Chapter 29
Standing in the spot where O’Leary had said to meet him, Adrian clenched his fists and waited for the bastard to show. The ongoing drizzle had dampened his clothes, infusing him with a clammy chill that had long since settled deep in his bones. The gusty wind worsened the effect tenfold.
With most of his associates at his back, he should look ready to do as O’Leary asked. Indeed, there was a chance he might still do so in earnest. It all depended on how the next few minutes played out. He’d have to gauge the situation in the moment, as it unfolded.
Whatever the case, he would do what must be done to ensure Samantha’s safety. Once she was out of harm’s way, he could rest easy.
Until this was guaranteed, he’d be an emotional mess.
He retrieved his pocket watch and studied the time. The hour had finally arrived, yet there was no sign of O’Leary or his men.
All was still. Eerily silent almost. Even though Adrian knew the alleyways leading here were carefully guarded by Edward, Kendrick, Moorland, Eldridge, and Wrengate, with Runners and footmen to back them up, he was unable to discern the sound of approaching footfalls.
Another glance at his pocket watch and he saw that it was now three minutes after the hour.
Something wasn’t right. He shoved his hands in his greatcoat pockets and pulled out a pair of double-barreled pistols.
To hell with this. He was going after his wife.
Even if it meant searching every hovel in this God-forsaken place.
Prepared to spill blood, he started toward the nearest building, not caring who followed him into the hell that awaited.
Long strides carried him forward. He sent a swift glance over his shoulder to see if he had the support he needed.
His heart gave an unsteady thump when he saw that all his associates followed, their weapons at the ready.
They should have gone on the attack from the start. He’d been a fool to listen to Edward. Lord help him if this foolish plan of his sealed Samantha’s fate by delaying Adrian’s arrival. As it was, forgiveness would take time. But if Samantha had perished…
He’d go after Edward next, their history with each other be damned.
He was almost at the building he’d spied. He raised his arm, ready to knock before forcing his way inside.
When the world exploded around him.
* * *
Muffled sounds rang in Adrian’s ears. A hard surface was pressed against his left cheek. His palms connected with gritty wetness. Dirt and stone. He had to be on the ground for he sure as hell wasn’t standing.
Something large and firm settled over his shoulder. “Croft?”
He squinted across the cobblestones now at eye-level. Someone shook him. The voice came again. “Over here.”
His body was pushed on its side and then he was rolling onto his back. He blinked up at the man bowing over him. “Kendrick?”
“Christ, man.” Kendrick blew out a rough breath and shook his head. “I feared you’d been killed.”
“Merciful heavens,” another man muttered, the familiar sound making Adrian look to his right. At Edward who’d dropped to his knees beside him. “Are you all right? Anything broken or—”
“I don’t think so.” Adrian tested the movement in his fingers and toes, then in his arms and legs. Everything ached, but no part was screaming in pain. “Help me sit, will you.”
Two pairs of strong hands supported his weight while pushing him upright. He rotated his head, then massaged a sore spot at the back of his neck before assessing his surroundings. Rubble was piled around him with several buildings completely leveled.
Fractured wood beams were scattered about. Along with bricks, glass, and roofing. Groans coming from somewhere nearby drew his attention.
“How is everyone else faring?”
“I counted one death while searching for you,” Kendrick said. “No idea who he is so you’ll have to identify him yourself. I’m sorry.”
Adrian hung his head. Nothing had gone as expected. He wondered if this had been O’Leary’s plan all along, in which case…
“Samantha.” He pushed himself off the ground, ignoring the way his ankle protested. A nuisance he’d deal with later.
“Adrian, wait.” Edward’s voice warned him to be careful. “You’re in no condition to take on a rescue mission right now.”
“Try and stop me,” Adrian rasped. He managed to find his balance.
“Kendrick and I can go after her in your stead,” Edward said. “You need to—”
“No.” Adrian rounded on Edward, the last few hours returning to him in full force. “I wouldn’t even trust you to save yourself, so I have no intention of putting her life in your hands.”
Pain slackened Edward’s features. Hurt pierced his gaze. Then he nodded and took a step back. “Fine.”
