His escape had been fun.Also enlightening and helpful and utterly life-changing.But it was time to stop hiding and face that life on his own terms.And somehow, that was more exciting than almost anything else.
***
PART OF JACK’S MAJORdecision was the acknowledgement that he was quite out of his depth with the Smith business, and it was too important, too dangerous to the country, for him to blunder about with it any further.He had resolved to lay the whole matter before a magistrate and let the law investigate and involve any government departments it needed to.
On his way to Bow Street, however, he called in at several shops, and then the offices of Langham, Fortnum and Dabbs, the De’Ath solicitors, where he had a long discussion with Mr.Langham.The elderly lawyer clarified exactly where Jack stood in terms of the trust, his guardians, and the betrothal agreement between his father and the late Lord Sark.
In fact, Mr.Langham showed him the original document signed by the two men.“In my opinion, it is unenforceable, nothing more than a fond parental wish.Whether your grace considers it a matter of private honour, is not for me to say.”He set the document aside.“Now, as to funds while you are in London, I shall give you a letter of introduction to the manager of the bank, since you have not previously met.”
This was something of a relief to Jack, who had begun to run short of money.
“Isbourne House is shut up, as you know, but it can be made comfortable for you within a few days.”
“Ah, that won’t be necessary on this occasion, since I aim to leave London tomorrow.”
“Very well.Um...”For the first time, Langham looked awkward, shuffling documents on his desk and shifting in his chair.He pulled his lower lip between his teeth.“Perhaps you are not aware that Lord Hazlett wrote to me, asking if you had visited me.He seemed genuinely anxious for your welfare.”
“I have written to him, so feel free to disclose my visit.”
Langham’s gaze, over the top of his half-spectacles, was perceptive.“Sometimes one needs to escape in order to appreciate home.Will you be seeing your physician while you are in town?”
Jack smiled.“No.I appear to have no need of him.”He rose to his feet and offered his hand.“Thank you for all your help, Mr.Langham.”
The lawyer shook hands with surprising warmth.“My pleasure, your grace.”
His head spinning, Jack stepped out into the street and halted to adjust his mind to the next matter.The street was busy with scurrying, respectably dressed men, a few passing carriages, and a crossing sweeper.A hackney had stopped at the side of the road, and its horse pawed the ground impatiently, while it’s driver, down from his box, was patting the animal’s neck in sympathy.It was too hot.
Smith.Bow Street.
Jack’s neck prickled.He turned to the right and looked straight into the eyes of Smith himself.
The man must have just emerged from his own solicitor’s office and was striding straight toward him.
In the same instant, Smith clearly recognized Jack, for his eyes widened in surprise and he came to a sudden halt a couple of feet away.“Mr.Johns!”
“Mr.Smith.What a small -”
A sudden loud crack broke through the buzz of the bustling street, making several people start and even cry out, looking wildly around.Mr.Smith, in the midst of a hasty step closer to Jack, jerked his arm as though surprised.
At the side window of the hackney, a curtain swished, catching Jack’s eye.He glanced back at Smith, a question ready on his lips.He never spoke it, for a dark, red stain was blooming on the sleeve of Smith’s coat.
“Dear God.”Jack took the man by the good arm.“You’ve been—”
“Don’t make a fuss,” Smith said.“I suspect it’s a mere graze.”
Quite suddenly, Jack grasped several things, the most important of which was that Smith had been shot from the window of the waiting hackney.And it could happen again.Instinctively, Jack stepped between Smith and the carriage.
“He’s leaving,” Smith said, “by the other door...I don’t feel in a position to chase him right now.I wouldn’t mind so much, but that’smyblessed hackney.”
Supporting Smith toward it, Jack wrenched open the door and, finding it empty, helped the now white-faced injured man inside.
“Grillon’s,” Jack snapped at the jarvey, who left off gawping at the passers-by now gathered in huddles to discuss what on earth had happened, and lumbered hastily toward his box.
Jack leapt inside the carriage and closed the door, searching out of all the windows for any threats, before dropping onto the bench beside Smith.He helped him off with his coat, and Smith slashed the sleeve of his shirt with his own pocket knife, then used the hacked-off material to wipe the blood from his arm.
“Yes, it just grazed me,” Smith said with some satisfaction.“I must have moved just at the wrong moment for him.Or you did and distracted his aim.”
“But who would be shooting at you in such a way?”Jack asked grimly.“In the middle of the city!This makes no sense.”Unless it was some secret British attempt at assassinating a spy...Was he naïve to imagine his country would not behave in such an underhand manner?Only, how would they know?
