Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) (13 page)

He
clasped her hand and gave her a smile. “I’ll let you know what transpires.”

“This is not a wise plan,” Stephen said as he watched the entrance of Newgate the following evening.

Night had fallen, bringing with it a dense, damp fog which added to the eerie atmosphere that
had always surrounded the prison the few times he’d visited.

He turned once again to stare at the boy
’s attire Abigail wore. He couldn’t help it. The bulky jacket wasn’t flattering, but her snug trousers reminded him that she was long-limbed and rounded in all the right places.

“Yes, it is. We
’ve already discussed it.” She tugged the brim of her cap lower as though she, too, was uncomfortable with her attire.

“How I let you convince me
to come along escapes me.” Stephen pulled his gaze back to the large, grim granite building, trying to ignore her presence and focus on the task at hand.

Abigail had pleaded with him to
accompany him when he’d informed her of the meeting. Next time, he’d remember not to tell her about such things until after the fact. He was no match for her brand of logic or those amazing blue eyes. Who could say no to her?

Gas lamps lit the narrow wooden door of the prison entrance
. The iron teeth at the top seemed to threaten any visitors brave enough to ring the bell. The structure had a hopeless air to it and was an unpleasant spot to linger near. He hoped the guard Farley had located would soon arrive so he could get Abigail away from the dismal place. The man had worked there when Simmons had been convicted and supposedly hung for murder.

“Of course I had to come. I want to hear what
this guard has to say. Why does that seem so unreasonable?”

“Let
’s see. Perhaps because you’re a lady? Or because your stepmother would faint dead away if she knew what you were about. Or it might be that—”

“Yes, yes. You
’ve made your point.” She glared up at him, the bill of her cap casting a shadow over her blue eyes in the dim light. “But I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Nothing so logical for Miss Bradford,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

“Never mind. Remember, you promised to let me do the talking. If you utter even one word, you
’ll ruin your disguise.”

“So you
’ve told me,” she said, her tone impatient.

“Forgive me, but the idea of you staying quiet for any length of time seems unlikely.”

“If you ask the questions I wrote down, there’ll be no need for me to speak. Did you bring the list?”

He pulled it from his coat pocket for her inspection.

“Well then, I’ll remain as quiet as a mouse.”

“I think this is our man,” Stephen said. “Stay behind me so he doesn
’t get a good look at you.”

An older man in a dark uniform with a ring of keys dangling from his pocket shuffled toward them. His shoulders hunched even further as he glanced around before approaching them. “You be the guv lookin
’ for information?”

“Yes.”

The warder peered at Abigail warily, making Stephen’s nerves draw taught. “Who’s this?”

“No one of import.” Stephen moved to shield her from view, cursing himself for allowing her to be there.

“Let’s see the money first. You’re askin’ a lot to remember somethin’ that happened nearly a decade ago.”

Stephen drew some notes
from his pocket and the guard reached for them. “Hold off. Half now and the remainder will be yours if we’re satisfied with your information.”

The warder muttered but pocketed the money.

“What can you tell us about Vincent Simmons’ release?”

“I believe you
’ve got your facts wrong. Vincent Simmons hung for murder three days after he was found guilty. That was ten years past.”

Stephen heard a protest behind him and reached back to hold Abigail in place. “So the records say, but you and I know better.”

The man gave a sly smile. “A man named Edward Smith was sentenced to ten years for burglary that same day. He served his time at Pentonville.”

“And?” Stephen prompted
before Abigail tried to speak.

“Rumor has it that Smith took Simmons place with the executioner in exchange for money to take care of his wife and children. Very noble of Smith, don
’t you think? I wonder if his widow thought so. Course some said he was dyin’ from consumption anyway. He certainly was thin enough and had a nasty cough. Mayhap it was true.”

Stephen had suspected something like this had occurred. At times there was no justice in the world. “Who arranged for the switch?”

“Don’t know, but a murderer of a nobleman don’t get off that easy on some guard’s say-so.”

“A name would be of value to us.” Stephen pulled out another note.

The guard swallowed hard as he stared at the money. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

“Your identity will remain a secret.”

“All right. Near as I can tell, it was Charles Nulty, the Chief Warder. But some say more than him was involved.”

Stephen pondered what little he knew of the man, surprised he
’d succumbed to bribery of any sort. Or perhaps it had been blackmail that had persuaded him. Information could often be used as leverage on the best of men.

He felt a poke in the back and turned to find Abigail pointing toward the list tucked in his pocket. Lord, but the woman was
relentless.

Without bothering to consult the list, he turned back to the guard. “I have a difficult time believing Simmons had the intelligence or the wherewithal to arrange all this.”

“Someone on the outside did and provided the money for it as well.”

“Who?” Stephen prompted.

The warder shook his head. “If anyone knows, they’re not sayin’. One of the prisoners heard Simmons braggin’ about how he had connections in the scientific world but he wasn’t what I’d call a reliable source.”

Stephen glanced to Abigail to see if this meant anything to her but she shook her head. “Why would a scientist want Simmons?” he asked the warder.

The guard shrugged. “No one seemed to know.”

“We need a name.”

“There isn’t one. I already tried. I figured you’d be willin’ to pay extra for that but either no one knows or no one’s talkin’.”

