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  Had they discovered what had happened in his drawing room?

  Shame washed over him. He should have paid attention to his initial worry and not allowed so much time to elapse before coming here.

  He thought about knocking on the door and demanding entrance, but he didn’t know how many footmen Richards employed. He could be overpowered within moments which would make the possibility of rescuing Eleanor more difficult.

  No, he needed a plan. A more secretive plan. Perhaps something even illegal.

  Forcing a smile to his face, he sent Eleanor a kiss. Finally, Eleanor nodded, then put her hands together as if she were praying.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Logan was here. Logan was here. Eleanor repeated those three words to herself silently.

  She’d prayed for a miracle and God had delivered Logan to her, standing outside in his coat, impervious to the wind that blew his hair askew. When she’d seen him her knees weren’t able to support her weight and she’d dropped to the floor. The window had been nailed shut so she couldn’t open it. Nor had she taken the chance of shouting for fear that she would be heard by the footman outside the door. Every time the door was unlocked she saw him, standing at attention as if on military parade. Not one of them had ever met her eyes.

  None of the servants had ever been left alone with her. If they had, she would have pleaded with them to get word to Logan or Mr. Babbage or the authorities.

  Logan had seemed to understand that she needed his help. All she could do was keep praying that she was right.

  After he vanished she sat where she was, her cheek against the warm glass. Had she misinterpreted his signal? Was he really coming back? Please, God, don’t let this have been a hallucination, a vision I’ve imagined out of desperation.

  She hadn’t realized that her aunt’s greed overwhelmed every other decent impulse including any familial feeling for her. Maybe Deborah only had a certain amount of love to share and it was reserved for Daphne and in lesser amounts for Jeremy and perhaps her husband.

  Deborah didn’t seem to realize the barbarism of her actions, being so focused on the possible result. Every morning when she came to convince Eleanor to give up her rebellion it was the same speech, the same false concern, the same attempt to play on Eleanor’s emotions.

  “Don’t you care about your family?”

  “We’ve given up so much for you, Eleanor. How can you be so selfish now?”

  “Three little words, Eleanor. Just three little words. Just say it: I was wrong.”

  Family is everything.

  No, it wasn’t. She’d learned that one day when Deborah lost her temper.

  “You owe me, Eleanor. I gave up my entire life in Edinburgh so you wouldn’t be disturbed. I had to move my family to Hearthmere because you were a spoiled little orphan. You have no idea of the sacrifices that William and I made for you. You couldn’t be bothered.”

  “I was eleven years old, Deborah.”

  “You were a tyrant, Eleanor. Someone who saw us as her servants. You were the Queen of Hearthmere and you spent more time thinking about those damnable horses than us.”

  She stared at her aunt, stunned. She’d never once considered that Deborah, William, and her cousins had been unhappy at Hearthmere. She’d been so miserable in that first year after her father had died that she hadn’t seen anyone else’s discomfort. Yet she’d been a child, one who’d been grieving.

  “You never said anything. Not one time.”

  “And if I had? What would have been the result? Your solicitor would probably have sent us packing back to Edinburgh with no money at all.”

  Her aunt suddenly smiled. “But you have the chance to make it up to us now, my dear girl. All you have to do is become a countess. Isn’t that the silliest thing? Anyone else would be leaping at the prospect. You’ll live in a beautiful home, you’ll be wealthy, you’ll be in a position to help your family. Don’t you want to do that?”

  No, she didn’t want to do that and even less now after she’d been a prisoner in this room. She couldn’t help but wonder what excuse they’d given for her absence at all the social events she’d missed. Had they told everyone she was ill? Or had a family emergency necessitating a visit to Scotland?

  She turned back to the window. Please, God, don’t let it have been a hallucination. Please let Logan have been here. Please let him have cared enough to find me.

  With the hem of her nightgown she wiped the glass clean of her fingerprints.

  If she ever escaped this room the first thing she would do was make sure that Logan knew what she felt. Loving him, being in love with him, had been the only thing that had kept her sane and hopeful.

  All she had to do was keep herself strong until he returned. She didn’t know how he was going to rescue her, only that he was. All she had to do was last until it happened.

  Please, God, give me the strength.

  Logan gave his driver directions to a part of London that was a great deal more dangerous than this fashionable square.

  As a member of Parliament he had occasion to meet a few less reputable members of society. He’d been involved in several charities, some of which were geared to giving criminals a second chance at an honest life. Some of the men so honored took advantage of their new opportunities. Some didn’t. A few straddled the line, appearing to be honest, hardworking individuals while keeping their less honorable talents honed should they be needed in the future.

  One of those was a man by the name of Peter Cook, a cracksman who’d been recently released from jail. He’d been hired as a footman because of Logan’s recommendation and had been fired less than a month later. Unfortunately, Pete had been tempted by the silver and had stolen several pieces of flatware. It was only Logan’s intervention that had prevented him from going back to jail.

  The man owed him.

  Luckily, Pete was at home. His wife, a short, petite woman with bright blond hair and a surprisingly pleasant smile, ushered him into the small flat.

