Regency 03 - Deception (25 page)

The servant returned, handed Levi a wrapped parcel,
and disappeared into the corridor. Inside the package, the earl
found a suit of mismatched clothes that had seen better days fifty
years ago.

“
You are jesting, surely?” he
asked as he held up a dull jacket of what used to be bright blue
colored velvet with a high collar and a linen shirt yellowed with
age. The waistcoat was dark blue with what appeared to be peacocks
of all things embroidered all over it in crimson thread. It was
blinding—or it would have been had it been new. The boots were not
so bad, being plain brown topboots worn to a dull finish and
scuffed at the heels and toes.

“
At least you did not have to
search high and low for a set of completely black clothing,”
commented the duke.

Levi threw his friend an uncertain look. “Are you
trying to get me killed in this kit?” Shaking out the jacket, he
grimaced as a moth fluttered away. “I will stand out like a sore
thumb.”

Derringer told him, straight-faced, “Running away
with your wife would be so much easier if you were out of the way.
Many a man disappears into the rookeries at night.”

Levi hesitated. An arrested expression crossed his
mobile features, one that communicated quite clearly to the duke
just how believably he’d made his claim.

Watching Levi far more closely than that gentleman
was watching him, the duke knew all the fury and feelings of
helplessness over the current situation was bubbling dangerously
close to the surface. If Levi was to be any help at all in finding
Rhiannon Glendenning, the burning emotion had to be quenched.

“
Bruiser!”

The butler appeared with another package and handed
it silently to the duke. Derringer, in turn, handed it to Levi.

The earl tore into it, a perplexed frown between his
brows. He extracted a set of black clothes much like the duke’s,
and released an outraged howl. “You bloody bastard!”

He made a leap for him, but the duke sidestepped him
easily. He turned, latched onto Levi’s arm, twisting it up and
around. He informed his captive, “It was a jest, Vi. Nothing more
than a diversion. Murdering me will not solve anything.”

“
Like hell!” retorted the earl,
beside himself with rage.

Although the Duke of Derringer was known for his
selfish, unfeeling attitude, he had deep affection for Levi
Greville. This was someone he’d known since childhood, really the
only person to ever ignore rumor and befriend him despite all
obstacles. His baiting was not to poke fun at the earl’s pain but
to draw his anger out and release it before they ventured into one
of the most dangerous areas of London in search of people who truly
felt no qualms about ending a human life. If the rage poured out at
the wrong time, Levi could get them all killed.

“
Your problems with Aurora cease
to exist as of right now, Levi. We are on a mission to collect
information in order to rescue a kidnapped child, nothing more. Do
you understand me?”

Levi nodded, the movement nothing more than a
grudging jerk of his head. He was immediately released. Before the
duke could back away, the earl swung his massive arm and planted a
punishing left on Derringer’s jaw.

The duke’s shouted response to this was short and
concise, not fit for repetition.

Bruiser appeared in the doorway and started for
Levi, apparently unconcerned by the earl’s slightly more muscular
frame.

“
No, Bruiser, leave us,” commanded
Derringer, fingering his jaw and working it back and forth in an
attempt to alleviate some of the tenderness. “That was deserved, I
suppose,” he told Levi. “But, friend or no, it will not happen
again.”

Levi sucked in a deep breath, gradually releasing
the tension that had held him captive. Derringer was relieved to
see it go, knowing full well that a calm demeanor was the only way
to get through the next few hours.

Facing his best friend, Levi said, “I apologize,
Hart, for striking you. It was uncalled for and unwise.” He held
out his hand. “Forgive me my hotheadedness?”

Derringer strode forward, took the proffered hand,
pulled Levi closer, and landed a solid punch to the earl’s hard
head. Levi reeled back from the force of the blow, his eyes wide
with shock.

