Page 61

Nathaniel felt like he was going to combust right here, right now, like a goddamn barrel of saltpeter.

“You are not going to be her!” he roared. “You are to stay away from her, from this investigation, and to sit at home and never show your nose anywhere.”

With that he strode out, banging the door with such strength that glass in the windows rattled and the hallway wall sconce tilted.

“Joshua!” he shouted as he hurried down the hall. “Joshua, don’t unsaddle Hermes yet! I need to go to the docks.”

He went into his study and grabbed his saber. Then he ran out to the mews and was on his way, galloping through the streets of London as though he were in a horse race.

There were so many carriages in his way, he had to swerve through them, startling a few finely dressed occupants. Another carriage blocked the road completely, and he was forced to turn Hermes around and find another route. All the way, every time his heart beat against his ribs, he died a little inside from fear for Calliope. Images of her hurt and abused flashed through his mind. There could be a band of robbers…just like that night with his mother.

There were plenty of those at the docks. How could he have allowed this to happen? Let his wife walk into mortal danger like that? He should have never let her out of his sight. He should have never believed she’d stay away from this investigation.

Finally, he reached the docks, passing by dozens of dark warehouses, barely illuminated by lanterns. She must be near Portside, probably asking around about those ships, just like they had talked about. He looked into the faces of sailors, whores, workers, one or two regular gentlemen… He passed by every dark alley, rounded every corner.

She was nowhere to be seen.

“Calliope!” he called, desperation clawing at his heart like a thief. “Calliope!”

He kept trying, his eyes darting from dark corner to dark corner, calling her name for what felt like a hundred times.

“Here!” came her voice from somewhere nearby.

That alley, he thought, and with his heart sinking into his stomach, he jumped off Hermes and ran into the dark alley, unsheathing his saber.

Illuminated only by moonlight were two silhouettes of large men and a third one, slim and short in a round hat. His eyes locked on to the two hulking figures, knives glinting ominously in the moonlight as they made stabbing movements, dwarfing the petite figure that ducked, jumping away and cowering.

Calliope…

Horror grasped Nathaniel’s whole body in its icy cold claws.

“Get away from her!” he roared as he charged at them.

The two large silhouettes froze. Calliope picked up a piece of wood and swung it at the nearest thug, hitting him on the back of his head.

The man grunted and swayed, swinging his arm with the knife, but Calliope evaded him. The man was clearly disoriented, and Nathaniel lunged at him, his sword slicing through the air with a lethal grace. The thug grunted in surprise, his knife skittering out of his hand as he barely managed to dodge the initial attack. Nathaniel pressed on, slashing, while the man ducked.

The second attacker advanced, attempting to seize the opportunity to strike while Nathaniel was occupied with his companion. Calliope swung her plank of wood at him, but he batted it away as if it were a fly, sending it clattering to the stones. He left her alone and advanced on Nathaniel—thank heavens!

With a swift sidestep, Nathaniel evaded the incoming attack, his saber catching the moonlight as it arced towards the attacker. The dull thud of the blade meeting flesh echoed through the alley, and the thug wailed in pain and staggered backward, clutching his arm.

Nathaniel turned his attention back to the first man, who was now trying to retrieve his fallen weapon. With a roar, Nathaniel launched himself at the man, swinging his sword. It slashed towards the thug’s stomach, barely missing it. The thug slashed his own knife across, and Nathaniel counterattacked, but the man was faster. Suddenly, he changed direction, and instead of attacking Nathaniel, he turned away, grabbed his companion by the sleeve and both of them fled.

“Nathaniel, come on!” cried Calliope, who took off after them. “We must know who they work for!”

“Stay back!” he barked at her as he sprinted after them, his lungs burning from running. He had his eyes on the two figures at the end of the alleyway. He was catching up to them, especially the one he’d wounded, who was no doubt in great pain. But just as he was approaching the end of the alleyway, they disappeared around the corner. There was the sound of hooves and of wheels rattling against the cobblestones. And when he turned the corner onto the street, all he could see was a gig disappearing into the darkness.

He put his sword back into its sheath, then stood and doubled over, leaning with his hands against his knees as he caught his breath—not just from the physical effort he had expended but from the shock of seeing Calliope exactly where he had feared he’d see her.

In mortal danger.

Fury mixed with fear was pulsing at the back of his psyche.

He heard the rapid approach of her footsteps and turned to see her, for the first time getting a proper look at her in the disguise of a man. In his old coat and breeches, with her shoulders padded and her hair hidden under a hat, she could be mistaken for a rather feminine adolescent boy.

The sight of her, alive and apparently unscathed, flooded him with a wave of relief.

He straightened his back as the need to hold her close, to hear her heart beating, to breathe in her scent racked his body. He opened his arms and she fell into his embrace. He held her, just letting his body calm down. He’d reproach her later. He knew he would be furious with her, but that would come after she was safe.