Page 33 of The Viscount of Shadows

“Well. Twenty pounds?” Eleanora stated with annoyance in her voice.

“I am sorry. When one lives on the streets, any opportunity to make extra coinage takes priority over everything, including common sense. It will not happen again,” Claudia declared sincerely. As she had observed earlier, this transition to a new life continued to be a bumpy ride.

“Very well. I accept your apology and appreciate your honesty. We allow bonuses from clients, of which the investigators receive twenty-five percent. The rest goes into the business. The amount you gave Tensbridge is not unheard of. The men paid a fifty-pound bonus on the Allenby case. But we wait until the client offers.”

“Oh, he offered. I just named the amount.”

Eleanora’s mouth quirked. “In the future, let the client name the amount. As for the rest, you are correct. There is not much more we can do regarding this particular matter. Do it for one more week. Meanwhile, I will discuss it with Allenby and have him speak to Tensbridge. By the time you meet with him this coming Friday, we should be able to finalize it. Other clients are waiting.”

Claudia exhaled, relieved. Closing out the case was prudent for the agency and herself. After this week’s meeting, she could dismiss Tensbridge from her thoughts and nip that attraction in the bud. “Speaking of other clients, I was approached by a possible customer. Baroness Addington. I would like to have a meeting with her.”

“Addington? Oh, that’s right. The old baron passed away recently. A distant cousin is now the baron. Did she say concerning what, exactly?”

“No, but judging by her conversation, I would say it concerns her husband.”

Eleanora shook her head. “Ah. It wouldn’t hurt to meet with her since you will be winding up this Tensbridge case. See it done and soon, and let me know what she wishes before we agree to anything.”

“You do not want to be there? I thought you or Miss Sybil met with all potential patrons.”

“I usually do, but I am seeing to my sister’s recovery. And Sybil has enough to keep her busy. I would say you are more than capable of conducting an interview. Just be pleasant and accommodating.”

Claudia smiled. “I will try my best.”

One thing at a time, however. Claudia had Tensbridge’s case to wrap up first. As she observed, it was best to move on and place any sparking interest in Tensbridge behind her. It was not wise on any level. Rubbing against and intimately touching a masked vigilante was one thing. He was anonymous, and she would probably never see him again. But a tall, handsome viscount with beautiful eyes and impressive shoulders, seemingly honorable and compassionate? ‘

No. Claudia could not allow it.

* * *

Claudia wore so much putty and grease paint that her face itched. There were dozens of pins holding the black wig in place. The hairpiece was braided, and she tucked it under the collar of her shabby dress. She kept to the shadows of the alley adjacent to the recently opened Avondale Park.

Wollstonecraft, his flatmates, and Tolwood were heading into the park, the former site of ‘The Ocean,’ the infamous pig slurry pond. The fact there was a park, complete with wildflowers, shrubberies, and benches, was hard to comprehend, but it meant that Tensbridge’s information was correct. The council would initiate a clearance sooner rather than later. The common was located on the outer reaches of Notting Dale, closer to Kensington and Chelsea than the heart of the slum. Because of this, a uniformed copper patrolled nearby.

Since the men were loud and handing a bottle back and forth, the copper approached them and sent them from the property. Shinwell and the others did an about-face and stumbled toward an area called The Avernus (the gateway to hell, as one paper had recently called this section of The Piggeries). They had left their flat in this intoxicated condition, which meant they would be easy targets for Danaher’s men if they were inclined to rob them. Danaher often permitted young men of means to arrive at their destination. It meant they would return and spend even more money on vices, which meant more currency in Danaher’s pocket; at least, that had been his technique ten years ago.

Claudia kept to the shadows, well out of sight of anyone watching. There was a good deal of fog tonight, and overcast and cool. She should have worn something warmer.

The men ambled along William Street. They had never been in this section before. Claudia searched her memory. Was there a brothel nearby or other place of entertainment? So much had changed since she lived here. They were heading toward Pottery “Cut-throat” Lane. Not very prudent.

They rounded a corner and disappeared. Claudia halted. Could they know they were being followed? She had been so careful. Besides, the young men were clearly in their cups. Intent on puzzling this out, Claudia was not aware of someone stealthy approaching from her left. Before she could fully comprehend that the hairs on her neck were at full attention, the person grabbed her arm and whirled her around.

It was Danaher, and he had gripped the same arm as before, making her wince from the pain. She already had bruises from the night before last. Claudia kept her head down in case he saw any resemblance to her previous disguise or the girl she had been a decade ago. This street area lay in darkness due to the lack of lighted street lamps.

“Another strange bitch lurkin’ about. Who the feck are you?” he snapped.

Claudia would not relive the scene of a few nights ago, so she gave a roundhouse blow that landed on his chin, sending Jedi down on one knee. About to reach for her knife, two men emerged from the darkened alley and seized her arms.

Danaher slowly stood, rubbing his chin. “Hit me, will you? Ugly sow.” He punched her in the middle, knocking the breath out of her. Claudia doubled over from the impact. “Hold her upright. I’ll teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget.”

But before Jedi Danaher could lay a further hand on her, someone dropped down from above and entered the fray. Still wheezing, Claudia slowly lifted her head. Although her vision was blurry, she could make out that The Sentinel had come to her rescue. He battered the men with his truncheon, moving with a predatory swiftness.

The two men released her and started to fight back, their fists flying toward the vigilante. It took all of Claudia’s strength to remain upright. Her insides churned from the impact of the blow, and she felt nauseous and dizzy, fighting the bile crawling up her throat.

“You,” Jedi growled, his full attention on The Sentinel. “My men told me of your interfering. Bloody bastard. This is my territory.”

In the muted moonlight, she saw a flash of a blade. “Knife!” Claudia cried.

It alerted The Sentinel enough that he turned sideways. Although he missed a full-on deep thrust, it sliced through the layers of leather on his left side, and the vigilante grunted. How deep the cut was hard to tell. The Sentinel caught Danaher across the face with his truncheon, knocking Jedi to the cobbles before the ruffian could attack again.