Page 2 of A Problem Princess

“I don’t believe that anyone wi’ half a mind would risk findin’ his own neck in a noose the same way Hawking done.”

Clayton’s heart skipped. No one outside the Home Office knew that the late Marquess of Hawking had been connected to Scepter. He’d been arrested, tried, and executed for the kidnapping and attempted murder of Baroness Rowland and her son, along with a litany of other treasonous and murderous acts. But not once had Scepter’s name been mentioned in any part of the proceedings.

Clayton kept his voice controlled as he calmly asked, “How doyouknow about Hawking’s connection to Scepter?”

Burton’s eyes flared at his mistake.

Clayton slowly stalked forward until the tip of his pistol’s barrel pressed into the soft flesh under the man’s chin. “Tell me.”

“I–I know people, an’ I hear th-things,” Burton rushed out and raised his hands from his sides in a gesture of surrender. “That’s why ye pay me for information, ain’t it? ’Cause I got connections.”

“Yes, but I never realized how deep your connections ran until right now.” Clayton pressed the pistol harder under Burton’s chin. The man was forced to tilt his head backward so far that he stared up into the black London sky and the rain that fell in a steady, cold drizzle. “How do you know about Hawking’s connection to Scepter?”

Burton swallowed so hard that Clayton could hear the terrified sound from two feet away. “Had me suspicions ’bout the man when he started hangin’ ’round the docks, so one day I followed ’im. He weren’t careful enough to know I was sneakin’ after.” The rainwater ran down his face like tears, and his breath emerged in a cloud of fog on the cold evening air. “Followed him all the way t’ that fancy house o’ his in Mayfair. Asked a servant in the street who lived there—that’s how I found ’im.”

“Why follow him? Did you plan on blackmailing him? Tell him you’d keep his secret if he paid for your silence?”

Burton nodded, and his flabby chin rocked the barrel of the pistol beneath it.

“You damned fool,” Clayton muttered. “You were lucky he was arrested before he killed you.”

The man squeezed his eyes shut. “I needed the money. Got sick family an’ doctor’s bills to pay.”

That was a lie if ever Clayton had heard one. Most likely the man had a favorite whore he wanted to spoil, along with all the finery and ease for himself that Hawking’s money could have bought.

He stepped back but kept his pistol pointed at the man’s chest. Burton was just stupid enough to charge him, but if he tried, Clayton would kill him where he stood.

“What else do you know about Scepter?” Clayton demanded.

Looking relieved to have the gun away from his chin, Burton shook his head. “Nothin’.”

“Don’t lie to me, you son of a—”

“Nothing!”

Clayton pointed the pistol at Burton’s head and stared down the barrel. “One…”

“I told you! I told you everythin’ I know. I swear it!”

“Two…”

“All right! All right, please!” Burton put up his hands in a gesture of mercy and shook violently, a coward at heart. “All the men left in Scepter are just waitin’, sittin’ low an’ waitin’ for a signal.”

Hawking had said the same to Clayton before he was hanged. “What kind of signal?”

“Don’t know, but a big one. They’ll act then, an’ the new man who’s comin’ from the Continent will step into Hawking’s shoes an’ lead Scepter, just like Boney coming back from Elba. Then everythin’ changes. That’s what I heard.Everythingchanges.” Burton chuckled nervously. “Like I said, just a bunch of stories.”

That didn’t put Clayton at ease. Neither did St Mary’s bells tolling through the fog and darkness. He counted…seven bells.

Damnation.He was running late.

He eased down the hammer of the pistol and lowered it to his side. It was time to give Burton his reward. “Go see Captain Smith on theMercury. It’s leaving Greenwich tomorrow. He’s expecting you.” But Clayton wouldn’t forgive Burton for his betrayal. “Donotcome back to London.”

In reply, Burton spat on the ground again. The glob of saliva landed less than a foot from Clayton’s boot.

Clayton laughed at him, turned, and walked out of the alley.

“Don’t think you’ll be findin’ Scepter’s new leader ’mong the sailors an’ porters on the docks,” Burton called out after him. “Or anywhere in the stews or slums, that’s fer sure. Look fer him in Westminster wi’ the rest of ye snobs an’ nobs!”