The five men on the ground had grown restive as she’d spoken. When she finished, the man in the center exchanged glances with his mates, then looked up at her, nodded. “We’ll spread the word. Not many of us hold with working for furriners.”
“Good.”
“Do any of you know Gallagher?” Tony asked. “Enough to get word to him?”
All five looked wary, but after a moment, the leader allowed, “I could perhaps get word through.”
“Tell him Torrington sends his regards, and Dearne-Grantham-is part of this caper, too, just not in London. Pass on all the lady told you. Gallagher will understand.”
The men’s attitude had undergone a significant shift, from adversaries almost to allies. The leader nodded more definitely. “I’ll do that.”
He started to rise, then halted, looked at Del.
Del nodded. “Go. And if you’ve got any English blood in you, spread the word.”
With nods, the men clambered to their feet, paused, then bobbed awkward bows to Deliah before lumbering off south toward the nearby slums.
“Well,” Gervase said, “that wasn’t quite a total loss.” He looked at Deliah, and his gaze hardened. “Although, in future, it might help if you would consent to leave the fighting to us. An umbrella is hardly an effective weapon.”
Slowly Deliah raised her brows, then she extended the um brella she still held in one hand, regarded it with approval. “This, I will have you know, is the very latest patented design. It has a steel shaft, a steel frame and mechanism, and, most importantly, it has a steel point.” Raising the umbrella, she displayed the steel spike at its tip. “In terms of an unexpected weapon, one a lady might carry, it’s ideal-and if you had questioned the man with the red spotted bandana just now, he would have told you that getting jabbed with a steel spike made him think twice about getting closer.”
“Yes, but,” Tony interceded, “the point is that you’re a lady, and we’re here, three gentlemen, and having you-”
“Getting in the way?”
“I wasn’t going to say that. Having you embroiled in the action,” Tony carefully continued, “is seriously distracting.”
“For you,” Deliah countered. “But for me, what would be totally unacceptable would be for me to meekly cower behind you like some helpless ninny, when in fact, as I just proved, I can perfectly effectively contribute.” Her eyes darkened. “I will remind you, gentlemen, that I’m a part of this enterprise whether I wish it or not. That being so, if you think I’m the sort of female to hide behind your coattails and leave all the fighting to you, you will need to think again.”
Nose elevating, she swung around-casting a sidelong glance at Del.
He bit his lip and kept his mouth firmly shut. The others would have done better to save their breaths.
Deliah humphed, then looked up at the sky, now a dark slate-gray. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”
Head high, she led the way, umbrella swinging defiantly.
Disgruntled, disapproving, but with no option for relief, with Gervase and Tony bringing up the rear, Del fell in alongside her.
December 14
Grillon’s Hotel
Deliah reached her bedroom in a less than chipper mood.
Stripping off her gloves, then struggling out of her pelisse, she muttered, “They could at least have recognized my contribution. Acknowledged the wisdom of my idea to tell the men about the Black Cobra, and hopefully put an end to the supply of local hirelings. But no. They had to harp about me not wilting like a proper gentlewoman.”
She was disgusted with them all. Although, to his credit, Del had kept silent.
Not that he’d disagreed. She knew perfectly well he’d felt the same as the other two.
She humphed. Draping the pelisse over a chair, she carried her gloves to the bureau. Pulling open the top drawer, she went to drop the gloves in. Paused.
Her handkerchiefs were jumbled. She frowned, then opened the next drawer down. Her shawls were rumpled.
A quick survey of the dressing table and the armoire convinced her.
She looked up as the door opened.
Bess came in, packages in her hands. “There you are.”
“As you see. Has anyone unexpected called?”
“No. Why?”
Deliah cast another glance around. “I can’t be absolutely certain, but I think someone has searched through my things.”
“What?” Bess bristled. “The only other of our party who’s been up to the suite since you left is Sangay, the colonel’s boy. He came looking for the colonel’s gloves. But I was out for most of the afternoon, shopping for those things you wanted.” She raised the packages.
Deliah grimaced. “I don’t think anything’s missing.” She looked at the dressing table. “My silver-backed brushes are still there, and all my jewelry, so it couldn’t have been a thief.”
She sighed. “Never mind.” She focused on the packages. “Let’s see what you found.”
Seven
December 14
Grillon’s Hotel
Feeling sartorially better equipped to face the days to come, Deliah joined the three men for dinner in the suite’s sitting room. Tony and Gervase had just joined Del; they all exchanged nods, then took their seats so Cobby and Janay could serve the first course, a delicate chicken broth with small dumplings.
They were silent while they supped. Tension rippled between them-a certain frostiness on Deliah’s part, countered by Del’s studiously arrogant refusal to notice. Tony and Gervase, meanwhile, were exercised over the mission, as was Del; glancing at their faces, Deliah read their mounting frustration.
When they set down their spoons, Gervase spoke. “We haven’t seen anyone who isn’t English.”
Tony humphed. “We haven’t even sighted the man hiring.”
“Larkins, from all descriptions,” Del said.
“Ferrar’s man?” When Del nodded, Tony went on, “I wonder if we’d gain anything by watching Ferrar.”
“We’d have to find him first,” Gervase pointed out.
“I had Cobby ask if he’s been seen at White’s.” Del grimaced. “They said no, and the address they had for him was from years ago-a lodging house in Jermyn Street. He isn’t there, and the landlord hasn’t heard from him.”
Gervase shrugged. “If he’s using Larkins, then watching Ferrar won’t help us. And linking Larkins to the hirelings won’t materially advance our cause.” He nodded at Deliah. “Given you can identify Larkins as the man who shot at Del in Southampton, we can nobble Larkins any time we choose, but unless we can link Larkins and his lethal activities to Ferrar’s letter, we have nothing to implicate Ferrar.”
“Unless we can prove Larkins is acting under Ferrar’s direct orders, then Ferrar will simply deny any knowledge of Larkins’s doings, no matter what Larkins says,” Tony stated.
“Indeed. And it’s Ferrar we want.” Leaning back in his chair, Del looked at Gervase, then Tony. “I have to question whether there’s any point in us remaining in town.”
Cobby and Janay arrived with the next course. They waited while the pair efficiently cleared the table, served them from platters of meats and a tureen of vegetables, then, with everything in order, retreated.
Deliah decided to state the obvious. “London has a large supply of ruffians Larkins can hire to do his master’s bidding. Even if those we caught today warn their fellows, it’s likely Larkins will be able to find enough men to keep us busy here for at least a few more days.”
Del nodded. “And by dallying here, accomplishing nothing beyond running down the stocks of local louts, we give Ferrar time to build up his forces by bringing in more cultists-fighters he’ll deploy only when he needs to.”