CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I caught up with Blackford by his coach. “I want to talk to the family Nadia has been living with.”

“Do you know where they live?”

“Thanks to Mukovski, yes. Second floor in the back.”

We found their rooms, but only an old woman and two children were there. The old woman spoke no English, but the children, a boy and a girl in worn but clean clothes, sounded like any other residents of the East End.

“Do you know Nadia?” I asked.

“Who wants to know?” the boy, the younger of the two, replied. His jaw jutted out mulishly and he fisted his small hands on tiny hips.

Blackford reached into his vest pocket and came out with a half crown. “This wants to know.”

Both children’s eyes lit up. The boy said, “And one for my sister.”

“For everything you know. Everything,” I said.

Blackford produced the coin’s mate, but held on to them tightly above the boy’s reach. The girl stayed behind the youngster, half-hidden by the door.

“She lives in the building and is comrades with the thief,” the boy said.

“The thief?”

“Griekev.”

“Are they good friends?”

“Seems that way.”

“She doesn’t live here?” I pressed.

“Where would there be room for the likes of her? She has her own space. We just pretend to be her family if anyone comes snooping around,” the boy continued.

“Why would anyone come snooping around?” Blackford asked.

“You have, ain’t ya?”

“So why are you telling us this?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Because she left and she ain’t comin’ back,” the boy said. “And your money’s too good to pass up.”

“How do you know she’s not coming back?”

“Took all her things with her. Gave my gran a few shillings and thanked her. Said none of us would have to go back to Russia now.”

“You’re afraid you’ll be sent back to Russia?” Talking to this boy was fascinating although I was confused by the conversation.

“Nobody likes anarchists. Or the poor.”

“Princess Nadia is the daughter of an evil prince, and her wicked stepmother, his wife, wants her dead. She has beautiful clothes and jewels,” the girl said with a note of wonder in her voice as she twisted her braid. “She let me wear her necklace once.”

“Where did she get her beautiful clothes and jewels?”

Both children shrugged their thin shoulders in unison.

We got nothing more out of them for Blackford’s two half crowns. We climbed into the carriage with Jacob and rode away, the footmen riding on the back of the coach. We stopped at Scotland Yard while Blackford went inside with the silver lamp to report our findings.

After a lengthy wait, during which I nearly fell asleep, he returned. “The police were most interested in what we discovered,” he told me. “Inspector Grantham is organizing a raid on the warehouse as we speak.”

“Are we going with them, Your Grace?” Jacob asked.

“We’re not going anywhere until I find out how Emma is,” I told them. The scowl I gave them must have warned them not to disagree.

When we arrived at my home, we found Phyllida asleep in a chair in the parlor. Tiptoeing past her, I went to Emma’s room. Sumner sat on the edge of her bed running his hand over her wrist.

“She looks better, don’t you think?” he asked me. His voice sounded like distant thunder coming at me from the side of the bed.

“Her coloring is definitely better. What did the doctor say?”

“He thinks it’s a laudanum overdose. As long as she keeps breathing, she should eventually wake up.” He finally turned to look at me. “Phyllida had this idea to keep sticking things like onions and garlic under her nose to stir her. Then I started running her hairbrush up and down her arms. Seems to have worked. Her breathing’s regular now.”

“You’ve done a good job.”

He glared at me. “If I’d done a good job, Emma wouldn’t have been in danger.”

“She’d be the first one to tell you not to think you’re so important. She can take care of herself.”

“No. That’s going to be my job from now on.” He held my gaze. “She agreed, before all this, to become my wife.”

If she agreed, then Emma must be very happy about this change to her life. I burst out laughing and crying at once. “Best wishes. Oh, I’m so happy for you! Did you tell Phyllida?”

“Yes. She seemed pleased.”

“She gets to be the mother of a bride. She must be over the moon.”

Phyllida walked in stiffly, followed by Blackford, and looked from one of us to the other. “All is well?”

“You’ve heard the good news?” I asked Blackford.

He reached over and shook Sumner’s hand. “My congratulations. We’ll talk later. For now, Jacob and I need to find out what’s happening with the police raid on Griekev and Ivanov’s warehouse. I’m certain they’re the thieves who robbed the homes of the Marquis of Shepherdston, Lord Walker, and the others.”

“I’ll go with you, Your Grace. I imagine Georgia wants to take a turn at Emma’s bedside.”

I patted Sumner’s shoulder. “Thank you,” I whispered, overcome by his generosity. I’d never had any siblings, but it felt like I was gaining a brother by marriage.