“
There. That evens things out a
bit,” said Derringer, satisfied. He smirked and left the
room.

~~~~~~

“
Why do you not just send Bruiser
to find these friends of yours and convey them to your residence?”
inquired Levi curiously as Derringer hailed a hackney
coach.

“
I prefer to do my own dirty
work,” was the duke’s cryptic reply.

The duke and Levi climbed into the cab, followed
closely by Bruiser. “So why does Bruiser go?” asked Levi, eying the
butler with obvious misgivings.

“
He keeps me from getting
killed.”

The earl nodded but continued to look suspiciously
at the butler-bodyguard. His eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?” he
asked suddenly.

The butler looked back at Levi with blank gray eyes.
“Reckon you don’t,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“
No, I do,” exclaimed the earl
suddenly. “Didn’t you fight Randall five years ago over at
Hammersmith?”

“
Reckon I did.”

“
You won,” concluded Levi
triumphantly.

“
Why do you act as though you’ve
never seen Bruiser before, Vi?” inserted Derringer, finding himself
drawn into the conversation despite himself. “He’s been with me
since, well, before that fight, actually.”

“
He is a servant,” explained Levi
with a shrug. “How many members of the upper ten thousand ever
notice servants?”

This explanation was ludicrous—and true—enough to
make the duke release a short bark of laughter.

The cab stopped and the jehu called down that he
wouldn’t go any further. The three dark clad men climbed down and
Derringer tossed a guinea to the driver.

“
Gor’ blimey! ‘Tis twice in one
week.” And he drove off whistling.

“
What are the chances?” Levi
mused.

Derringer ignored his friend as he looked around,
processing everything in his mind. Two drunks were standing in one
doorway watching them. A whore called out her wares. A mongrel dog
whined for food in an alley nearby. A small child ran by, bumped
into the earl and darted off.

He tried to, anyway. Derringer reached out and
grabbed him by the collar of his coat, giving him a brisk shake.
“Where is Big John?”

The frightened child stuttered so badly that the
three men combined could make neither heads nor tails of his
explanation. Derringer finally made out The Painted Whore when the
lad slipped from his grimy, oversized coat and darted off, turning
down an alley and disappearing.

Derringer tossed the coat aside, handed Levi his
leather purse, and started walking. The other men fell in step
beside him. He noticed the drunks were following them and cursed
under his breath.

“
Bruiser, do you see the drunks
behind us?” The butler nodded. “If they make a move, take care of
them.” The other man nodded again.

“
Vi, help him when the time comes.
I should see Big John alone. He is suspicious of all newcomers. And
I don’t want it becoming known that three large men are looking for
Forester.”

Levi nodded silently but Derringer could practically
feel the other man bristling at being excluded.

The duke entered the tavern with the air of one who
belonged there. He was given barely a glance by the patrons.

The working girls were more interested. One sidled
up to him and brushed against him in obvious invitation. Derringer
looked down at her ample charms, smiled into her eyes and, after
pressing a coin between her nearly bared breasts, ordered simply,
“Point me in the direction of Big John.”

Her full painted lips twisted into a pout. She
jerked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating a room in the
back.

Derringer looked pointedly at the long-fingered hand
that still rested on his arm. The girl jerked it away and stepped
aside. He heard her tell her friend that he was Old Nick himself.
The comment made him smile in genuine good humor.

The room in the back of The Painted Whore was little
more than a closet. Derringer pushed the door open without even
knocking. Just as he thought, surveying the scene before him. John
was working.

“‘
Eartless,” said the duke’s
quarry. “Care fer a pint o’ shrub?” he asked casually, lifting his
tankard. He shoved aside the papers strewn across the table and
kicked out a chair with his foot.

Derringer declined the offer of drink, straddling
the proffered chair. Resting his arms across the chair back, he
eyed the wizened little man across the table. “I need information,
John. A friend of mine is being held for ransom.”

“
What be yer mate’s
name?”

The duke hesitated. He didn’t want to tell him
Rhiannon’s name unless he had to. She was only a child. He was
enraged that anyone would dare to drag a child into such madness
merely for money.

“
Not important,” he told him. The
look in John’s eyes told Derringer just how much he’d managed to
reveal to the crafty old man but, to his credit, John said
nothing.

“
What’s in it fer me?” he asked
instead.

Derringer’s lips tipped up ever so slightly at the
other man’s avaricious nature. “I will allow you to live at least
one more day,” he offered, only half-jesting.

“
Nothin’ doin’, me lord
‘eartless,” the old man replied, completely unfazed by his dark
companion. “I gots to ‘ave blunt for me work.”

“
Business gone down lately?” asked
the duke with mock sympathy.

“
Naw, jist lookin’ out fer me
own,” he answered with a smug grin.

“
A monkey.”

“
Five ‘undred quid? What
fer?”

Derringer leaned forward. “For you and Tiny and any
other men you think you may need to help. I need to know the
whereabouts of a certain Mr. Desmond Forester and anyone he is seen
with. I need to know if he is seen in company with a small girl of
about three years old. And I want him watched from now until
midnight in two days. Remember how I like details, John. Nothing is
too unimportant or insignificant. I want to know everything.
Understood?”

“
Aye.”

“
When you discover anything, come
to my townhouse in St James Street or seek out Lord Greville if I
am unavailable. I expect results, John,” he warned softly. “This
involves a very dear friend of mine and I’ll not have her hurt by
the greed of a madman.”

“‘
E must be mad to tangle wit the
likes o’ you,” commented John.

“
Exactly. Where is
Tiny?”

“
Try ‘Arwood’s ken. I seen ‘im
sneakin’ ‘bout ‘is lordship’s place last night. I reckon as ‘ow
‘e’s been ‘ired to watch the old man. Right strange goings-on
there.”

“
Very well. Here.” He didn’t care
a rap for the Earl of Harwood and the strange goings-on of his
family. He tossed a handful of coins on the table between them. “I
want silence on this, John. If Forester finds out that I am asking
about him, he may get desperate.”

The little man saluted mockingly. “Aye, aye,
Cap’n.”

Derringer smiled and bowed just as mockingly. He
left the room and exited the building after fending off the
advances of two more women for which the pub was named. He
shuddered as he erupted into the darkened street.

Levi stood leaning against a lamppost, Bruiser stood
to attention next to him, and the two “drunks” were lying insensate
in the gutter.

“
Problems?” inquired the duke as
he joined them and the three started walking down the
street.

“
Nothing a little muscle couldn’t
solve,” replied Levi, his hands shoved in his breeches
pockets.

Bruiser ambled along beside them but said
nothing.

They traveled the dark streets of London’s East End,
turning first this way and then that until Derringer hailed a hack
and they climbed inside.

“
Where to, guv?” called the
jehu.

“
Grosvenor Square.”

