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Next thing Eleanor knew, she was opening her eyes. The room was dark, and the fire had gone out in the grate. Her book was lying open, pages down, on her chest and she was lying diagonally across the bed. Eleanor couldn’t even remember closing her eyes and falling asleep.
But she knew what had awoken her. The door to her bedroom had opened. There was a very distinct creak to it, and it never failed to rouse Eleanor. Initially, she didn’t move. It could have been Marion checking on her, or her father. When he was sober and not gallivanting around looking for the next game of cards, Edward Heavenly always looked in on his daughter before he went to bed.
Eleanor waited. The door closed again. Then she heard the soft footsteps coming towards the bed. That had Eleanor becoming fully awake. Her father Edward Heavenly never entered her room, not unless Eleanor permitted him to, the servants wouldn’t be sneaking in here. They knew better.
Someone else was in the house. In her room.
Eleanor pretended to shift over in her sleep, taking hold of the book in one hand. She kept her eyes closed as the footsteps came closer, stopping at the side of the bed. Then there was silence other than heavy breathing. It sounded fast, like he was anticipating something.
Then Eleanor felt fingers brushing against her cheek, moving her hair aside. It was almost like a gentle caress. And it made her feel cold.
With a cry, Eleanor lashed out. Using the book, she knocked the hand away and then swung again, hitting something hard. There was a grunt, and then a moment of silence. Eleanor opened her eyes and scrambled away across the bed, only to be tangled up in the sheets. Then her intruder grabbed her ankle, and Eleanor screamed. She was dragged back. Eleanor kicked back, catching her intruder in the stomach. There was a grunt and her ankle was released, but Eleanor was grabbed around the waist and hauled down the bed. Eleanor kept screaming, thrashing around and trying to hit whatever she could.
The first blow to her face stunned her, and Eleanor lay there dazed. Then she felt a pressure on her neck. Hands grasped at her throat and the dark shape above her moved in even closer. Breath tickled her ear.
“You should’ve done as you were told.”
The hands tightened, and Eleanor gurgled. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Eleanor reached over and grabbed at his face. Then she dug her nails in. Her attacker screamed and let her go, all the air coming back to Eleanor in a rush. She kicked out of the sheets and crawled away, falling out of the bed.
She lay there in a heap, the room spinning and struggling to get her breath back. She could hear voices and shouting, along with a muffled curse close by. Then the door creaked open and closed, footsteps hurrying away. Eleanor wanted to go after the man. Tackle him herself.
But her body just wouldn’t move. She could only just manage to breath. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, hoping that her staff managed to catch him.
It looked like Nathan was right. She was a target, and they were brazen enough to come into her home to attack her.
She was in trouble. A lot of it.
* * *
“Ouch!” Nathan flinched and jerked away from Simon’s prodding fingers. “Careful! My head is still delicate.”
Simon sighed. “Well, if you wouldn’t wriggle while I was trying to be a nursemaid, then maybe it wouldn’t still be delicate right now.”
Nathan scowled. “Your bedside manner needs some practice.”
“And you need to be on your toes more.”
Simon had scolded him on that several times since Nathan’s attack two nights before. He had gotten Nathan back to his and tended to his head, which was bleeding profusely. No wonder Nathan felt dizzy. It took a while for the bleeding to stop, and by then Nathan decided he wasn’t going back to his home. Vanity would take one look at him and start getting hysterical. It seemed the slightest thing would set her off every time Nathan walked into the room; he didn’t want to give her more reason to shriek.
So, he spent the night at Simon’s. If he could recover here, then going home with a headache and a delicate scalp wouldn’t raise many questions. Nathan knew if his mother discovered what he had been up to and why he had been dressed as a smelly street worker, she would become more than hysterical. Vanity didn’t know about the children, and she would consider his investigation ridiculous. In normal circumstances, it would be ridiculous; children went missing all the time.
But Nathan knew there was more, and while they hadn’t found much during that evening searching through the streets, they had found enough to know that Eric Black was behind all of this. Nathan didn’t know how they were managing to snatch the children, but with the current climate in the lower classes, getting children to come to them wasn’t that difficult. The temptation for a better life and a family would be great. Nathan would find it tempting if he was in that position.
It took a whole day for Nathan to feel remotely better and for the headache to be lowered to a dull ache. He had sent a note to his mother to let her know he was stopping off at Simon’s house for a few days. She could complain all she wanted, but Nathan was a grown man, and he wasn’t bringing his injuries home. Vanity would fuss, but she didn’t really do anything. It did get annoying after a while.
Now they were sitting in the club, Nathan nursing his drink while Simon kept inspecting his wound. His friend had been hovering since he chased the man away before he squashed all the breath out of Nathan’s body. It was irritating; Nathan didn’t need someone to be a nurse to him, not now he was better.
But you would want Eleanor nursing you, wouldn’t you?
Enough.
If only he had seen who it had been, but it had simply been a dark shape. The gaslight had been behind him, and that had his face in shadow. Nathan tried to focus to see if he could remember anything more, but the only thing he could vaguely remember before his head hurt too much was a scarf over the man’s mouth and nose. He had been lurking in the shadows. Waiting for whom? Was it a mugger looking to get some money? Unlikely, seeing as Nathan had been dressed as someone who would more likely be the one carrying out the mugging. Or was he a target? Had someone seen through his disguise?
Nathan had been going over it in his head until it was too painful to think about. He wasn’t getting anywhere. He had a hard head, but he wouldn’t be for long if he kept taking knocks like that.
“What were you doing in that part of town, anyway?” Simon asked as he took a seat across from him, the chess board set up between them. “I thought we were going to wait outside the orphanage for our coach?”
“Didn’t I tell you before?”
