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A few minutes later, O’Brien threw the door open, a look of consternation on his face. He wore a heavy satin robe belted around his waist but seemed as though he was quite bare beneath it, and even more alarming, Allison, who hovered behind him, wore only a robe as well. He hoped he hadn’t interrupted them in the middle of... marital relations.
O’Brien’s gaze went directly to the arm Drake had wrapped around Heather, and he forced himself to release her. “Let us in,” he demanded. “I have much to tell you, but it isn’t safe for us out here.”
Without another word, O’Brien ushered them inside, slamming the door behind them.
“Heather!” Allison cried, rushing forward and gathering her lady’s maid—sister?—in a fierce hug. “What happened to you? We’ve been so worried. We thought something terrible had happened to you! Quinn and Sebastian have been looking everywhere for you.”
“We were kidnapped,” Heather managed, her voice hoarse from the emotional breakdown she’d had in the hack.
“Go take care of her,” Drake urged his friend’s wife. “See that she has a hot bath and something to eat. She’s had a rough time of it.”
Heather met his gaze, as though she didn’t want to be separated from him, but Allison was already pulling her toward the stairs. “Of course,” she called over her shoulder. “Thank you for bringing her back to us.”
He watched Heather until she got to the top of the stairs and then turned to O’Brien. “I’m sorry I woke you, but this couldn’t wait.”
“Come with me,” O’Brien murmured. “I have a feeling you could use a drink and that I might need one as well by the time you’re done.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Drake agreed, following his former colleague down the hall toward a room he knew was his office. Once they’d entered, Drake’s gaze was drawn, as always, to the entire wall of research, photos, theories, and notes about The Viper. O’Brien had been forced to quit the police after he’d been injured in pursuit of the bastard, but he’d continued to consult on the matter with Sebastian Ness, who’d taken over his job as Chief Inspector of J Division.
They’d come to the same conclusion as he had—that The Viper was Drake’s brother.
Drake accepted the glass of fine Irish whisky that O’Brien handed him and took several large swigs, shivering a bit as the powerful liquid burned its way down the back of his throat. He saluted O’Brien with his glass. “Thanks. I needed that.”
O’Brien nodded and sank into the chair behind his desk. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
Drake nodded, forcing himself to concentrate on his story and not the woman who’d disappeared with Allison. “Two... or maybe three?... days ago, I was kidnapped from in front of Scotland Yard.”
“What?” The blond-haired man sat forward, his green eyes wide with shock. “We knew you were missing, but I had no idea that you’d been taken or where it happened.”
Drake nodded grimly. “They were completely brazen about it. My coachman was late, and when he arrived, I was so angry I just got in. It was my coach, but there were men inside waiting for me. They subdued me before I even knew what was going on.” His pride stung to admit that. He still felt like he should have known it wasn’t Edgar, that he never should have gotten into the coach to begin with.
But then Heather would have been all by herself in that hellhole and when he thought of it that way, he was glad that he’d been there.
“Neither your coach nor driver have turned up. We assumed you’d gone somewhere, but it seemed very unlike you to just not show up for work without telling anyone that you wouldn’t be in. We were worried that Danbury had found out you were investigating him and done something to you.”
Drake frowned, hoping Edgar was all right but fearing the worst. He’d have to put someone on that right away.
“I thought Danbury was behind it at first too. I was blindfolded and bound and taken somewhere down by the dock. Kenner Street, I found out once we got free. They took me down some stairs and threw me in the cellar, and when my blindfold came off, I found that Heather... I mean, Miss Fields was already down there. They’d taken her too.”
O’Brien looked like he was going to say something about Drake’s familiar use of Heather’s name, but he obviously decided to save that for later. “Why would they take Miss Fields?”
Drake shrugged. “I’m not sure. She says she was taken off the street in front of your house, and she thinks maybe they meant to grab Lady Allison instead.”
Visibly bristling, O’Brien swore under his breath. “Why would they take my wife?”
“I don’t know,” Drake said with a sigh. “I still don’t know why they took me. At first, I thought that Danbury was behind it, that perhaps he’d taken Miss Fields as his next victim.”
O’Brien drew in a sharp breath. “Good God. I hope not. But I must admit that thought crossed my mind as well.”
“I know,” Drake said with a shake of his head. “I can’t bear the thought of him doing that to anyone ever again, especially not someone like... Miss Fields.”
“How did you get free?” O’Brien asked.
“We were able to take the door to our cell off the hinges,” Drake replied. “But not until we’d been held there for days.” He was still angry at himself for not checking the hinges earlier. “Whoever was behind it never showed their faces, but they seemed to be members of the Citizens Committee. Their leader demanded that I tell him what their associates in jail had revealed. I think they just wanted to know if we knew their identities.”
“Bloody hell. Didn’t they realize that doing something that stupid would bring them to your attention?” Running a hand through his already mussed blond hair, O’Brien sighed. “What do we do about Miss Fields? They know where to find her.”
“Exactly,” Drake replied. “But it’s just as likely that they never meant to take her to begin with and might have come here looking for your wife.”
