A Matter of Grave Concern (14 page)

So he was taking on more than just the search for his sister.

Abigail sank onto the stool of the vanity. “How old is Madeline? And how in the world did she ever become acquainted with Big Jack?”

The lines that creased Max’s forehead grew more distinct, suggesting it pained him to talk about this, to even think about his sister, but he answered the question. “She is younger than me by six years, so twenty-three.” He closed his eyes as he shook his head, obviously remembering. “And she has had a rough life, was not nearly as well protected or cared for as I was.”

“Why would there be such a difference?” Abby asked. “Was she . . . difficult?”

“Not especially. She was born to a different mother. Her mother died ten years ago and my father insisted we take her in, but . . . it was never a decision that rested easy with my mother. I fear she was cruel in myriad small ways.”

Abby sifted through the puzzle pieces he had revealed to her thus far, trying to form a complete picture. “Your sister was illegitimate?”

He nodded. “When she first moved in, my father did what he could to stand by her, but then he grew ill. By the time he died, Madeline was pregnant with her own bastard child and my mother simply would not abide her any longer.”

“What happened?”

“She was tossed out to scrape by on her own.”

“With a child.”

He winced. “Yes.”

“And you . . .”

“I did nothing to stop my mother.” His words sounded hollow. “I felt I owed her my loyalty, allowed her to poison my brain.” He sighed as he ran a hand over his face. “Never mind. Excuses change nothing. Suffice it to say that I sincerely regret my inaction.”

“I see.” Max’s place in
this
world was finally making sense to Abby—but who was he really? What was his other life like? He was obviously educated, and his clothes and the sterling silver brush and mirror set he had bought for her suggested he didn’t come from an impoverished family, like Jack and the others. “So that man at the warehouse . . . he is helping you with this search? Is that what you two were talking about the day we went there?”

“Yes. Mr. Hawley is my clerk.”

More clarity. “Then . . . that warehouse is yours?” She was guessing, given the treatment he had received from the clerk, which had seemed slightly deferential. “You’re a merchant?”

He returned his attention to some point beyond the window. “You could say that, yes.”

“Then you were telling the truth when you said you don’t need the money you stole from the college.”

“If Jack hadn’t come back when he did, I would have given you all forty guineas and sent you home.” He gripped the windowsill. “I would have figured out a way to return your elephant, too, if doing so would have kept you out of this.” He let go. “I’m sorry.”

But . . . she wasn’t absolutely convinced that life as usual would have been the best thing for her. It wasn’t until she came here, until she experienced what it was like to sleep in his bed, to taste his kiss and experience his touch, that she felt she had truly lived. She’d thought she wanted to be a surgeon. She was pretty sure she
still
wanted that. But mostly, she wanted to help others, to make a difference in the world,
to matter to someone
.

“You wish we never would have seen each other again?”

“I wish you were never involved,” he said. “This has been no place for a woman. And surely what’s happened will make your situation harder at home.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I am an independent woman. I can take care of myself.”

“Abby, Madeline probably thought the same thing. But
something
terrible has happened in spite of that confidence. She would not leave her son without so much as a good-bye. Not unless she had no choice.”

A chill ran down Abby’s spine. Jack had always frightened her. He frightened her even worse now. “Who is caring for the boy?”

“I am.”

“How? Where?”

“He is at my home. I have hired a nanny as well as a tutor.”

Abby had more questions than ever, but before she could ask them, she heard Jack’s tread on the stairs. He was coming back after seeing the constable off.

Max motioned in case she hadn’t noticed and fell silent. Together, they listened to his approach and, when he sounded close, Max unlocked the door.

Chapter 15

“That was bloody genius!” Jack clapped Max on the back as he walked in. “Whatever did you do to get her to lie like that?”

“Nothing,” Max said.

“You didn’t threaten her? Or her father?”

“No. I was relying on being able to dodge the authorities if they showed up. And I’m confident that would have been enough—without Tom. His betrayal changed the situation considerably.”

“He’s a fool,” Jack grumbled. “Does he think I’ll just let this go? I’ll find him. I know where his no-good brother lives.”

Abby believed Tom would indeed pay a high price should Jack ever have the opportunity for revenge. She wasn’t pleased with Tom herself. If he were still in the house, still in Jack’s good graces, he wouldn’t have done anything to help her. But, in spite of that, part of her—the part that identified with his isolation and loneliness—was proud that he had found the nerve to stand up to Jack, who had been so assured he would return cowed and beaten.

“We need to let Abby go,” Max said to Jack. “The sooner the better.”

“Why now?” Jack demanded.

“Because her father will be here shortly. Get her elephant and the money we took from the college, and we’ll send her on her way.”

Jack’s expression darkened considerably. “I can’t give her the money. I’ve already passed everyone their fair share.”

“We could all give it back or, barring that, replace as much of it as possible with what we earn tonight.”

