Page 54 of A Stolen Heart

A faint smile touched Thorpe’s face for the first time since he had heard of Alexandra’s abduction. “You know me well.”

“I should hope so, sir,” Murdock said with an air of indignation as he followed Thorpe out of the room.

A few minutes later their carriage pulled up in front of a tavern in the East End of London, a seedy place that, from the looks of it, was unused to customers arriving in carriages. A drunk, staggering out the door of the tavern, stopped and goggled at the sight of Lord Thorpe stepping from the vehicle, followed by Murdock. The driver glanced around the narrow street uneasily and was glad that Murdock had ordered him to bring the burliest of his grooms with him.

Inside the tavern, Murdock looked around until he spotted one of his men. A nod from the man indicated the table in the corner, where a large man sat with two smaller cronies, downing a glass of ale. Murdock and Thorpe strode through the crowded tavern and stopped beside the table. All three men looked up, bleary-eyed.

Murdock directed a hard look at the two companions and jerked his head in an unmistakable directive to leave. They glanced uncertainly at their large companion, then melted away. Murdock and Thorpe sat down, one on each side of the large man.

“Wot d’you want?” the man asked, slurring his words.

“Just to have a chat, Mr….”

“Peggoddy.” The man scowled. “’Oo wants to know?”

Thorpe ignored his question. “I understand you came into quite a bit of money today,” Thorpe said pleasantly.

Peggoddy looked at him suspiciously. “So? Wot’s it to you?”

Thorpe’s lips moved in something resembling a smile, but so chilling that the man slid back a little in his seat. “You were paid a bit to kidnap a young woman.”

“No. Never.” Peggoddy looked pleased with himself. “’E only said to take care of the old biddy. I thought of the wench on me own. Soon as I saw ‘er, I thought, ‘Madam’d pay a bit to get one like that.’ Quality an’ all, you know, an’ lookin’ like she did.”

Thorpe’s fingers curled into his palms, but he kept his voice level.

“How did she look?”

“Wot?”

“Describe her.”

Peggoddy looked at him oddly. “Wot you want to know for?”

“Never mind that. Just tell me.” He reached in his waistcoat and pulled out a silver coin, which he slid across the table invitingly.

Peggoddy snatched up the coin, saying, “Black hair, curly like. Fair skin. A looker, that one.”

Sebastian wanted to wrap his hands around the man’s throat and squeeze the leer from his face, but he forced himself to keep still. “Did you hurt her?” he asked, his voice like rust.

“The girl? I never touched ‘er.” He sounded disappointed. “She were a ripe ‘un, too. But I knew madam’d ‘ave my ‘ead if I damaged ‘er. Why, she docked me ‘cause o’ that little bruise on ‘er cheek—as if I could ‘elp that! She come flyin’ at me, and I ‘ad to do somethin’, didn’ I?”

“I’m sure.” Thorpe controlled his voice with an effort.

“Were only a tap, anyway.”

“Where did you take her? Who is this madam?”

Peggoddy grinned slyly. “Oh, no, I ain’t tellin’ you that.” The large man shook his head and took another quaff of ale. “She wouldn’t like it. Madam’s particular like that.”

“I am particular, too,” Thorpe replied, sliding a gold coin across the table toward Peggoddy. He lifted his hand to reveal it, then laid his hand over it again. “Now tell me where you took her.”

The man swallowed, staring greedily at Thorpe’s hand. Finally, with reluctance, he shook his head. “No. Madam’d ‘ave my ‘ead if I ratted on ‘er.”

“You’re scared of her?” Thorpe’s voice dripped scorn.

The man looked abashed, but he said only, “You don’t know madam. You cross ‘er, and yer dead with ‘er.”

Thorpe leaned forward conversationally. “And you’re dead, period, if you don’t.”