"No, Molly. Thank you." Picking up the coins, Austin handed them to her. He then reached into his pocket and withdrew several gold coins that he gave her as well.
Molly's eyes widened to saucers. She shot a stunned, questioning glance at Austin. "All this?" she asked. "Just fer a bit o' talkin'?"
Austin nodded once. Tucking the coins into her bodice, Molly moved quickly away, as if fearing he'd ask for them back.
"How much money did you give her?" Elizabeth asked. "Enough to feed her."
"For how long?"
He hesitated for an instant, as if uncomfortable to say, then he shrugged. "For at least six months. Have you felt anything yet?"
"No. It's often difficult in a crowd. Too many sensations hit me all at once, resulting in a muddle. I need to close my eyes and relax."
"Very well. You do that and I'll look about to see if I recognize anyone."
She nodded and closed her eyes. Austin took careful note of every patron, but none looked familiar to him.
After several moments Elizabeth opened her eyes. "I'm sorry, Austin, but I cannot discern anything that could help us."
"Then let's go," he said standing. "There are other places to investigate."
They left the pub without incident and entered the waiting hack. Austin gave an address to the driver and settled himself across from Elizabeth. In the dim light, with her masculine clothing, she could indeed pass for a young man, a notion he found oddly disturbing as he knew she was all woman.
"I'm sorry I was not able to sense anything in the pub," she said. "Perhaps we shall have more success in the next place. Where are we going now?"
"A gaming hell. According to my information, Gaspard was recently sighted there."
"I see." She hesitated, and he noticed that she was twisting her fingers together. "I'd like to thank you for your generous gesture toward Molly."
His conscience pricked him, urging him to tell her that he wouldn't have glanced at that whore if not for her, but before he could speak, she reached out and laid her hand on his sleeve.
"You're an extraordinary man, Austin. A remarkable and wonderful man."
His throat tightened. Bloody hell, there she went again, all but turning him into porridge with a single touch. A gentle word. A warm glance. She melted him like snow tossed into a fire.
And instead of being appalled by the admission, instead of wanting to flee or push her away, he ached to take her into his arms. Hold her. Love her. Try to somehow explain these unsettling feelings she evoked in him.
Taking her hand he pressed a heated almost desperate kiss to her gloved palm. "Elizabeth. I-"
The hack jerked to a halt, cutting off his words. Peering out the window, he saw that they'd arrived at their destination. Helping Elizabeth from the hack, he led her into a narrow alleyway between two seedy, crumbling brick buildings. They made their way down a set of steps littered with trash and entered the gaming hell.
The room was noisy, dimly lit, and dingy. Men from many different walks of life sat at the tables playing cards and throwing dice. Rough-talking sailors, a group of London dandies out on an adventure, members of the demimonde; anyone with money to gamble was admitted.
Again requesting that she keep her hat pulled low and eyes downcast, Austin led her slowly around the circumference of the room. She paused near the end of the scarred wooden bar.
Blocking her from the room with his back, he whispered "What is it?"
She frowned and shook her head. Without a word she peeled off her dark gloves and slipped them into her pocket. She then placed her hands on the bar. Her eyes slid closed.
Austin watched her closely, keeping her hidden from the rest of the room. Her breathing deepened and just when he didn't think he could stand her silence another moment, she opened her eyes.
"Gaspard has been here," she said.
His stomach clenched. "When?"
Her eyes grew troubled. "Tonight, Austin. He was here tonight."
Chapter 17
Squeezing her eyes shut, Elizabeth held on to the bar, trying to assimilate the barrage of images flashing through her mind. The man Austin sought had been in this very place, and only several hours earlier. She was sure of it.
A clear picture blinked in her mind. "He's carrying a pistol." Her knees went weak. "He's used it to kill. More than once."
He gripped her hand and immediately more images materialized behind her closed eyes, flashing like lightning bolts. Her heart thumped painfully and the base of her neck throbbed as the disjointed impressions slowly took form. A clear vision swam through her brain and perspiration broke out on her brow. Light-headedness invaded her system, rendering her weak.
"Elizabeth, what's wrong?"
Austin's urgent whisper seemed to come from very far away. She struggled to open her eyes, but the images bombarding her sapped her strength. She was vaguely aware of a commotion, of being lifted up and carried, but she was too weak to protest. Blackness engulfed her and she slipped into oblivion.
Austin had never been so frightened in his life. Damn it, she was unconscious. Her face was pale as wax, her skin damp, her breathing labored. Ignoring the curious glances from several gambling patrons, he picked her up and strode from the building. Once outside, he barked out his direction to the hackney with orders to get them home posthaste. He closed the hack door behind them and tenderly laid her across his lap.
"Elizabeth," he said urgently, his body tense with fear. "Speak to me. Darling, please, say something."
He patted her cheeks and alarm raced through him at the clammy texture of her skin. The frightening atmosphere and noxious fumes must have gotten to her, but damn it, why didn't she wake up now that they were outside? He never should have brought her here. If anything happened to her-
Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked directly into his eyes. Relief hit him like a punch to the head. Laying his palm against her pale cheek, he tried to smile at her, but his facial muscles wouldn't cooperate. Bloody hell, he felt as weak as a newborn babe.
She attempted to sit up, but he kept her in place with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Relax," he managed to say.
Her eyes panned around. "Where are we?"
"In the hack, on our way home."
A frown furrowed her brow. "Home? But why?"
"I'm afraid you succumbed to the vapors."
"Vapors? Nonsense." She again tried to sit up and he again restrained her.
"Vapors," he repeated running his fingertips over her pale cheek, unable to keep from touching her. "For a robust girl, you went down like a tenpin."
She shook her head. "No, it wasn't the vapors. I had a vision. I saw it, Austin. I saw the entire thing. William. The Frenchman Gaspard."
That horrific night, that haunting scene that was forever burned in his mind bombarded him, attacking his defenses from all sides. She grasped his hand squeezing it, and her eyes widened.
Before he could utter a word she whispered "Dear God you were there. You saw them together, loading crates of weapons onto a ship." He tried to rein in his thoughts, but there was no stopping them. Gripping his hand tighter, she said "William saw you in the shadows. He went to you and you argued bitterly. You tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. Then you watched your brother sail away… with an enemy to your country."
Pain whipped through him, lashing him with guilt. "He was handing over weapons," he whispered barely aware he was speaking. "He saw me and left the ship. He pulled me into an alleyway, away from Gaspard's eyes. I asked him how he could do this, but he refused to answer me. Told me to mind my own business and leave. We quarreled. I threatened to turn him in… I told him he was no longer my brother."