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The carriage jerked to a halt on St James’ Street. “Wait here,” he instructed even though she had no choice in the matter. Never had a woman been granted entry into White’s. “I’ll be but a moment.”

“There’s nothing to fear on that score. Dressed like this, I’m not fit to beg for scraps.”

“Yet I get the impression that would not deter you.” Offering a curt nod, he opened the door and jumped down to the pavement. “Mrs Chambers’ safety is a priority,” Daniel shouted to Murphy. “Should you have need to leave, I’ll meet you in the yard of The Cock Inn.”

“Right you are, sir.”

“Stay alert,” Daniel reiterated.

“I’ve the eyes of a hawk to be sure.”

Horbury greeted Daniel at the door, his ragged breathing belying his calm facade. The fellow was employed to cater to the guests’ ridiculous demands. Daniel made good use of the fact, paying him handsomely to run errands, gather and relay information. Consequently, the man was like an obedient dog, rushing to his master’s heels whenever he appeared.

“Is mine the only carriage in town you recognise,” Daniel said with some amusement as Horbury dabbed at the beads of perspiration on his brow.

“Most carriages display golden crests, have liveried footmen in tow and are pulled by chestnut or dapple grey matching pairs.” The fellow nodded to the door leading out onto the street. “Your black stallions and unmarked conveyance could belong to Lucifer, and most people would believe it to be true.”

Creating a menacing aura made men think twice before throwing a punch or drawing a weapon. “So I’m Lucifer now. Have you forgotten who pays the rent on that little terrace house of yours?”

A look of mild panic flashed in Horbury’s eyes. “Then you must forgive a man for his slack mouth.”

Daniel gripped the lean man’s shoulder, his firm fingers settling on nought but bone. “I’ll let it pass, but I need an audience with Lord Tranmere.”

“Lord Tranmere?” Horbury swallowed. “He’s with Mr Trenton, his man of business.”

“Tell him I wish to speak to him privately. It concerns Miss Cartwright. Should he be unable to spare a few minutes, tell him I shall have no option but to call on Lady Tranmere.” Upon witnessing Horbury’s trembling lip, Daniel reached into his coat pocket, removed three sovereigns and thrust them into the man’s palm. “Time is of the essence.”

Horbury scurried off toward the private dining room, leaving Daniel to wait in the hall. A minute passed before Tranmere burst through the door as though the seat of his breeches were on fire.

“What is the meaning of this?” Tranmere, a tall man with greying hair, nostrils wide enough to fill his lungs with a single sniff and a paunch that spoke of overindulgence, came to an abrupt halt before him. “If Georgina wants more money, tell her my hands are tied.”

Witnessing the lord’s agitation, Horbury made a hasty retreat.

“There was an incident at Madame Fontaine’s shop,” Daniel said drawing the pompous lord away from the main entrance to a quiet corner.

“Madame Fontaine? Good. That bloody woman and her loose tongue ruined everything.”

Tranmere was obviously referring to the fact Madame Fontaine had unwittingly informed Lady Tranmere that her husband kept a mistress. “I need to speak to Miss Cartwright. As Madame Fontaine has no record of her address, I want you to give it to me.”

Tranmere’s penetrating stare travelled over Daniel’s face. “If you’re looking for a mistress and plan on making Georgina an offer let me caution you. The woman is a leech intent on sucking every last drop from her victims. My advice is to find another doxy to keep your bed warm.”

In a moment of fancy, Daniel imagined punching Tranmere on the nose, imagined his crisp white shirt stained red. Arrogant lords filled with self-importance gave women like Miss Cartwright licence to behave so shamelessly.

“Her address, my lord, and then I shall leave you to your business.”

“Well, I’ll not give it to you.” Tranmere sounded like a spoilt child.

Daniel shrugged but kept his expression impassive. “You’ve recently invested in Mr Moorcroft’s shipping company upon the advice of your man of business, I hear.”

Tranmere’s jaw dropped. “How the hell do you know? No one knows of it, other than Mr Trenton. Besides, what has that to do with Miss Cartwright?”

“You should know that Moorcroft specialises in illegal opium smuggling from Calcutta to China. You should be aware that his nefarious dealings are well-documented. In the wrong hands, the evidence could be damning for all those involved.”

Tranmere’s limp hand flew to his mouth. “But Trenton assured me—”

“Then the question you should ask is can your man be trusted? My advice would be to find a more lucrative yet legal method to increase your coffers. But before you go, you will give me Miss Cartwright’s address.”

Tranmere still appeared somewhat dazed.


Tags: Adele Clee Historical