“You can both go if you want. I can stay with Emma,” Phyllida said.

“I don’t mind staying, and you need some rest. Jacob can represent the Archivist Society as well as I can.” I turned to Blackford. “You’d better get moving. If Ivanov or Griekev goes back to their hideout for a second load, they’ll learn we were there and they’ll move everything out of their warehouse before the police arrive. The Russians will escape to steal again, or even to flee England.” By the time I finished speaking, I was shoving the two men from Emma’s room.

Blackford gave me a bow. Sumner gave me a wink and hurried his boss away. Then I pulled up a chair to Emma’s bedside. “Do you want to sit here, Aunt Phyllida?”

She did, and I sat on the edge of the bed. “Georgia, when Emma recovers, we’re going to have to plan a wedding.” Her narrow face widened to accommodate her smile.

“Yes, but while she’s recovering, I’ll need to hear what she learned and saw at the anarchists’ hideout.”

“Are they anarchists or are they thieves?”

“Both. The two groups made a pact that was mutually beneficial. We disrupted that in rescuing Emma, but the thieves have yet to be caught.”

“And it was the thieves who—” Phyllida made a gesture toward Emma’s sleeping figure.

“Yes. They’re the ones Blackford, Jacob, Sumner, and the police are going after now.”

“I hope they catch them.” Phyllida’s tone was as grim as I’d ever heard her use.

We had a half hour wait before Emma finally shifted in bed and opened her eyes. She looked from Phyllida to me and whispered, “What happened?”

“Do you remember the building in the East End?”

Her lids started to close, only to jerk open as she shoved herself into a half-sitting, half-leaning position. “You rescued me?”

“Sumner got us. We all went and rescued you.”

“Have you caught Griekev? He’s behind the thefts and the plot against the visiting Russian grand duke.”

“He’s moved his stolen goods out of the building you were in, but Mukovski told us about a warehouse he has a few blocks away. The police have probably already raided it.”

She nodded and slid back under the covers. “I’m so tired.”

“I’m not surprised. Getting engaged and being kidnapped all in one day must be tiring.”

When Emma’s eyes flew open once more, it was to see me grinning at her. “Sumner told you?”

“Yes.”

“I would have told you after the investigation was over.”

“I know.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why should I be angry if you’re happy? You’ve always been meant to live a full life. A lucky life. But you’d better hurry and recover or Aunt Phyllida will have your wedding planned before you get a say in anything.”

Phyllida laughed, a sound we seldom heard even after all these years that she’d been free from her brother. “I will not. But I do have a few ideas,” she added.

“Fine. Just not today.” Emma’s eyes drifted closed. “Someone is telling Griekev what to do.”

“Wait.” I shook her shoulder. “Emma, he has a boss?”

“A partner. I don’t know who. A woman, I think. I heard her voice once. Someone smarter than he is.”

Then the only sounds in the room were Emma’s soft snores and a gentle sigh of relief from Phyllida and me. After a few minutes, we rose and shuffled to the kitchen. I was drooping from weariness, and Phyllida appeared too stiff to move.

“Would you be a sweet girl and make some fresh tea? My old bones aren’t letting me get around like I want to this morning,” Phyllida said.

I put the kettle on and said, “You can’t imagine how relieved I am. I think you and Emma have earned a nice rest this morning. After you both get some sleep, you’ll feel much better.”

The look she gave me was uncharacteristically hard. “And you, Georgia? Don’t you deserve some rest?” She lowered herself slowly into a chair, and I brought the sugar and milk to the table.

“Once Ivanov and Griekev are in custody and we’ve eliminated the danger to Princess Kira, I’m certain I’ll sleep for a week. Today, I need to arrive at Hereford House at my usual time. At least I can bathe first.”

“Could you fix breakfast before you leave? There’s some bread and eggs in the icebox.”

Phyllida was looking thinner and paler than usual after her ordeal. My heart ached for her as badly now as hers must have hurt for Emma during the night. “Of course.”

I opened up the tin-lined wooden box, pulled out what I needed from above the block of ice, and began a process Phyllida had spared me for years.

I hated to cook, but she enjoyed it, and life in our house went smoothly when we stayed with our God-given talents.

Apparently the day was going to be as topsy-turvy as the night had been. I juggled the various tasks as well as I could, Phyllida exclaiming when I dropped a hot pan and when smoke rose from the eggs. Finally, I placed our breakfast on the table and sat down with her as she poured me a cup of tea.