  “I’ll just go and get him,” she said, her accent one of East London. “You have a sit. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  He didn’t sit, but stood in the middle of the room, surprised at the tidiness. They didn’t have many possessions, but what they did have was dusted and shined. The sofa sagged in the middle and the lone chair looked to have a busted spring or two. However, both pieces of furniture were obviously cared for, because the cushions had been brushed and plumped and there were lace doilies on the arms.

  “I married above me,” Pete said from the doorway. “Molly keeps everything nice for us.”

  Logan turned to face him.

  Pete was a young man, probably twenty-two at the most. He was tall and lanky and always looked like he was wearing clothes two sizes too small for him. His wrists protruded from the yellow shirt he wore now. His gray trousers ended at his ankles. Even his face was bony, his high cheekbones leading to a sunken look and his chin knife-sharp.

  “I can see that.”

  “But you didn’t come to inspect my lodgings, did you?”

  Logan shook his head. “No. I’m here to ask for your help.”

  “Do you need a footman?”

  “I should think you’ve given up that line of work, Pete.”

  Pete grinned. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I need a cracksman. Someone who can get into a house after it’s been locked for the night.”

  “No,” Molly said, popping up from behind Pete. “I’ll not have him taken away again. Not with me having a baby.”

  “How do you think we’re going to afford the baby?” Pete asked without turning. “You are thinking of paying me, aren’t you? This isn’t something you expect me to do as a favor, is it?”

  “Yes, I’m definitely paying you,” Logan said, reaching into his pocket for the money he’d taken to the Richardses’ house. He pulled it out and would have handed it to Pete, but Molly stepped between them.

  “No,” she said, staring up
at Logan. “What am I to do with him in jail?”

  “If you want my assurances, Molly, I’ll give them to you freely. Pete won’t suffer for tonight’s work.”

  She didn’t look like she believed him and he couldn’t blame her. People in this area of London had learned to suspect everyone and everything. He’d probably feel the same way if he’d had their upbringing.

  Instead of giving Pete the money, he handed it to Molly, watching as her eyes widened. He didn’t know what the going rate was for breaking into what was probably a well-guarded home, but he suspected he’d overpaid.

  “Make your decision,” he said, glancing at each of them. “It has to be done tonight.”

  He could almost hear Molly’s thoughts. She was conflicted. In her hand was enough money to care for her coming child, yet Pete might be put in danger.

  “He won’t suffer, Molly.”

  She reluctantly nodded, tucked the money into her pocket, and kissed her husband.

  Ten minutes later Pete joined him in the carriage, the destination Logan’s home. He had at least eight hours before they could rescue Eleanor, but he didn’t trust Pete to show up on time. In addition to being an excellent cracksman, Pete also had a fondness for gin. Logan preferred to keep an eye on the young man until it was time for the rescue plan to be put into operation.

  Mrs. Campbell insisted on being present during the strategy meeting in his study. To his surprise, Logan discovered that his housekeeper had the impulses of a criminal. He hadn’t considered, for example, that the family might have a footman guarding Eleanor’s door. Nor was he able, unfortunately, to pinpoint exactly where her room was on the second floor. It might be the third door from the stairs or it might be the second. When he said as much, she only nodded.

  “You’ll have to take Bruce, then.” She explained further. “Bruce will find her faster than opening doors. Just give him the garter that she left here. That’s all he’ll need.”

  He didn’t know what to say, stunned as he was by her comment. She’d found the garter in the drawing room, but hadn’t said anything to him until now. If she expected him to immediately launch into an explanation, she was going to be disappointed. He had no intention of saying anything, especially with Pete and two stable boys sitting across the table grinning at him. He wasn’t going to discuss the matter in the future, either.

  “Besides, Bruce is as close to her as she is to him,” she continued. “He’ll be an asset.”

  Logan wasn’t entirely certain of that. He’d trained the dog in the past few weeks to bark on command and to not bark when he gave a certain hand signal. Tonight’s activities required total silence and he wasn’t sure Bruce could be obedient, especially if he was excited.

  “He’ll do fine,” she said when he explained his misgivings to her. “So would I,” she added.

  “I am definitely not taking you with me,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. “The poor girl will need someone with her. Someone to provide a little comfort.”

  “I’m bringing her back here. You can provide comfort then.”

  He was adamant. He was not going to involve his housekeeper in such a risky operation. Unfortunately, Mrs. Campbell was a great deal more stubborn than he’d ever realized.

  When she finally left the room he turned to the two stable boys he’d recruited.

  “What I’m proposing isn’t exactly legal. I believe it’s moral and justified, but I’m not sure the authorities would see it that way. Your decision won’t affect your position here. If you don’t want to participate tonight, your job will not be in jeopardy.”

  To his relief, both men decided to accompany him. Hopefully, their force of four would be sufficient to rescue Eleanor.

  His plan was to have Pete open the front door and then take one of these stable boys around to the side of the house and gain access to the roof. Pete wasn’t put off by heights. He’d told Logan stories of thefts he’d committed by scaling the outer walls of a house, getting to the roof, then dropping down to a bedroom window. That’s exactly what Logan wanted him to do tonight.

