Chapter 23
“I have a gun,” Margaret said.
“Have you found Miss Wilson?” These words were spoken by Mavis Johns, who had suddenly appeared inside The Iris.
Ambrose had long since given up trying to figure out the workings of the Crabbett Close residents. They often simply turned up when they were needed.
“We haven’t,” he said grimly.
“Bud told us what is afoot, and the others are out looking for Miss Wilson and listening for any whispers that may alert us to where she is,” Mavis said.
“We appreciate this, Mavis. Is it possible for you to stay here with Ruby and Margaret in case of trouble?” Bram asked her.
“I will, and I have Tabitha with me. She can join us, and it may do her some good to spend more time in a women-only club.”
He would have laughed at Mavis’s words if he had a laugh in him. But Ambrose simply nodded and followed the others outside.
“Lord Talbot.” Tabitha Varney, the Crabbett Close siren, dropped into a deep curtsy as he passed her, displaying her ample bosom.
Ambrose nodded again and kept walking. Mungo’s shrill whistle was answered by the clop of hooves, and the Nightingale carriage reappeared.
“When we reach Lolly’s Bookshop, we’ll split up,” Bram said into the silence.
The tension inside the carriage was thick with worry now. Tilly was scared and angry inside a box not big enough to stand.
He was going to kill someone, or better yet, lock them where Tilly now was and walk away. His skin felt tight, and his head full of things that could even now be happening to her.
There would be time later to examine the ice-cold fear, but right now his focus was finding her.
Alex ended up in Ambrose’s lap as the carriage stopped suddenly. Rather than use the moment to annoy him, Alex gave him a quick hug and then climbed out of the carriage behind his brother.
“Trust us to help you find her, Ambrose,” Bram said as he prepared to follow. “Tilly is brave and strong and far more intelligent than anyone I know. She will know we are coming.”
“But even she cannot overcome men,” Ambrose said.
“We don’t know why she was taken or by whom.”
“It is to do with her club and what is below it, Bram. It has to be,” Ambrose said.
“Perhaps, and once we have her safe, we will pursue who is behind this and make them pay. But for now, she needs you to be strong.”
He looked at the man who had become his friend. Someone who he’d often thought would be wonderful to have at your back. He loved openly and never failed to let those he cared for know it.
“Aye, we will do that” was all Ambrose said.
They got out of the carriage and found the reason for its sudden halt was due to Gray, Ram, Charles, Violet, and Theo, who were standing on the street. His sister grabbed his hand, and he squeezed it with a reassurance he was far from feeling.
“We have found nothing, Rosie,” she said, pale-faced. “Tilly is strong, but I fear for her. Who would do this? Take her away from all she knows?”
“I don’t know, but we are going to find her, Pixie,” he said with more confidence than he was feeling.
God, he wanted her back safe. He wanted to know she was in her parents’ town house or The Iris Club. Ambrose needed to hear her insulting him about his intelligence or lecturing him on the rights of women. To think he may never do so again left him cold. He had to find her.
“I have heard a voice inside my head. A young girl weeping and upset,” Charles said, rubbing Violet’s arm gently, reassuring her that he was close. “We’ve searched in the direction I believe it is coming from, but there is no sign of her yet.”
They split up once more, and Ambrose took Alex with him, while the others went in opposite directions.
“Is there a gin house close?” Alex said suddenly. “The woman in my head is filling it with a combination of juniper sharpness, sour mixed with sweet, and fermented wood. Plus, there is a hint of tallow smoke.”
“You have all those smells inside your head?”
“I have lived with this for many years, Ambrose, and I assure you I have become quite adept at deciphering scents.”
Ambrose asked questions because he was going slowly mad wondering what hell Tilly was being subjected to. “Is it hard, what you all have. Does it sometimes—”
“Make you go mad? Absolutely, but we have one another and have learned how to block things when we need to. Right now, this woman could be the only way we find Tilly, so I’m letting her in.”
“I remember what you did for Violet. It is truly a gift, Alex.” His sister had struggled after the death of her fiancé, and Alex had helped her hugely.