Stephen studied the man
’s aura, but could see no obvious sign of deceit, which reinforced Stephen’s own instincts. There was no point in pressing the man further.

As though he read Stephen
’s thoughts, the warder said, “I need to be goin’ now.” He held out his hand for the rest of the money.

Stephen paid him. “If you come across more names, send word through the man who contacted you. He knows how to reach me.”

“Don’t count on it. Don’t know who else I’d ask. Nice doin’ business with you, guv.”

Stephen watched the warder disappear into the shadows of the building as Abigail moved to stand beside him.

“Why didn’t you make him give us a name?”

“He had no name to give.”

“How do you know? He was probably lying.”

“Let
’s just say I have experience in these matters.” Stephen gestured at the hackney that awaited them at the end of the street and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he’d soon have Abigail safely ensconced in her home.

“Odd that
Simmons is searching for a rock and was rumored to be tied to a scientist. It makes no sense,” she said.

He remained silent, pondering the information. It was starting to make sense to him, but he wasn
’t yet ready to share it with her, not until he discovered more.

“What
is our next step?” she asked.

Stephen shook his head.
Abigail’s persistence never ceased to amaze him. “We’ll determine a list of potential people who were in a position to arrange the switch then investigate what scientists Simmons could have been involved with. Perhaps we can dig up more on Charles Nulty.”

The silence
between them grew long but it was comfortable. The darkness of the hackney’s interior and the muffled hooves of the horse on the street created an intimacy Stephen knew he should fight. Abigail’s scent was sweet—lavender if he wasn’t mistaken. The warmth of her body pressed against his heated him from the inside out, especially when he envisioned her inappropriate attire.

Damn those pants.

She sighed and relaxed, leaning against him. The small movement stopped all his thoughts save one. He shoved it away and counted the lamp posts along the street, anything to stem the desire flooding him.

She wound her arm through his, and he swore he could feel her breast resting on his arm despite the thick jackets between them. He gave up on the lamp posts and tried desperately to remember all the Latin phrases he
’d struggled through in school.

She rested her head on his shoulder with
another sigh, snuggling closer.

Damn.

What was he to do?

The same thought as before the lamp posts came to him
, and this time, he couldn’t stop from acting on it. This time, there was no anger between them. Only pure desire.

He drew her into his arms and slowly lowered his mouth to hers, giving her the chance to refuse him
. Part of him hoped she would, for he had no right to kiss her.

Instead, she lifted up to meet him halfway. That small gesture of acceptance released the
floodgates of his desire. He kissed the edges of her lips then delved his tongue into the sweet depths of her mouth. She responded with eagerness, wrapping her arms around him as though she never wanted to let go.

He pushed
off her cap so he could touch the soft strands of her hair. When that wasn’t enough, he ran his hand along her side, down her hip to cup her bottom tucked so tightly in the trousers.

A moment passed before he realized the
hackney had halted. He pulled back, attempting to gather his wits as he realized they’d arrived at her home.

She drew back as well, the dim light revealing the tendrils of dark hair framing her face, her lips full from his kisses. He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing his desire back.

He considered apologizing, but realized he didn’t want to. “Good night, Abigail.”

“Good night,” she said softly. A dark flare appeared in her golden aura as she smiled and trailed her hand along his cheek then grabbed her cap.

As he watched the door to her home close behind her, he couldn’t help but wonder what thought had crossed her mind.

He was certain it involved him
, but he didn’t think he’d like it, given the dark spear in her aura.

With a sigh, he gave the driver his address. He had to find a way to maintain his distance from her. Cozy hackney cab
rides were no longer an option.

***

Abigail paced her bedroom in her nightgown, too restless to sleep after the events of the evening. To learn that someone had been paid to take Simmons’ place was disturbing news. Why? Who was Simmons so important to that he would arrange for such a thing?

None of it made any sense.

It certainly confirmed what Stephen had already determined—Simmons was not working alone.

She paused by her window to search the area below but nothing was visible in the dark. It was unnerving to know Simmons was still out there and wanted something from her. Since she hadn
’t given it to him, she had to assume he’d be back for it.

No wonder she couldn
’t sleep.

Stephen
’s ideas for additional inquiries on the switch seemed logical but unlikely to provide them with real answers. How many people would remember what had taken place that long ago?

She took comfort in the knowledge that Stephen was having Simmons watched. With luck, he
’d get to the bottom of the situation before Simmons had a chance to follow through on his plans, whatever they were.

Thoughts of Stephen caused a peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. Leaning on him in the carriage had comforted her at first, but then her awareness of him had bloomed. There was no doubt her a
ttraction to him was deepening each time she saw him.

Tonight, as she
’d bid him goodbye, she’d realized she didn’t have to worry about broaching the topic of an affair with him. Instead, she would simply let their attraction take them there.

The very idea of it made her tremble.

As she saw the situation, she had two options. She could be forthcoming and tell him exactly what she wanted. That seemed such a cold way to approach what should be, dare she say, hot?

Or
—

Her breath caught as
heat coursed through her. She could seduce him. She bit her lip as the idea formed more clearly. He’d hold her as he had earlier, kiss her, even caress her, and at last she’d know what it was like to make love.