  While Pete was trying to reach Eleanor’s window, Logan and the second stable boy would go up the stairs and find her room. He agreed that Bruce might make finding Eleanor less difficult, if he could keep the dog quiet in the meantime. The last thing he wanted was for Bruce to start barking once they were inside the house.

  Pete pulled out a dark shirt from the satchel he’d brought, donned it, then looked at Logan.

  “If you have something dark, Logan, now’s the time to wear it. Or red. That shows up as black at night, too.”

  He didn’t have either, but he’d be wearing the jacket to one of his suits. In addition, he had a dark-colored sweater that he would loan the stable boy accompanying Pete. At least that way they wouldn’t be seen by an alert neighbor.

  That wasn’t enough, according to Pete. They needed dark cloth to make into masks. Mrs. Campbell helped there, providing a bolt of dark blue cloth used for the maids’ uniforms.

  Just when Logan thought they were prepared, Pete opened the satchel again. Inside were two curious tools, each consisting of an iron ball connected to a rope.

  “For if someone comes after you,” he said, demonstrating that the rope was to be wound around Logan’s hand. With a certain movement the iron ball became a controlled projectile.

  “Have you ever used it?” Logan wasn’t about to kill anyone on this adventure. He’d leave the weapon behind and claim forgetfulness.

  “Once,” Pete said, but thankfully didn’t furnish any details.

  There were a dozen picklocks in the bottom of the bag, a crowbar to remove iron bars, two chisels, a long knife, a rope ladder, and something Pete identified as a cutter.

  “If I can’t get through the lock, I can usually get through the door.”

  The last item was a small square lantern with a hole on one side no larger than a shilling. It was designed to illuminate the way without being seen by the Watch.

  “I didn’t think about the Watch,” Logan said. He had a great deal to learn about breaking the law.

  “I did.” Pete grinned at him. “Places like this think they’re too big to be burgled what with all the maids and footmen roaming around. I’ll admit, it does set me back a bit, but there’s no place that’s safe. No place.”

  Logan tucked that information away for later.

  “The Watch normally patrols on the half hour,” Pete said. “As long as we’re quiet then we should be all right. They’re not as alert as you think.”

  Logan would remember that, too.

  Mrs. Campbell entered the room again and placed a bowl filled with ashes on the table. Pete thanked her with a grin, but Logan only glanced at his housekeeper.

  “You’ll be smearing that on your face,” she said, pointing to the bowl. “Even with a mask. It’s a full moon out, which isn’t going to help us.”

  As if she heard his unspoken question she smiled. “Me da was a bit of a smuggler. Border raids they were. He always said that the old ways should be remembered, just in case they were ever needed again.”

  “You went with him, didn’t you? On more than one raid, I’d bet.” He was certain of it when she only smiled at him again and left the room.

  The door opened once more and Bruce raced into the study, bumping into the leg of the table before colliding with Logan. He hadn’t spared time for play or training today and the dog was feeling the lack.

  There was an hour to go before they would leave. He’d use it to tire Bruce out a little, so that he wouldn’t be so excited about a carriage ride and entering the Richardses’ home.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Before they left his house, Logan took William into his confidence. His driver had been with him for years and must’ve known that something unusual was going on. Now he told William the entire story.

  “Be prepared to get out of there quickly,” Logan said. “I have no idea what we’re going to face, only that I need to
get Miss Craig to safety.”

  “Aye, sir. I’ll stand at the ready.”

  Once they were dressed in black, their faces covered in soot, and their masks in hand, the four of them piled into the carriage. Bruce settled down on the floor on top of Logan’s feet. He didn’t whine and he hadn’t barked since Logan opened the door and encouraged him inside. Hopefully his lessons had taken and he would remain silent once they were inside the Richardses’ house.

  He hoped his constituents didn’t find out about tonight’s activities. Then again, Eleanor was a Scot being held in an English house. He had the feeling that the men who’d voted for him would understand his actions completely.

  The order of interrogators changed. Instead of Daphne arriving around noon, Hamilton appeared. Of late her aunt’s husband looked more and more reluctant to be here. Eleanor wondered why. It certainly wasn’t pity for her condition or her imprisonment. Hamilton could put an end to it with just a word. Why didn’t he? Either it was love for Deborah or his own greed.

  Eleanor was leaning toward greed.

  Family is everything. No, Papa. It wasn’t. Not this family. Not this collection of people. Not her aunt and her cousins. Not Hamilton. Certainly not Michael.

  Hamilton sat on the lone chair, studying her. At first she’d been self-conscious during his inspection. Now she didn’t care.

  She’d not been allowed a brush and her hair was a tangled mess. The past three days she hadn’t been given any water to bathe. She was surprised the maid came in to collect the chamber pot every morning.

  However, today she was marginally stronger. She’d seen Logan this morning. He was coming to rescue her. All she had to do was make it for a few more hours. She would be saved.

  Unless she’d imagined him.

  It wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen something that wasn’t there. One morning she’d awakened, startled to see a table against one wall. A feast had been arranged for her, from ham to roast chicken to flaky, delicate salmon. The smells of the food had awakened her fully. Until she’d walked to the other side of the room, she’d thought everything was real.