“There’s no need to go so far,” Jack argued. “She told the constable herself that she wasn’t Abigail. That should be the end of it.”

“It won’t be,” Max insisted. “Her father will come here, if not today then tomorrow.”

“How do
you
know?”

“Imagine sitting at the college, awaiting word of
your
daughter,” Max said. “You believe she has been found and will be returned to you shortly. Instead, you hear some strange story about a prostitute being locked in a bedroom at the location where your daughter was supposed to be—a prostitute with the same physical characteristics. Mr. Hale might take that as an odd coincidence, don’t you think?”

“So what if he does? He’ll have the constable’s word it wasn’t her. The constable heard it from her own lips.”

“I’m telling you that’s not enough,” Max said.

“It’ll have to be!” Jack retorted. “We gotta live somehow. Hale doesn’t have the bollocks to come down here, regardless. Even if he does, I can make damn sure he doesn’t make it back.”

“No!” Abby cried but Max motioned her to silence.

“And risk a noose around your neck? For forty guineas? Why? We would be much smarter to give her some money and let her go.”

But, as long as she could let her father know she was safe, Abby wasn’t sure she
wanted
to go back to Aldersgate. Not so soon.

“What if she opens her trap, if not now then later on?” Jack asked. “What’s to stop her from telling her father it was us all along? That constable could come back, you know. I say we keep her
and
the money. We’re in the clear, Max!”

“No, we’re not!”

“If Hale comes here, we’ll tell him to bugger off.
He
won’t be toting no warrant.”

Abby knew what she was about to suggest was lunacy, but she couldn’t imagine leaving Max here to figure out the mystery of his sister’s disappearance alone. Remote though the possibility was, what if Madeline was still alive? What if they could save her if they reached her in time? Certainly two pairs of eyes and ears would be better than one. Abby could always go to her aunt’s bucolic village of Ewyas Harold in Herefordshire
after
they did all they could to save Madeline. “If you will give me the money you took so that I can return it to the college along with a note for my father, letting him know I’m safe, I will stay and . . . and help you make far more than forty guineas.”

Both men gaped at her. Then Max shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not!” she said. “I didn’t give the constable a name. All we have to do is find a prostitute of similar height, hair and eye color, pay her to say she was here when the constable arrived and direct my father to her if he comes. As long as I remain out of sight, he should be convinced.”

“
What?
” Max obviously couldn’t believe she would go so far as to join
Jack’s
side of the argument when he had been fighting for her release. But what was waiting for her at home that wouldn’t still be waiting in a few days or weeks? By now Bransby would have told everyone at the college that she had been dealing with body snatchers the night before she went missing. To salvage his knighthood and maybe even his career, her father would
have
to send her into exile the moment she returned. And there was nothing for her to do in the country, except submit to her aunt—a religious zealot bent on reforming her so that she would one day become as docile as a woman should be.

“I want to stay here, to take Tom’s place,” she said.

Again, Max spoke before Jack could. “Absolutely not!”

Abby held up a hand. “Listen to me before you decide. I can do things Tom could not.”

“And he can do things a woman cannot,” Max responded. “Like go out alone.”

“I can go to certain places, during the day. A cemetery would be one of those places. Women, even in these parts, do it all the time. But where Tom stood out in a crowd and looked . . . disreputable, even alarming, I don’t. In the right clothes, I would appear quite respectable, which means I should be able to fall in with almost any mourning party.” She grabbed the dress she had sewn from where she had it stowed under the bed. “See this? I could wear this.”

“Where the hell—wait a minute!” A murderous expression descended on Max’s face. “That’s the fabric from my coat! Don’t tell me you—you did!” he breathed in sheer disbelief.

She shied away from his anger. She could tell he wasn’t used to having anyone appropriate his belongings for their own use, which again made her wonder about his life outside of the role he was playing here in Wapping. “You wanted me to stay busy.”

When Jack threw back his head and laughed, Max’s jaw tightened. Jack’s pleasure in what she had done wasn’t helping her cause. “I’m beginning to like this wench,” he said.

“I don’t care if you like her or not, she can’t stay,” Max responded, getting back to the business at hand. “It’s not safe. Would you see her arrested along with us if we are ever caught?”

“That should be
my
decision.” Abigail tried to interject, but Jack spoke over her.

“No one’s goin’ to be caught.”

Max sneered at his words. “You can’t promise that.”

“Maybe not,” he allowed, “but I say it’s worth the risk. Like she said, a woman can get much closer to a mourning party than we probably could. You don’t want to get blown to bits, do you?”

Confusion momentarily trumped the other emotions Max was exhibiting. “Blown to bits?”

“I’m talking about the booby traps some of the families set to protect the deceased. Or maybe you didn’t hear about the father who filled his child’s coffin with gunpowder and fused it so that it would explode if anyone tried to pry it open.” He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Times are hard, Max. But we wouldn’t have to worry so much about running into gunpowder and the like if an innocent like Abby does our scouting. Who wouldn’t trust a face like hers?” He lowered his voice meaningfully. “And think of the comfort and pleasure she’ll bring you at night.”

