Page 62 of A Sham Engagement

They had all by now retreated down a small alley full of muck and rubbish and no lighting, which was just as well, as right then the two men emerged onto the street again and started their way, the light of their lantern illuminating a circle around them. That the lantern carrier was Benjamin was now obvious.

As they drew level with the alley, Jack stepped out of the gloom to stand in front of them, legs planted wide apart, the sword glittering in his hands.

Everything in the next few seconds happened at top speed, yet, oddly, also in slow motion as though all the participants were wading through treacle.

Benjamin must have seen how the land lay immediately, for he fell back six rapid paces, hands up in the air in defense, the lantern swinging wildly. “I seen your boy, milord. He’s not been hurt.”

Warren shot him a furious glare, his hand going to his belt. It came up with something dark clutched in it. Jack lunged forward with his sword, a terrific bang reverberated around the old stone buildings and the sword found its mark, driven deep into Warren’s chest. The lantern fell from Jack’s left hand, clattered across the cobbles and went out.

Warren’s eyes widened in something between terror and shock, and Jack wrenched the sword free. The kidnapper stumbled to his knees on the dirty cobbles.

Had Jack killed him? Elenora’s free hand shot to her mouth. Had she just seen someone killed? The hand holding her own pistol dropped so the weapon was pointing at the ground.

“Oh my Gawd,” Rosie said.

Time moved back to normal speed.

Warren toppled forward face down, a pool of blood spreading around his body, black and glistening in the dim light of Benjamin’s lantern.

Jolyon bent and put two fingers under the man’s jaw. “He’s dead as a doornail.”

Elenora looked at Jack. His hand was gripping his left upper arm, his fingers stained with blood. “He shot you!” She ran to him, forgetful of the man he’d just killed.

He shook her off. “It’s nothing. He just winged me. We have to get Edward. Whoever’s inside will have heard the shot. Quick before someone hurts him.”

Benjamin held up his lantern. “There’s a lot of folks in there sleepin’ but no one was in with the boy. The door’s locked, so I think he’s safe.”

Jack waved him forward. “Show us the way.”

The boy, his colors now firmly pinned to Jack’s mast, held up his hand and bent over Warren’s body. “Like I said, the room he’s in is locked. Here’s the keys.” He tossed a sizeable bunch to Jack, who caught them deftly, his bleeding arm forgotten.

As one, Jack’s little army, now increased by one, headed for the warehouse doors, Elenora staying as close to Jack as she could, her eyes transfixed by the ragged tear in his coat and the dark stain of blood on it. But he was right. It wasn’t affecting him at all, so it had to be just a flesh wound. Much as Matthew had sustained that time Jolyon had shot him by mistake while the three of them had been out after pheasants.

The thought that she was now in a part of London where violent self-defense was required had Elenora’s breath coming fast and her heart pounding, but that she was also part of a gang raised her spirits.

At the door into the warehouse, Jack held up a hand. With a finger touched to his lips, he gently pushed the door. It swung open in front of them.

He held out his sword in front of them. “Keep behind me.”

Elenora followed him in, along with Jolyon and Matthew. The girls, evidently still mistrustful that she might accidentally discharge her firearm into their backs, brought up the rear.

Once, this warehouse must have been part of the roaring trade in commodities that passed through London, but time had taken its toll, and the spaces that had once held spices and tea and coffee and silks from all over the world now lay empty of all but heaps of rubbish.

Only they weren’t heaps of rubbish. They were people.

From under piles of rags, pale faces peered and eyes glittered in the feeble light of Benjamin’s lamp, most of them uninterested in the arrival of yet more people to disturb their sleep, some wary, some angry, some resigned to interruption.

“My goodness.” Elenora couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice. “I can’t believe people have to sleep in this dreadful place.”

Jack caught hold of her hand. “Don’t look.”

But she couldn’t avert her eyes.

Benjamin stopped in the center of the room, the light from the lantern spilling out across the fetid floor toward the cowering shapes of the sleepers. Grunts and groans echoed in the darkest recesses, scuttling noises sounded, and the stink of unwashed humankind clogged Elenora’s nostrils. “Up them stairs. The room at the top.”

Jack caught her arm. “Upstairs, then.”

A rickety wooden staircase leaned against the farthest wall, the handrail broken and some of the treads missing. Above, darkness lurked. Darkness and silence.