Page 106 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

“Coachman’s dead,” said the constable from the other side. “Broken neck.”

Peter cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t have waited. He should have stopped the attack before it had begun. But then he wouldn’t have known the exact intent of the robbery.

“What?” gasped the boy, who was still cowering inside the carriage. “Tom’s dead? What?”

Peter grimaced and turned his attention to Silas. “So you were sent to rob the carriage. By whom?”

“I didn’t do nothin’.”

“You killed a man.”

“That weren’t me! I was just coming to ’elp.” Then he got a glittering look in his eye. “Ain’t no one can say different.”

“I can say different. As can the men all around me.” He leaned close. “You’re going to hang, Silas. Unless you talk to me. Unless you tell me exactly who sent you and how you knew to come here.”

The only answer was a string of profanities and spittle. Peter sighed, realizing he was in for a long night of interrogation. He needed to know the full extent of the ring. Was it only his father? Or were there others? Then a female voice cut through the noise. A strong sound that nonetheless had him shooting to his feet in shocked horror.

“He won’t talk,” she said, “but the other one will. That one tied up near the constable.”

Mari.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Mari knew she should have stayed quiet. Hell, she knew she should have stayed at home. Even before that, she probably shouldn’t have bribed Tie for the information on the robbery. But she had, and so why should she start doing what she ought now, when disobeying convention brought her so many answers? Albeit with a bit of a risk thrown in.

Fortunately, she’d been smart enough to bring Tie. He convinced her that she’d never get there unseen without him, and he’d been right. They’d slipped through shadows and scurried across roads like tiny mice. He was ten times faster than she—and much less averse to the city’s filth—but he’d waited for her and even helped her when she’d needed it. And he’d guided her to a watch spot up the street from where everything had happened.

Then when she hadn’t understood what was going on, he’d explained it in a low whisper, barely audible over the clatter of wheels and the shouts of the men. Which was how she’d known when it was over. So when the three largest children, plus Silas, were captured, they’d left their hiding place while Tie continued to explain.

He was the one who’d told her that Silas would never say anything, but Bobby would if they threatened him with his greatest fear. “Tell him you’ll cover him in spiders if he doesn’t explain,” she said. It was a reasonable statement, and she considered it quite helpful.

Peter, of course, would focus on the fact that she was dressed as a barmaid again and out where she shouldn’t be in a foggy London night. After he said her name—or more like strangled it—he made a quick gesture to Lord Rimbury who spoke gravely, but with an undercurrent of humor.

“Tend to her. I’ll…er…cover the boy in spiders.”

Bobby began howling, thrashing in his bonds like a demon possessed. But Mari had no more time to consider him as Peter rushed forward, grabbed her by the arm, and wheeled her into the shadows.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“I came to help,” she lied. And what a bad lie it was, because he snorted.

“You know quite well that we didn’t need you.”

True. “I knew about the spiders,” she challenged.

“Tie knew about that. And he already told me.”

Oh. That was disappointing. “Well—” she began, but he wasn’t listening. While still keeping an incredibly firm grip on her arm, he squatted down to stare into Tie’s face.

“I thought I said—”

“She were going to come anyway. I kept her out of trouble.”

Peter took a deep breath. “Apparently, that was beyond both of our abilities.”

Mari smiled. “Glad you understand. I was well out of the way and very safe.”

“There are more dangers in London than just these thieves,” Peter ground out. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”