At that, Max seemed more adamant than ever. “I said no.”

Abigail propped her hands on her hips. “How much easier would it be to pay off your gambling debts if you were to sell two or three more corpses a week? That’s the entire amount in the college’s purse, but you would be making it again and again.”

“Why would you want to help with such work?” Max asked.

For Jack’s sake, she pressed a hand to her abdomen and pretended to be fighting tears. “Because I might be with child. You can’t expect me to go back to my father this way. I’ll be a disgrace!”

Max was so stunned he seemed at a loss for words, but Jack spoke up. “A woman with child would be even less suspicious.”

“You are
not
carrying my baby,” Max said, ignoring him.

Abby lifted her chin. “It’s too early to tell but . . . it’s a possibility, right?”

He couldn’t argue, not without giving away the truth. Jack believed they had been intimate—Max had made sure he believed it. “Having you here would never work,” he said instead.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Jack wanted to know. “She’s a clever one—far more clever and brave than Tom. It took nerve for her to come all the way from Smithfield, at night, on her own. And if she becomes one of us, we won’t ever have to worry about her going to the police, because she’ll be in it just as deep.”

In it just as deep
. . . Truer words had never been spoken, Abby realized. If she got caught helping this gang steal bodies from the various cemeteries, no one would ever believe she had been kidnapped.

She wasn’t the least bit sure she was making the right decision, but she wanted to help Max find his sister. She also wanted to do something to avenge the poor woman who’d been on the couch and might have been murdered by Jack or someone associated with him. And since her father would be better off if she kept her distance from him and the college, at least for a period of time now that things had gone so far, why not aid the cause of justice instead of sitting in her aunt’s parlor, tucked away in the middle of nowhere, doing needlepoint?

Remaining in her current situation involved a degree of risk. She would be a fool not to acknowledge that. But it was exciting at the same time—and lending a hand was the right thing to do. If she was no longer being held against her will, perhaps she would have the chance to leave if her situation became
too
tenuous.

“What will you tell your father?” Max asked, as if that alone was an insurmountable obstacle.

“In the letter? That I’m fine. That I will return soon. That I’m sorry about publicly humiliating him and causing him to worry. That’s all he needs to know. Anything more will cause bigger problems. And we will have it delivered by a messenger that can’t be traced back here. At least then he will have some word from me, and the money the college needs to get supplies this month.”

Jack seemed to view her with fresh suspicion. “I didn’t agree to return the money.”

“You
have
to return it, or I won’t stay,” she said. “With my help you could easily double that amount. You heard me a moment ago—that’s only three or four corpses.”

“Three or four corpses ain’t as easy to come by as you think.”

“We could easily do that much additional business every week,” she insisted.

Although he took a second to think about it, her reasoning seemed to penetrate his greed and resistance. “Would you listen to that?” he said. “The chit wants to join up with us. I say she’d be a good investment.”

“You’re making a mistake, Abby,” Max warned.

Maybe so, but she felt better about staying than confronting her father’s disappointment and displeasure—and then her aunt’s. “If it doesn’t work out—if I’m not as much help as I have promised, I’ll leave,” she told Max. “Fair enough?”

Hoping to avoid another refusal, she added, “Sometimes a woman can see or hear things a man may not.”

She wasn’t talking about locating corpses; she was talking about Madeline, and she hoped he realized it.

Either he was afraid she would say more and give them both away, or he caught her meaning, because he finally relented. “You will stick by my side at all times.” He pointed a finger at Jack. “And if you so much as touch a hair on her head, I won’t be responsible for what I do to you. I swear to God. Understood?”

Jack didn’t take easily to being threatened. Abigail feared Max had once again stirred the other man’s jealousy and ire, feared that they might erupt in violence just as they had at the kitchen table the day before. But Jack managed a slight shrug.

“I won’t touch her,” he snapped and stomped out.

Max regretted giving in almost the second he did it. “Abby, do you realize what you have done?” he asked after he closed the door and turned to confront her. “If I have to protect you, it could compromise everything I have established here so far, make all the risks I have taken pointless. It could also—”

“Be a great benefit,” she broke in, lifting her chin. “For all you know,
I
could end up protecting
you
. At least you will have someone to watch your back, and to get help if you need it.”

Although he appreciated her courage and confidence, he would hate to see her hurt, especially while trying to help
him
. And there was that other matter. He couldn’t let her sleep anywhere besides his bed for fear of what might happen in the night, but he couldn’t trust himself to lie with her, either.

“Jack might insist that we won’t ever get arrested, but we could,” he said. “If we happen to steal the corpse of someone attached to a powerful family or someone with powerful friends, the backlash could be severe.”