never dreaming that people lived in this terrible way. Never again would she take for granted the luxury of her family’s life. Mama had thought herself poor because Papa had gambled away their money, but this was what being poor truly was. Sleeping in a disused warehouse on the banks of the River Thames in fear of your life.

How long had it been since these back alleys were the haunts of her three new friends, and for how long had they been living respectable lives with Mrs. Sharpe? She’d ask them later, if there was a later.

Her left shoulder was pressed up against Jack’s body, his imposing bulk reassuring. The practical part of her was glad of this, although she also felt a yearning not to have to feel beholden to a man for her safety. That she could look after herself without his help. That, in fact, he needed her. Whatever would Mama say now, if she could see her here cowering in the shadows while two villainous denizens of the slums conferred. That Benjamin was villainous, she’d already decided.

A door creaked and the two figures disappeared into the dark cave of the warehouse.

Elenora stood on tiptoe to whisper in Jack’s ear. “Now what?” A curl of his hair tickled her nose and the scent of sandalwood caught in her nostrils. How could a man smell so… what was it? Tantalizing. Yes, that was it. She’d never smelled anything quite so alluring, and to her surprise it had turned out to be the scent of a man. How very odd.

He turned toward her, much closer than he’d ever been, apart from when he’d kissed her. His breath was warm on her cheek. “We wait.”

“Want me to foller’em?” Peg asked. “I’m small an’ no one’ll notice me. I was always good at that.”

Jack shook his head. “No. Too dangerous. I think we’ve found where they have Edward hidden. If we go blasting in after them, they’ll have chance to hurt him. So we’ll wait for them to come out and jump them. I’m assuming Benjamin to be on our side, but we can’t be certain. Don’t hurt him. Just hold him down. There are seven of us and only two of them so we should have the upper hand. After that, once we have them in our hands, we can go in and rescue Edward.”

“A good plan,” Jolyon whispered.

Matthew heaved a sigh as though he’d have liked to have stormed the warehouse all guns blazing.

Elenora bit her lip. It did indeed sound like a good idea. But only if the capture of Warren didn’t make a lot of noise and there weren’t a lot of people guarding Edward. Would there be, or wasn’t this more likely to be a one man enterprise? She had no idea. And from out here in the dark, how were they to know? Perhaps they should let Peg do her spying.

“All of us?” Ivy asked. “We’ll go in together?”

Rosie nodded. “If Warren’s still alive, one of us’ll have to stay and guard him.” She lifted her skirts to reveal the top of her boot, from which the bone handle of a knife protruded. “I c’n do that if you want. We’re all armed. As usual.”

“’Cept her.” Peg nodded at Elenora. “I bet she don’t have no knife hid in her boots nor anywheres else.”

Miffed at their dismissal of her lack of preparation and more than a little shocked that they’d clearly been armed like that while they were at work, Elenora pulled the small pistol out of her reticule. “I do have this, and make no mistake about it, I know how to use it.”

“Well, strike me down with a feather,” Ivy hissed. “Where’d you get that from? Was it in there all along? Do fine ladies go about with pistols in their bags?”

Elenora shook her head. “Matthew slipped it to me. And I think some ladies do.”

“You sly cove,” Rosie whispered to Matthew, to whom she seemed to have taken a shine. “Never saw you do that. And she’s tellin’ the truth? She knows how to use it?”

Matthew, eyes shining in the dark with untoward excitement, nodded. “I can assure you my sister is a crack shot. Better than me and Joly.”

“You got your toasting iron?” Ivy tapped Jack’s cane and he nodded.

A toasting iron? What did she mean by that? Elenora soon found out, as Jack slid a long, deadly looking blade from inside the cane. She’d heard of sword sticks but never seen one before. Perhaps a wise thing to carry if you were a young blood roaming the less salubrious areas of London of a night. Maybe all young men had them. Older ones too. Although neither Jolyon nor Matthew possessed such a weapon. Perhaps she should suggest they get one each.

Elenora checked her pistol was loaded, which, of course, it was, but you should always check if you intended to use it to defend yourself. She’d learned that early on. She hadn’t grown up in the country close to her two older brothers without having joined in with their pursuits whenever she could, whenever Mama was otherwise engaged with her sisters or visiting friends. She weighed the pistol in her hand. It was smaller and lighter than any she’d handled before when she and her brothers had been target shooting in the woods. “I forgot to ask you, Joly, why you have such a small pistol about you.”

“It’s called a Queen Anne Pistol,” her brother whispered. “Or a Muff Pistol, if you will, as so many ladies keep them hidden within their muffs in case they’re attacked. That’s why it’s so small. Not particularly accurate, but enough to put an assailant off if you point it at him.”

Elenora examined the decorative silver handle. That this had belonged to a lady, she had no doubt. But who? Could it belong to some lady her brother knew… well enough to have her pistol in his house? She’d quiz him about that later. “I see it’s loaded.”

“I’m not walkin’ behind her, if you don’t mind,” Ivy said, and her friends muttered agreement. “Don’t want to be shot in the back by mistake.”

Jolyon grinned. “She won’t shoot you by mistake. She’s not an idiot. I can vouch for that.”

Jack nodded. “Don’t fire it unless you have to, though. Now, all of you, hush. And wait in the shadows until you get my signal.”