Page 80 of The Viscount of Shadows

Oliver laughed and sat at the table. “I would never expect you to. But I will treasure it when you do.”

“Pour our tea, love,” she called out.

After placing the piled-high plate in front of Oliver, Claudia selected scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, fresh bread, and marmalade.

After chatting and eating, they were nearly finished the meal when Hobson, the butler, entered the room. “My pardon, my lord, Miss Claudia. There is a Mr. Rett Wollstonecraft to see you. He says it is urgent.”

“Show him in, Hobson,” Claudia replied.

She exchanged a questioning look with Oliver. This could not be good news. Rett wouldn’t disturb them unless something happened—something serious.

Rett strode into the room, holding a note aloft. “It appears we waited too long fetching Bryan from his flat. Danaher has him and is demanding money for his release.”

* * *

Oliver took the note from Rett.

“Luxury Tax Due: two thousand pounds,” Oliver read aloud as Rett sat beside him.

For the release of Bryan Wollstonecraft, now being held for taxes owed. Viscount Tensbridge, come alone with the money in a leather pouch, a mixture of pounds, guineas, florins, and shillings, and no harm will come to your brother. I will give you two days to gather the tax. Be at the Black Moon pub Thursday night at nine, and the exchange will be done. Call the police in, and I will slit your brother’s throat—the King of Notting Dale.

“King?” Claudia seethed. “Oh, that evil man.”

“We waited too long,” Oliver shook his head. “Damn the man.” He hesitated. “Does he know I am The Sentinel?”

“I doubt it. Danaher would have mentioned it in the note,” Rett replied. “Or would he?”

“Yes,” Claudia replied. “He would have mentioned it. He would have taunted you, luring you into his trap. You see, Danaher has done this before, holding wealthy young men for his own twisted version of compensation. He figures the toffs are using his facilities; they should pay a luxury tax. I am certain he does not know your identity.”

Oliver pounded his fist on the table as a wave of rage tore through him. Immediately sensing his distress, Claudia rose from her chair and embraced him. He slipped his arms about her waist, holding her tight. She was his anchor in the storm.

“So I take it things have progressed between you?” Rett asked.

Oliver exhaled, then released Claudia. He took her hand and kissed it. “Claudia has agreed to be my wife and partner. As soon as possible.”

“Then, my hearty congratulations. Truly, I am pleased to hear it. But first, Bryan. Correct?” Rett said.

“Yes. What do you propose? Claudia? What say you?” Oliver asked.

Claudia sat next to Oliver, still holding his hand. “It would be best to pay the money and recover your brother. As far as telling the police? That depends. We can take this legal opportunity to be rid of Danaher once and for all. It would involve Mitchell.”

Rett shook his head. “Mitchell told us in no uncertain terms he wanted no part of our schemes.”

“But this isn’t a scheme. It is a criminal act perpetrated by a known villain. Holding someone and soliciting payment is against the law, correct?” Claudia asked.

“It is,” Oliver answered. “This may work. Is Danaher holding Shinwell for ransom, I wonder?”

“Before we make any plans, I think we should head to Bryan’s flat immediately,” Rett suggested. “And see if Shinwell is about.”

After a flurry of activity and explaining to Olivia and Gideon where they were going, the three were off in the carriage. They arrived just in time, for Shinwell and a footman were loading his trunk and other cases onto a carriage. The front door hung by one hinge. No doubt when Coldbridge arrived and kicked in the door.

After assisting Claudia from their carriage, they ran toward the harried viscount.

“Where is Bryan?” Oliver shouted.

“How would I know?” Shinwell snapped in reply.

Rett and Oliver each took an arm and dragged Shinwell into the flat, with Claudia close behind. She shut the sitting room door on the footman and turned the key in the lock.