~~~~~~

Harwood House was lit up like Vauxhall Gardens
during a fireworks show. Candles burned in every window and
carriages were lined up outside the door. Music filtered out into
the night sky and wound its way around anyone who was close enough
to hear. Sounds of merriment could be heard and Derringer paused in
the shadows.

“
Harwood would have to be
entertaining,” grumbled the duke. His dark eyes scanned the area,
looking for any shadows that did not belong.

“
Drat. Nothing. Wait here. I will
search around the back and see if he is hiding out
there.”

Levi watched the duke slink away into the darker
shadows near the house. He abruptly disappeared.

As they waited, watching, Levi pondered his marital
dilemma. While he knew that he would forgive Aurora for her lies,
he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to trust her again. And what sort of
marriage could they have without trust? He was a firm believer that
trust was more important than love. Trust enabled a person to be
comfortable, to be happy, to be content with another person. Trust
that they would not hurt you, trust that they would not betray you,
trust that they would not lie.

He couldn’t trust her. And now her lies had caused
her daughter to be kidnapped. If she had only told him about
Rhiannon, he would have stopped Forester before he’d ever had the
chance to harm the child. Now it was too late. She was in the hands
of a possible madman, mad for money, and he had no idea where she
might be. He prayed Derringer knew what he was doing and wasn’t
about to get Rhiannon killed.