A hand caught his arm and Adrian turned, his gaze colliding with Kendrick’s.
“He makes a good point,” the chief constable murmured. “I believe you were knocked unconscious in the blast. You ought to be resting, not heading for battle.”
Adrian gave the man the courtesy of considering his words for a split second, then pulled his arm free and began climbing over the rubble.
His ankle howled in pain but he shoved the discomfort aside.
He would not succumb to the inconvenient ache when there was a chance Samantha was faring much worse.
It was imperative that he find her.
The possibility of not doing so didn’t cross his mind once.
Success was the only option. So he limped his way into what remained of the building he’d been approaching earlier, then up some partially broken stairs.
Ignoring the whimpering people who huddled against one corner, he stared out across the two alleyways he could see.
Destruction stretched through the darkness, surrounding one building that still remained standing. Adrian swallowed. That had to be O’Leary’s headquarter.
It wasn’t too far. He could probably get there within five minutes.
A movement next to the building caused him to pause.
He stared at the people who emerged — three men, it seemed.
One of them swept his gaze in Adrian’s direction, and Adrian’s heart stilled.
Although he’d never laid eyes on O’Leary before, there was no doubt in his mind this was he.
Despite the darkness obscuring his features, the arrogant gleam in his eyes left no doubt.
Had there been even the slightest uncertainty, it vanished when the man lifted his hand and tipped the brim of his hat in Adrian’s direction. He spun on his heels in the next instant and started striding away. His companions followed.
Adrian reached for his pistols. Except they weren’t in his pockets. He’d been holding them when the blast happened, so he’d probably dropped them and now…
“Kendrick!” O’Leary was getting farther away. Soon he’d be swallowed by night. Adrian looked toward the chief constable. “I need a pistol.”
But it wasn’t Kendrick who bounded toward him. It was Edward. The earl offered his weapon and Adrian grasped it, turned, and fired toward the spot where O’Leary had been a split second before.
Except there was no longer any sign of him.
The bastard was getting away. He’d have the chance to rally and pose additional threats in the future.
But going after him might not be as easy as Adrian wished.
Truth was, Edward was right. Adrian wasn’t in any position to rescue Samantha or hunt down O’Leary.
So he pushed aside all his pride and said, “Can you please go see if I hit him or if he escaped?”
“Of course.” No questions asked, Edward went to do as Adrian requested.
“You ought to take Kendrick with you,” Adrian called after him. “Just to be safe.”
Edward sent him a backward wave, and Adrian returned his attention to the building that remained standing. He swallowed and started toward it, his pace slow and awkward. Light would be helpful, even if it was only a little.
Spying a piece of broken wood near his feet, he grabbed it, then tore his cravat from around his neck and tied it to one end.
Once secure, he rummaged through his pocket until he found his tinderbox.
A few seconds later, and his makeshift torch was burning.
It probably wouldn’t last long, so he’d best make good use of it while he was able.
Rubble shifted beneath the soles of his feet, displacing his balance and making him wince as fresh pain drove its way through his ankle.
He stopped, steadied himself, then continued climbing over the piles of debris with more care.
The light from his torch fell on the family huddled against a partially demolished corner of their home.
They barely had any roof left over their heads.
“Go to The Toothless Cat inn,” he told them. “Ask for Dunken and tell him Mr. Croft sent you.” He pulled some coins from his pocket and placed them on the closest flat surface — the remains of a wall. “Return here tomorrow if you want your home rebuilt.”
None of the people moved or uttered a word.
It wasn’t until Adrian put distance between them and himself that he heard the scurry of feet.
One of them had gone for the blunt. The man, no doubt.
And while there was every chance in the world that he and the rest of his family thrived on stealing, Adrian couldn’t ignore what they were forced to endure.
Not when he felt he was partially to blame.
A gust of frigid air swept toward him, freezing the raindrops that clung to his face and nearly extinguishing his light. The flame guttered, but continued to burn.
The building he’d been approaching wasn’t far now. He set his palm against a brick wall for support, then scrambled over a pile of bricks blocking the street.
Back on solid ground, he slipped a dagger concealed in his jacket sleeve into his palm, and advanced toward the front door.