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Authors: Grace Callaway
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Percy's least favorite activities. "How am I supposed to attend parties and the like knowing that Paul might be in danger? What if Hunt searches him out?"
Worry pinched the other girl's waifish features. For years, Percy had suspected that her chum nursed a secret tendre for Paul—but Charity, being Charity, would never admit to such a thing. And much as Percy loved them both, she could not imagine a pair more opposite than her dashing, feckless brother and her unassuming, responsible friend.
"I doubt Mr. Hunt would think to look for your brother at his current location."
"But Paul will have to remain in hiding. By himself and in that horrid place. I daren't visit him again for fear of leading the fox to the chicken coop."
"You think Mr. Hunt is monitoring your movements?" Charity said, sounding aghast.
"I wouldn't put it past the man." With a shiver, Percy recalled his parting threat."I wish I could at least bring Paul some supplies. Foodstuffs, shaving implements, that sort of thing."
After a moment, Charity said, "I could do it. Mr. Hunt doesn't know about me."
"You? But Paul is in Spitalfields. Your papa would never allow it."
Charity's father owned an exclusive jewelry shop frequented by King George IV himself —a fact that garnered prestige, if not the prompt paying of accounts. The only thing Mr. Sparkler guarded more zealously than his business was his only child. Though Charity spent most of her time working at the store, she never complained about the long hours or her parent's strict rules.
"I wouldn't tell my father," Charity said, causing Percy's brows to climb. "I could say I was going to worship. The groom and my maid are sweet on each other, so they'd be happy to wait outside while I go inside the church. They won't even notice I'm gone. I could leave by the back door and hire a hackney—"
So much for her rubbing off on me . "Goodness, I am a bad influence on you, aren't I?" Percy said. "But I wouldn't want you to risk—"
"I want to do this. Please let me do this."
Percy blinked at Charity's fierce tone and the resolute set of her slim shoulders, as if she were ready to march into battle. "Um, if you are absolutely certain ..."
"I am," the other said with a vehement nod.
"You'd have to be very cautious," Percy warned. "To make sure no one is following you."
"I will take every precaution. Just tell me what to do, and I will do it."
Percy studied her friend. "My brother is deuced lucky, and he doesn't even know it."
A flush stole over Charity's pale cheeks.
"All right, then," Percy continued briskly. "I liked your plan about the switch up at the church. I have a few additional suggestions, however ..."
SIX
Hands steepled, Gavin sat at his desk as John Magnus gave the report. Leaning heavily on his cane, the old man looked out with one rheumy eye; the other was covered by a black patch. As usual, Magnus' wild grey mane was uncombed and his garb patched and tattered, lending him a disheveled air.
"You've searched everywhere?" Gavin said, frowning.
"The likely places a gent like Fines would hide. I'll start on the less likely." Magnus paused, stroking his straggly beard. "It'd help if you told me why you want the cove."
"I told you. He owes me money."
"With the coin you're paying me to find him, his debt must be worth its weight in gold. You're certain there are no other details you can give me?" Magnus said shrewdly.
Gavin's policy was to give the least amount of information necessary. In this instance, however, he needed to unearth Fines soon. To his surprise and displeasure, three days had passed, and Percy had not yet returned to take him up on the wager. Well, he meant to have her one way or another; what he required was leverage, and her brother was the ticket.
Mulling it over, he said grudgingly, "Fines is connected to the Marquess of Harteford. Perhaps he is hiding at one of the Harteford's properties—though I've had those checked."
"Harteford, eh? Powerful man. Wouldn't
Worry pinched the other girl's waifish features. For years, Percy had suspected that her chum nursed a secret tendre for Paul—but Charity, being Charity, would never admit to such a thing. And much as Percy loved them both, she could not imagine a pair more opposite than her dashing, feckless brother and her unassuming, responsible friend.
"I doubt Mr. Hunt would think to look for your brother at his current location."
"But Paul will have to remain in hiding. By himself and in that horrid place. I daren't visit him again for fear of leading the fox to the chicken coop."
"You think Mr. Hunt is monitoring your movements?" Charity said, sounding aghast.
"I wouldn't put it past the man." With a shiver, Percy recalled his parting threat."I wish I could at least bring Paul some supplies. Foodstuffs, shaving implements, that sort of thing."
After a moment, Charity said, "I could do it. Mr. Hunt doesn't know about me."
"You? But Paul is in Spitalfields. Your papa would never allow it."
Charity's father owned an exclusive jewelry shop frequented by King George IV himself —a fact that garnered prestige, if not the prompt paying of accounts. The only thing Mr. Sparkler guarded more zealously than his business was his only child. Though Charity spent most of her time working at the store, she never complained about the long hours or her parent's strict rules.
"I wouldn't tell my father," Charity said, causing Percy's brows to climb. "I could say I was going to worship. The groom and my maid are sweet on each other, so they'd be happy to wait outside while I go inside the church. They won't even notice I'm gone. I could leave by the back door and hire a hackney—"
So much for her rubbing off on me . "Goodness, I am a bad influence on you, aren't I?" Percy said. "But I wouldn't want you to risk—"
"I want to do this. Please let me do this."
Percy blinked at Charity's fierce tone and the resolute set of her slim shoulders, as if she were ready to march into battle. "Um, if you are absolutely certain ..."
"I am," the other said with a vehement nod.
"You'd have to be very cautious," Percy warned. "To make sure no one is following you."
"I will take every precaution. Just tell me what to do, and I will do it."
Percy studied her friend. "My brother is deuced lucky, and he doesn't even know it."
A flush stole over Charity's pale cheeks.
"All right, then," Percy continued briskly. "I liked your plan about the switch up at the church. I have a few additional suggestions, however ..."
SIX
Hands steepled, Gavin sat at his desk as John Magnus gave the report. Leaning heavily on his cane, the old man looked out with one rheumy eye; the other was covered by a black patch. As usual, Magnus' wild grey mane was uncombed and his garb patched and tattered, lending him a disheveled air.
"You've searched everywhere?" Gavin said, frowning.
"The likely places a gent like Fines would hide. I'll start on the less likely." Magnus paused, stroking his straggly beard. "It'd help if you told me why you want the cove."
"I told you. He owes me money."
"With the coin you're paying me to find him, his debt must be worth its weight in gold. You're certain there are no other details you can give me?" Magnus said shrewdly.
Gavin's policy was to give the least amount of information necessary. In this instance, however, he needed to unearth Fines soon. To his surprise and displeasure, three days had passed, and Percy had not yet returned to take him up on the wager. Well, he meant to have her one way or another; what he required was leverage, and her brother was the ticket.
Mulling it over, he said grudgingly, "Fines is connected to the Marquess of Harteford. Perhaps he is hiding at one of the Harteford's properties—though I've had those checked."
"Harteford, eh? Powerful man. Wouldn't
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