“Thank you. It is seeing the effects on people I talk to about their loved ones who have passed that makes it all worthwhile.”
They walked until a gin shop was located. Sniffing the air, Alex said the scent was the same, which Ambrose thought was likely true of any gin shop, but he kept that to himself.
When he entered the building, a wave of scents hit him that were just as Alex had described, but it was also mixed with the sour body odors of the patrons drinking there.
“Keep your eyes out for a child, I think she is our key, and perhaps that is where I am being led,” Alex said.
“Why would a child be in here?”
“This is not your world, Ambrose. Children work in such places every day.”
Ambrose loathed people patronizing him but knew Alex was right. He’d led a sheltered life of privilege, and it was not until he’d grown close to the Nightingales and been involved in the handling of the Pavlov fortune that he’d really understood that.
“So where is the child?” Ambrose could hear the desperation in his voice.
Alex looked at him as they stood there among the noise and gin smells as some people drank to forget their lives, or because they couldn’t live without it, but whatever he’d been about to say, he didn’t. Instead he walked through the patrons to a door that would likely lead to the kitchens.
“You can’t go in there.”
The woman wasn’t tall but she was wide, big-boned like Mavis, and the look on her face suggested she’d seen everything there was on offer in this life, and she wasn’t impressed by it.
“I need to find a child—a girl, madam. She has long dark hair and, I believe, blue eyes. She may hold the answer to locating our friend who is missing.”
She studied Alex as he spoke. Her eyes then went to Ambrose, ran down his body, taking in the expensive fabric of his overcoat, and top hat, and then down to his boots.
“I can pay you for this information,” Ambrose added.
She made a gesture with her head that indicated they should follow.
“She’s either leading us somewhere to be beaten and stolen from or to the child,” Alex said over his shoulder. “Be alert.”
The scents of the kitchen mingled with the gin, and then they were stepping out a rear door behind the woman.
“Ginny!” The bellow brought a small girl out of the shadows. “These men are going to pay us to talk to you.” She looked at them. “Is this the one?”
“I am unsure,” Ambrose said.
“We need Ellen or Theo,” Alex muttered.
Ambrose had plenty of experience with children, but rarely ones who lived the life this girl did.
“She’s my niece. Her ma died,” the woman said.
The girl shot her aunt a nervous look.
“Now, Ginny, I need to ask you some questions, and don’t be afraid, as I will not harm you in any way,” Ambrose said.
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
“I have three sisters, Ginny. Do you have any?”
She shook her head.
“We have nicknames for each other,” he continued, trying to show he meant her no harm. “My name is Ambrose, but they call me Rosie, and next it is Cissa, Tavi, and lastly Pixie, as she is the youngest and smallest.”
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
“Pixie’s best friend is who we are trying to find. They have been close for some time. Do you have a friend like that?”
She nodded this time.
“So you see how sad she is that her friend, Tilly—that’s her name—is missing.”
“Just ask the question,” the woman snapped from behind them.
Ambrose heard Alex talking to her but focused on the child.
“Have you seen her, Ginny? Tilly was at Lolly’s Bookshop today, and then she was to go home, but she did not make it, and now everyone who cares about her is very worried.”
The girl looked at him solemnly but did not speak.
“Or would anyone you know be aware of her location who we can talk to?” Ambrose pulled some coins out of his pocket, and a hand appeared with a twist of paper, which he took. Like Tilly, Alex always had sweets.
“You can have these if you like?” Ambrose opened the paper and held them out to her. She took a peppermint stick—just the one—and stuck it in her mouth. He did the same. “Peppermint sticks are my favorite behind sherbert lemons.”
“Take the money,” the woman snapped, and the girl did as she was told.
“Follow me,” Ginny said around her peppermint stick.
He regained his feet, and with Alex on his heels, they followed the girl hoping she was leading them to Tilly. She ran, nipping down lanes and across roads with the ease of someone who knew her surroundings well.
When she finally stopped, he was breathing hard, as was Alex.
“I did it cus they paid me, but I didn’t want her hurt, and they hurt her.”
