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“He has all a weak man’s contempt for the ‘lower orders.’”

“The venomed varlet,” said the lad. He frowned. “If one of the other opera dancers was willing to make up to him…”

“No!” Señora Alvarez sounded adamant. “Enough of them have suffered already. We will not bring any more into this.”

Arthur understood her reluctance.

Tom nodded. “No, you’re right. That ain’t fair. Can’t we just gather a gang and storm that place? My friends would come along. Mr. Rigby too, mebbe. And he’d know others. Good fighters.”

Teresa shook her head. She’d hinted at something like this when she talked to the pub keeper. “He won’t. Join in or try to recruit anyone to do so. He is very wary of breaking the law.”

“I suppose he has reason,” said Lord Macklin. “I couldn’t ask my servants or employees to take part in that sort of direct assault either. People might be hurt. And attacking a private residence without any proof of crimes would land us all in trouble.”

“But if we was to find the crimes when we got inside…” Tom began.

“Against opera dancers,” said Teresa. Anger and despair coursed through her. “No one cares about them, as this Lord Simon person showed. Owners of great walled estates bribe and persuade their way around the law when no one else of their class is involved.”

Silence greeted her outburst. Tom started to speak, and then did not.

A thought came to Teresa. It filled her with fear so strong that her hands began to shake. Nonetheless, she voiced it. “A woman might be able to get inside.”

“No,” said Lord Macklin.

“They take women there,” she continued.

“No,” said Lord Macklin again.

“And once in, she could find a way to admit others.”

“Absolutely not,” said the earl. “I forbid it!” He looked as if he knew he couldn’t, really, and that the knowledge enraged him.

“There’s them dogs,” said Tom.

“They might be given sleeping powders,” Teresa went on, speaking quickly before she could think too much. “And perhaps some of the people could be also.”

“How, precisely, would you go about giving a fierce guard dog a sleeping powder?” asked Lord Macklin in a harsh, clipped tone.

“Put it in some meat?”

“Because you would be moving freely around this sinister place, and no one would notice you interfering with the creatures’ food?”

Teresa understood that his sarcasm came from concern, but it was difficult to hear nonetheless.

“The idea is ridiculous,” he added. “Impossible.”

It was much worse than that. He could not know how it terrified her—the idea of going back into captivity.

Or perhaps he did. His eyes were full of sympathy. “You cannot do this,” he said.

She looked away from that compassionate gaze before it could overset her. “What do you propose then? That we simply let this—whatever it is—go on?”

“Now that we have identified Lord Simon, we can warn the dancers to have nothing to do with him.”

“And the ones who are already gone?” Teresa felt a moment of hope. Lord Macklin sounded so authoritative. Might he have some other solution? But the earl said nothing. “We leave them to their fate?”

“We don’t know what they are…” But he couldn’t complete the sentence. They all knew the four dancers had not been spirited away for benign purposes.

All her history rose up and beat at her.Shehad been oppressed. No one had cared, still less tried to help her. She could not turn away, no matter how strong the fear. Her hands were shaking harder than ever. “I will not abandon them.”

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