Taking a long, grateful sip, I set down my cup and watched Phyllida’s nose twitch as she sampled a forkful of eggs and bread. “It’s too bad your mother never taught you to cook.”

“She tried. I wasn’t a good pupil. I’d rather have been working with my father in the bookshop.”

“I’ve been teaching Emma to cook,” she said with studied nonchalance, studying her plate.

“For how long?”

“A few months. We thought it might be a good idea. Sumner had been calling on her despite there not being an investigation to serve as an excuse.”

I ran my mind over the past few months. Sumner dropped by the bookshop regularly, but I had always thought it was to check out the newest releases. He seemed to be a fan of Mrs. Hepplewhite. Emma started running all the household errands, but I had thought she was merely being helpful.

They had been courting, and I was so wrapped in a cocoon of book shipments and ledgers that I’d never noticed. Perhaps because every time I saw Sumner, my thoughts immediately traveled to Blackford. I often wondered where he was.

Knowing it would bring me no comfort, I never asked.

I sent Phyllida to bed after breakfast, did the dishes, bathed, and dressed, all while moving lethargically. Guilt almost made me wear a work corset pulled loosely rather than wake Phyllida to help with a dressier one. In the end I woke her because I needed to look tidy. My clothes would mask my sleep-starved state.

I glanced up once to see the duke’s folding knife sitting on my dresser. I hugged the handle with my hand, remembering Blackford’s efforts the previous night for Emma and loving him for his determination. I slipped his knife into my pocket, hoping for an early opportunity to return it.

Despite my weariness, I was dressed in time to check on the bookshop before I had to leave for Hereford House. It seemed fitting somehow that I had to wear a waterproof cloak and put up my umbrella against what appeared to be the start of a daylong rain.

When I went to retrieve my ledgers, Charles Dickens, our neighborhood cat, was curled up in my chair in the office. I walked over to him and found myself faced with his slit-eyed stare. His look dared me to move him as much as any words could.

I put a hand on his bottom to shove him out of my way and discovered he could somehow change his body mass to become too heavy to move. He seemed to weigh twenty stone. Then he reached out one back foot and scratched my wrist with his claws.

I jumped back, sucking on my wounded hand while Dickens gave me a haughty look that clearly said, I was here first.

I picked up the ledgers and carried them out to the counter in the shop, turning on the lights as I went. A moment later, I heard a knock on the door despite the Closed sign hanging in plain sight.

Walking over, I was about to shout that we were closed when I saw Blackford in the door’s glass panel. I quickly opened the door to him and said, “Emma’s awakened.”

He walked in and shut the door behind him. He shook off his hat and coat and then peeled them off before dumping them on the umbrella stand. Taking a deep breath, he let it out and let his shoulders slump. Looking haggard, his clothes streaked with coal dust, and his eyelids drooping, he said, “I know. I was just there. I’m afraid I bring bad news, Georgia.”

My heart stopped beating. Despite our best efforts, Emma had died. I had failed her. My legs started to crumple. Tears slid unstopped down my cheeks. “Emma’s dead?”

Blackford grabbed me by the shoulders before I could collapse on the floor. Then he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “Wait. Georgia. No. Emma’s all right.”

I looked up at him, stunned, confused. “But you said you were just there and were bringing bad news.”

“I misspoke. Forgive me. I’m just so tired and—” He shook his head.

I looked at Blackford, surprised to see him in such a state. The man never looked ruffled, yet this morning he looked like he’d been beaten up and run over by a wagon. Whatever the bad news was, my heart ached for him more than myself. Wrapping my arms around him, I couldn’t stop myself from using his name rather than his title. “What’s happened, Ranleigh?”

The duke didn’t blink at my use of his surname. He didn’t shy away from my embrace. My actions were overly familiar, but he clearly needed a friend. Blackford appeared to have used up the last of his ducal reserves.

After a moment, he stepped back, peeled off his filthy fawn leather gloves, and took my bare hand in his. “We recovered all the stolen goods from the warehouse. The police have taken custody of them. But after a short fight, two policemen have been shot. Griekev and Ivanov escaped. The police, Sumner, Jacob, and I gave chase, but they vanished.”

I gasped. “How are the policemen?”

“Not badly injured. Expected to live. Ivanov is not the good shot we believed him to be after killing Robert the footman at Shepherdston’s. But nothing will save Ivanov now. Sumner is hunting him down.”

“Good heavens. We still have to worry about Sumner.”

“He’ll be all right.”

