Mrs. Perriman glanced at Nate.
“Neither do I. We are at your disposal.”
“Thank you.” She moved toward the door to the garden. “I thought about asking your sister for more employees, but it is feast or famine. We wouldn’t want to pay for people to do nothing but wait.”
“I understand,” Henrietta responded. “It would be hard to have people working on an ad hoc basis, especially when there are so many secrets one must keep.”
Nate hadn’t thought about it quite like that, but she was right. Anyone who worked here could not talk about what they did or, more importantly, where the women and children went after they were rescued. “Where are we going?”
“To the outskirts of Seven Dials.” Mrs. Perriman pulled on her gloves. “Close to where we were the last time you helped us. We always change the meeting sites.”
Tim, the former soldier Nate had met when he was looking for Henrietta, joined them.
He hadn’t thought about having to do that. But it was an excellent idea. She strode down the corridor to the garden, and they followed.
When they reached the mews, a traveling coach was waiting. “This is handy to have.”
“It is for longer journeys,” Mrs. Perriman said. “We have houses outside the London area.”
As with the other carriage, the coach appeared shabby on the outside, but it was well-sprung and in good working condition.
When they reached Neal Street, the coachman turned the vehicle around before stopping. This area actually looked worse than the last place. Nate watched as Henrietta moved her pistol to a pocket in her cloak. “Do you think there could be trouble?”
Her brows rose slightly. “Even on the edge of Seven Dials, one should always be prepared for difficulties.”
Once again he was surprised at his ignorance of the two major slums in London. “I must depend on your deeper knowledge.”
He was glad to see a small smile on her lips.
“Miss Stern, I would like you to stay back a little with one of your footmen,” Mrs. Perriman said. “Mr. Meadows, please come with Tim and me.”
That left the coachman and the other footman to watch them from behind.
They arrived at the meeting place to see two men carrying two infants, accompanied by two other children who couldn’t be more than two years old. Behind him, Henrietta sucked in a breath, and he looked closer at the men. They were the same ones from the first time they had met. Nate moved to block either of the men from seeing her, but it was too late.
“You!” One of the blackguards started toward her, but Nate and the others drew their weapons.
“Don’t be stupid. You can make good coin or you can die.” Nate heard the low growl in his voice. “Give the infants to that man and woman and tell the children to come to us.”
The man who’d approached them stayed where he was until his companion said, “Bart, we can’t help Gran if we ain’t got the money. Don’t do no good to get yerself killt.” He glanced at Henrietta, who had drawn her pistol. “If he don’t kill ye, she will.”
The man growled but pushed the older children forward, and Henrietta took one by the hand.
Once they had the children, Mrs. Perriman tossed a sack of coins toward the villain who’d spoken. Suddenly, Bart pulled a knife and lunged at Henrietta. Before she could react, Nate shot the blackguard.
“Telled ye I’d find ye,” a man carrying a stout cudgel shouted. “Jest took longer than I thought. What’d ye do with my woman and the kid?”
Bloody hell-hounds!
“Back off now or I’ll shoot you,” she said, her tone as cold as ice.
The rogue’s eyes bulged, and she nodded. “In that case, we will leave.”
Henrietta took his arm, but as Nate turned, a searing pain hit his head. A shot sounded, and all hell broke loose. Someone half dragged, half carried him to the carriage and shoved him in.
“Oh my God! He’s bleeding,” Henrietta said from somewhere above him.
That must be the warm liquid he felt dripping down his face. Damn, his head hurt.
