“Will your Abigail tell her brother anything that we do not want him to know?” William asked that of Percy.
“Not if I tell her not to. I could try and see her tonight and—”
William stopped him mid-sentence. “Out of the question. You cannot go anywhere near the duke’s house in this current climate—or his sister. We cannot risk anyone making any links between us andEquitas. The law will be gunning for this newspaper after last night and so we must all be extra vigilant and extra cautious. Write her a note and Portia can slip it to her before she leaves.”
Percy nodded even though it was obvious he was desperate to see Abigail. He couldn’t believe that she had been so stupid and had apologized to Portia twice already for her ill-informed zeal.
“Excellent,” said William. “Then we have a plan.”
“A stupid one!” Edgar shot up from his chair like a firework. “Am I the only person here who can see thatsheis a poisoned chalice?” He pointed his finger so close to her face that Portia had to clench her fist to stop herself from slapping it away. “Her card is marked! What if Nolley has her followed? And what if she leads him here?”
“Then we cross that bridge when we come to it.” It was Jim who pushed Edgar out of her way. “And we stick together—because we are all in this together and we have all always known the risks of what we do here. If this was you in trouble, Edgar, you’d expect us all to rallyaround you as a mark of loyalty for all you do for us, and to move heaven and earth to try and get you out of it. If you can’t do the same forallof the rest of us, then perhaps it’s you that should be sent packing?”
“Nobody is being sent packing.” William glared at Edgar too before he smiled kindly at Portia. “You have had enough of an ordeal. Get yourself home and packed, dear girl. We can all regroup tomorrow and decide if we think it’s prudent to still go to print this week or not.”
“It’s not!” Edgar was shouting now. “You don’t prod a bear when it’s angry!”
“And you don’t roll over and play dead either because you still get eaten regardless!” She was sick to the back teeth of Edgar, but even more sick of being told what to do.
“We can decide on that tomorrow when we are all calmer.” William pleaded with her with his eyes. “Our first priority is getting you out of the constable’s way. So get yourself to your mother’s with all haste and then get a good night’s sleep. I hope it is not being unkind to say that you look thoroughly exhausted and if we do go to print this week,Equitasand everyone who relies on it to tell them the truth will need you to be at your very best.”
He was right. She knew he was right. But leaving here meant also leaving Leo and she was trying to put that inevitability off. “I shall see you tomorrow. Bright and early.”
“Bring your pen.” It was William’s way of telling her that he was keen to print and be damned, and she was grateful. There were so many things that needed saying now and the only way she could realistically fight back was to say them in her column.
“I’ll bring two.”
She gathered her coat and bonnet and trudged her weary way out. She was so tired, disappointed, and so utterly wretched that she failed to notice the man watching her from the shadowy doorway farther along the quay.
Chapter
TWENTY
Leo flung the drawing room door open and stalked toward his sister, not caring that fear had whipped him into an irrational frenzy. “Tell me everything that you know now, Abigail, or so help me I will not be responsible for my actions!”
His sister briefly winced, a telltale sign that she knew precisely what he was talking about even if his mother and Emilia didn’t. “I told you everything I knew last night, Leo. I went to a protest, Miss Kendall followed and tried to drag me away from it, and then the pair of us got arrested.”
“And?” He loomed over her, ready to shake the rest out of her if necessary, he was so bloody angry. “Let us not pretend that she isn’t a committed and rampant reformer just like you are because I’ve just had tea with her mother!”
Abigail shrugged, trying and failing not to look alarmed. “So we share some political views? What else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me where she is, goddammit! And what the hell she has been doing!” He had galloped home like a bat out of hell he was so desperate for answers.
“For pity’s sake Leo, stop shouting!” His mother yanked his arm. “Miss Kendall is upstairs! She is packing her bags and frankly I donot blame her after all the trouble you two unreasonable idiots have caused her!”
“How bloody convenient!” He tugged himself from his mother’s grip and marched to the stairs. He was halfway up them when somebody had the audacity to hammer on his front door.
“It’s the constable! Open up!” He was going to bloody strangle Nolley—but not before he had some bloody answers from Portia. Like where she went every single evening and with whom she went there! Or how the blazes she got home! Because nothing she had told him so far was anywhere close to the truth!
The footman hovered at the door and looked up to him for some guidance and Leo shook his head. “He can wait!”
“Open up or I’ll break this door down!” Nolley just kept hammering. “I have a warrant!” Words that turned Leo’s blood to ice and made him hurry all the way back down.
He opened the front door himself, making sure his body blocked it, and was greeted by the ominous sight of the constable flanked by two others, and several militia men who were all armed. “What sort of warrant?”
“A warrant to search these premises and for the arrest of Miss Portia Elizabeth Kendall.”
“On what grounds?”
