Page 68 of Honor Unbound

“So I can stand on the carriage and look in the window.” Obviously.

He groaned. “Lady Mary….”

“Oh, just go get the carriage, will you?” Two night watchmen strolled across the next cross street, and I huddled back into the shadows. I shooed Ernest, flapping my hands at him. “Go quickly.”

If he rolled his eyes, it was too dark for me to notice. It wasn’t a minute later when he drove my carriage around the corner and headed toward me.

I scooted out of the way. The horses hesitated at the edge of the pavement but with Ernest’s prodding pulled the coach into position.

“Good job.” The carriage was too close to the building’s wall for me to climb up on the driver’s side. I hurried around to the other side and called up to Ernest. “Help me up.”

It wasn’t gracefully done, but I found myself on the driver’s seat. I sidled past Ernest so I could rest my hand on the building’s wall. Carefully, I stepped up onto the roof of the carriage.

“Ma’am, I’m not sure that’s safe.” Worry coated Ernest’s words. “The roof isn’t meant for walking on.”

“Nonsense. We carry heavy trunks up here.” My pulse leapt as the roof seemed to sink beneath my boot. Of course, the weight of those trunks was diffused among a larger surface area. I pushed that worrying thought from my head as I took another step and found myself face to window. I eagerly peered down into the high-ceilinged room below. It was carpeted in red from wall to wall with twinkling crystal chandeliers dotting the ceiling.

I don’t know what I expected. Dancing ladies in scanty gowns frolicking among the patrons? Fist fights breaking out when someone lost at a table? Instead, it all looked so orderly. Ordinary. Men sat around several tables. More stood along a bar, conversing and drinking. I squinted. There was a woman sitting half on one gentleman’s lap, but she was fully clothed and modestly attired.

I sniffed. My club was much more entertaining.

“Well? Do you see him?” Ernest asked.

I scanned the men’s faces. It took me a moment, but I found Mr. Platt speaking with two men near the front door. “I see him.”

“Begging your pardon, Lady Mary, but what do you expect to see? He’s not about to start shouting ‘I’m a killer’ among his chums, is he?”

That was a good point, but I was tired of passively tagging after my suspects. At least I felt like I was doing something. And one never knew. “He might meet with someone suspicious.”

A man did approach, sending my pulse tripping. My shoulders sagged. It was only his friend, Mr. Randall. After a bit more conversation, one of the two men Platt was speaking to pulled a leather pouch from his pocket and handed Platt some coin.

I couldn’t hear them, of course, but I could see Platt mouthing words of thanks and clasping the man’s hand warmly. “Well, if Platt killed his brother-in-law for money, he did a poor job of it. He’s still borrowing from his friends.” And being reckless with those funds. Platt headed straight toward one of the gaming tables.

With that pile of coins now in his possession, this could very well be a long night, and I didn’t want to be standing atop my carriage for the duration. “All right, Ernest, help me—”

I ducked. The heel of my boot punctured the roof of the carriage, and I reached for Ernest to steady myself. “Drat. I think he saw me. He looked right at the window.”

“I see you, too,” a deep voice intoned, the barest hint of Irish teasing the edges. “What, Lady Mary, do you think you’re doing?”

Ernest, bless his heart, straightened and puffed out his chest to face the threat.

Unfortunately, that resulted in my losing my grip on his arm and plopping rear end first to the roof of the carriage.

I adjusted my bonnet with as much dignity as I could muster. “Mr. Cooke. How unexpected. How are you this fine evening?”

The crime lord sat upon a large black horse, his figure almost melting into the night. Dark clothes, dark top hat, even black gloves gripping black reins. His horse pawed impatiently at the ground.

“I was doing well until I found two ne’er-do-wells making mischief about one of my businesses,” he said. “A man in my position takes such threats seriously.”

Those words coming from the mouth of that type of man would have been menacing if not for the humor laced through them. It would be a mistake, however, to not take him seriously.

“One moment.” I drew my shoulders back. “Youare callingmea ne’er-do-well?”

He inclined his head. “I don’t usually find upstanding citizens crawling about on top of carriages, peering through windows. What are you about, Lady Mary?”

Ernest helped me to the driver’s seat. I tugged on the hem of my pelisse. “I was curious to see what goes on in a hell during its most popular time. I’ve only been in your hell during the day. This one is yours, as well?”

He nodded.