Every muscle in his body clenched at the words. He would kill whoever had laid a hand on Tilly.
“I went in to see where she was, and she’s in a box.”
“Where, Ginny?” Ambrose said, trying to keep his tone calm.
“In there. Two men are guarding her. They’re by the door, playing cards,” Ginny said. “I didn’t want her hurt,” she whispered.
He didn’t comment on the fact that if she was luring Tilly here, in all likelihood that was going to happen.
“Is there another way inside?” Alex asked.
She started walking around the building to the rear, toward what looked to be a wood box. “That goes down, but there are stairs to where she is.”
Ambrose crouched before her again. “I need you to find the others who are looking for her now, Ginny. A big red-haired Scotsman, two women, and six men. Can you do that for me and send them here?
She nodded and then took off as fast as she’d run here, disappearing into the shadows without another word.
“So, we could be walking into our doom, or Tilly is in there. Considering the agitation of the woman in my head, I’m thinking it’s the latter,” Alex said. “I say we give it a few minutes, and Ginny some time to find them, before we enter.”
“We need—”
“I know, but we will only do Tilly harm if we go in there and are confronted by more than two men and are captured ourselves, Ambrose. I feel your fear, as it matches mine, but we must do this right.”
Fear. He wanted to refute the word. His fear had grown into terror. Instead, he walked back and forth across the few feet on offer to him and waited until he could stand it no more.
“You know Tilly is a wonderful woman, and I’m sure when we get her back, and life returns to normal, she will be quite happy with Howard,” Alex said, as if they were strolling in the park gossiping, which privately he loathed.
“What?”
“Howard is a good man, and I gather has shown an interest in Tilly. It is an excellent match.”
He stalked over to where Alex stood, stopping a foot away, and glared at him. “I cannot believe we are having this conversation now, when she is terrified and alone somewhere.” The words came out a snarl. “And it is not a good match.”
“Why, when she has accepted no other and has had several seasons?”
“Are you suggesting she is not worthy of the attentions of someone of higher rank?” Ambrose hadn’t realized his fist had clenched until he looked down. He opened his hand wide, splaying his fingers.
“A woman of her age and position must be reasonable,” Alex said calmly.
Ambrose wanted to punch him hard. “Shut up,” he said precisely.
“Admit you have feelings for her, Ambrose.”
He swore softly beneath his breath and only said, “Enough time has passed. I am going inside.”
Ambrose went to the wooden box, raised the lid, opened the latch on the half door, and then quietly took the stairs down.
Easing the pistol from his waistband, he looked around the dark space.
Nothing but crates and sacks of coal. Finding another set of stairs, he climbed. At the top, there was a trapdoor.
“My hope is they are not playing cards directly above us,” Alex whispered having followed him.
Ambrose pushed the door and eased it up a few inches so he could look inside the warehouse. Weak light came from somewhere to his right, but it was the shape a few feet from where he stood that held his gaze. A crate. She was inside, he was sure of it. Could he feel her, or was it wishful thinking?
“She’s close,” Alex whispered in his ear.
Ambrose pushed the door fully open, then crept up the remaining stairs and out with Alex on his heels again. Clutching the pistol, he moved toward the crate.
Suddenly noise exploded around them as the door slid open. Familiar faces rushed in and toward the two men who had appeared. Mungo roared and ran at one, taking him down with a single punch. Charles kicked out with a foot and dropped the other.
Ambrose ran to the crate, opened the lock, and raised the lid.
“Tilly,” he rasped, reaching for her. He picked her up and lifted her out. “I have you now. You’re safe.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed her face into his shirt as she started to cry deep, heart-wrenching sobs that could only have come from extreme emotion like fear, which she had surely battled for the hours she’d been in that small, dark space.
“Safe,” he repeated, tightening his hold on her.
“Tilly!” Violet had arrived, her hands going to her friend’s back. “Thank God we have found you.”
But Tilly didn’t speak because she couldn’t, as right then, the indomitable Miss Wilson had no strength left. She was completely undone.