Page 117 of Notorious

Gabriel set down his cup, his jaw tight. “Did Rowland ever tell you about his gambling?”

“No—he said he hated gambling, that it was the downfall of his father.”

“The second part of what you say is true. But as to the first—well, Rowland owes money to several people. A great deal of money.”

Her cup and saucer clattered, and tea sloshed over the side. Gabriel reached across and took it from her, setting it down on the tray before continuing.

“He lost his lodgings and sold most of his possessions about ten days ago. He’s been living with his cousin since then. It seems they had a falling out over something and Visel turfed him out. I lost track of him after that.”

“Wait—you mean you’ve been following him?”

“Yes, since the night he met you in the garden. Byer and I split the task and his valet also helped.” He grimaced. “I’m ashamed to say we lost track of Rowland on my watch. He went into a—” He stopped, his cheeks darkening. “Well, he went into a brothel.”

“You followed him into a brothel?” It was all she could do to force the words out.

“It is because I didn’t follow him inside that he was able to disappear.” He gave her a wry look. “You see how well you’ve trained your husband without even realizing it?”

It was Drusilla’s turn to blush.

“I waited for hours. And when Byer came, he waited for hours.” He coughed. “Although he waited inside. Which is how he found out that Rowland had left hours earlier—that he’d gone with another man to a card game in an adjacent building. The men had left through the servants’ entrance for convenience.” He shook his head. “And that was the last we saw of him.”

“Why do you think he would have taken Sami? What could he—”

A sharp rap on the door interrupted her. Parker rushed inside the room, his cheeks flushed. “This just came for you, sir.”

Gabriel took the folded rectangle. “Who delivered it?”

“A boy from The Greenman,” he said, naming a posting inn on the north end of the city. “But he said he was paid in advance to deliver it—double his usual amount. He said the man who paid him was slight with curly dark brown hair.”

Drusilla and Gabriel stared at each other: Rowland fit that description.

“You may go, Parker.” Gabriel waited until the door closed before breaking the seal.

Drusilla felt sick. “My God, it is Rowland.”

He read it out loud:

“Marlington:

“By now you will know the boy is gone. He is unharmed and will remain so as long as you do exactly what I say. I want 10,000£ and I will give you until tomorrow night to gather it. You will receive a message tomorrow at nine o’clock telling you where to take the money and how to go about it. If you do not follow the directions to the letter—if you think to send a Runner, for example—you will never see the boy again. I know Drusilla has the money, so I will not tolerate any delaying tactics. Also, don’t try any tricks. I will not hesitate to carry out my threat. I shall accept the money from nobody other than Drusilla—alone.”

Gabriel handed her the note. “Of course he did not sign it—do you recognize the handwriting?”

Drusilla glanced at the letter and then handed it back. “It is his writing.”

Gabriel strode to his desk, tossed down the letter, and then pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer and sat.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing to my mother.”

Drusilla went to stand over the desk. “Does she know Rowland has been stalking us?”

“No, but she will be able to get the money quickly. I’m afraid I simply do not have such an amount lying around. It would take me days to assemble it.”

His words were like a slap. She leaned forward and splayed her hand in the middle of the piece of paper, forcing him to look at her.

He was already shaking his head. “No. I will not take your money. Nor will you deliver it to that worm.” He frowned, his expression fierce enough to make her shiver. “The nerve of—”