Chapter Two #4
“Keep it down!” Willard snapped. “We wouldn’t want to rouse the watch.” He fixed Neville with a speaking gaze. “Or disturb the illustrious, or should I say alluring, residents of this street. One in particular…”
Heart in his throat, Neville followed Willard’s gaze down the row to D’Acre House.
“I wonder which one of the rooms she occupies,” Willard mused.
“What’s he on about?” one pack dog whispered to another.
“Haven’t the foggiest,” the other answered in an exaggerated whisper.
“What do you want, Willard?” Neville demanded.
“I want for nothing, as you should know. Unlike some…”
Did Willard know of Neville’s low supply of coin?
Had he somehow learned that Neville had spent the last six months bribing his way through every wayside inn between London and Brighton seeking someone who could verify John’s version of events?
Or was Willard only fishing?
Neville prayed for the latter.
Willard clucked his tongue in a disapproving manner. “You should have learned by now. I can, in fact, acquire anything my heart desires, if I apply myself to the task. But some things simply aren’t worth the trouble. Such as, for instance, the “thing” I let you steal. Boys, me boys…”
Steal. Neville had never stolen anything from Willard. The only thing he’d done “to” the man was teach Asquith to fight, this depriving Willard of his favorite victim at the time. But this confrontation wasn’t just about Asquith.
Willard’s gaze moved back to D’Acre House.
Neville shivered, suddenly aware that, while he’d donned his coat, he’d come out with neither hat nor gloves. He’d wanted to stop Willard’s old school taunt before Asquith heard. He hadn’t even been thinking of Millicent…at least not directly.
Then again, Millicent was never far from his thoughts.
He forced himself to calm. Best to pretend he had understood only the reference to Asquith and to ignore Willard’s ominous mention of alluring residents. Any sign of unease would cause Willard to escalate his attacks.
Fear was Willard’s favorite meal.
“Well,” Neville sighed, “you may seek whatever that heart desires elsewhere. Asquith has passed out and cannot appreciate your little joke.” He only hoped the table was far enough back in Blackwell’s parlor that Willard could not immediately discover his lie. “You’ve wasted your time, old friend.”
“Ah, Asquith.” Willard sighed as if thinking of someone dear. “Simple Simon. S—”
“That’s enough,” Neville cut him off.
“I say, Neville!” Preston stepped forward, in an obvious attempt to get back into Willard’s good graces. “You can’t talk to Lord Willard like that!”
“Neville was only joking,” Willard replied. “Weren’t you? Old school chums share lots of jokes. Like this one.”
Willard took out a ring from his pocket. Next, he held it up to the light to make sure Neville recognized the piece.
Neville did, and his blood iced.
Willard threw it into the air.
Instinctively, Neville jerked forward, reaching for the jewel. But Willard closed his fingers over the damning evidence before Neville could snatch it away.
“Yes…” Willard continued, “old, old chums. But ones with some surprising new connections.” He tucked the ring back into his waistcoat pocket. “Brings to mind another rhyme from our old school days. Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John…”
“You may have the ring.” Neville forced himself to keep breathing evenly. “But the plot didn’t quite work out as you planned, did it?”
Willard lost his smile. “Not yet.”
“Why now?” Neville asked.
Willard shrugged. “Slight for slight. I’ve been waiting a long time. Johnny boy’s trouble took planning.” He smiled. “As for earlier tonight, that was a happy accident.” He glanced back at D’Acre House. “You should learn to keep your emotions off your face.”
“Stay away from them both,” Neville gritted. “And, yes, that’s a warning.”
“Good God,” one young man from the group grumbled. “All anyone around here can do is make cryptic references and argue about silly children’s rhymes. Meanwhile, my ballocks are half frozen!”
Uncharacteristically, Willard chuckled.
“Can’t have frozen ballocks, now, can we? Not where we’re headed. I rounded up a choice bit for you all the other day.” He pushed off the lamppost. “Let us move along, then, men.”
Willard continued to laugh as he led away his pack.
He disappeared down an alley, and with him, any hope Neville had of retrieving his brother’s ring.
His only comfort? Most of the group were too drunk to remember much of the encounter, so no one else but he and Willard were likely to deduce the ring’s significance.
Not yet.
He glanced back up at the dark windows of D’Acre House.
Millicent was, right now, behind one of those blank panes, unaware she’d become a pawn.
He vowed anew to defeat Willard. He’d done so before, when he’d rescued Asquith from Willard’s torture when they were back at school.
Only this time, things weren’t as simple as teaching a boy to fight.
But he had a witness. And, if she identified Willard at the theater tomorrow night, he’d have the means to start planning a trap.
With so much more at stake, he could not fail to best the blackguard again.