Didn’t Blackford understand the danger? “Ivanov has a gun.”

“So does Sumner.”

I couldn’t see this ending well.

Blackford pulled me close again and I snuggled against his shoulder. He spoke, his mouth near my ear. “After questioning, the police learned the anarchists at the house where Emma was held have no plans to hurt anyone. They have no interest in bothering Grand Duke Vassily or Princess Kira. They don’t believe in violence. They’re very happy to be in the safety of England. They admit there are a few radical anarchists in England, but they don’t know them or their plans, if they even have plans.”

“Do you think Griekev and Ivanov are behind the threat to the grand duke?”

He nodded, his eyes closed, as fatigue rolled off him like fog off the Thames.

“Emma said Griekev has a partner who’s smarter than he is. A woman. But so far she’s not told us anything more. When she wakes again, we can ask more questions.”

“In the meantime,” Blackford said, “I’ll talk to the grand duke.”

“No, you won’t. You and your footmen need to go home and sleep for a few hours. Then you’ll be able to deal with whatever threat arrives at the door of these Russians.” I spit out the last few words. My temper was not to be trusted when I was tired. “And to rescue Sumner if necessary.”

I softened as I looked into his sleepy dark eyes. For an instant, I pictured those eyes looking at me across a pillow. Shaking off my daydream, I said, “Remember, we still have until tomorrow to find out what Griekev and his fellow criminals have planned for the grand duke. Emma learned the date and time of the attack, just not what is planned. You have time to sleep.”

“My valet will appreciate a chance to tidy me up before I descend on official London again.” His smile wiped away the weariness in his eyes.

“Did Sumner tell you what happened to Emma in the East End?”

“Sumner got in with the anarchists, bringing Emma in as his wife. He claimed to have gotten into trouble with the bosses at a coal mine up north. Then he worked as muscle for me. Said he stole my boots.” He grinned for an instant.

“They stayed in a room in that building, and Emma managed to talk to most of the people. Sumner passed out leaflets for the cause at first and then was used as a thug by Griekev to force vegetable merchants around Covent Garden to pay protection money.”

“So they managed to get into a position to find out what was going on.”

“Except they didn’t. Griekev kept everything to himself. Mukovski appears to be harmless, interested in intellectual arguments to change the world. Sumner says Mukovski puts everything up for a vote in the group. Griekev doesn’t tolerate anyone disagreeing with him. That man is a pirate captain.”

“But Mukovski admits he made a deal with Griekev.”

“Which he once described to Emma as making a deal with the devil.” Blackford yawned behind the back of his free hand. I still snuggled against him, both of us so tired we were holding each other up.

“Why did they take Emma prisoner?”

“They must have discovered she’d overheard Griekev talking to a woman about an attack on their targets. And they could be sure Emma told Sumner. They took Emma prisoner and tried to throw Sumner in the cellar, probably to keep him imprisoned until they completed their plans. He escaped immediately, but they must have thought holding Emma would keep him silent.”

I now had a hand under Blackford’s elbow, supporting him. “I guess they didn’t count on Sumner having a lot of people willing to help him save Emma. We listened to his story. And we acted.”

I glanced at Blackford and watched his eyes drift closed. I knew I had to do the right thing. “This isn’t getting you into bed, Ranleigh. Go home. Get some sleep. You and your men.”

He nodded, his eyes still closed. “They followed me loyally today. I must reward them.”

“You must. But first, reward them and yourself with sleep.”

“And then I’m going after Griekev personally.”

“Why?”

“This may come as a surprise to you, but I have pirate ancestry.”

I bit back a smile. “Not really, Your Grace.”

“I believe I’m the only one capable of stopping a pirate like Griekev. Not the police. Not the Archivist Society. Me. So far he’s won every skirmish, but I intend to destroy him. He can’t be allowed to blow up the safes of my friends and steal Gainsboroughs.”

To me, Blackford sounded like a pirate on the right side of the law, and I couldn’t have loved him more for his determination.

He left his dirty gloves stuffed in his pocket as he dropped my hand and picked up his hat and coat. “What will you do?”

“I’ll be at Hereford House if you need me.” I had to ask before he left. “Does Sumner make enough to support a wife?”

“You’d be surprised how much money he has. Emma chose better than she knows. Unless he’s already told her.” He opened the door of the shop, making the bell jangle. “Good night.”

I looked out at the carriage, where the coachman and footmen looked like a band of worn-out brigands. They huddled under their caps and jackets as the rain fell. “Good night.”