"Mmm. Well, there's drowning."
"Difficult to arrange."
"Bow and arrow?"
"My aim is very poor."
Thom stopped in front of her. "What about poison?"
"I wouldn't know what to give him. Oh, this is ridiculous," Plum said, getting to her feet to pace with Thom. "We are two intelligent, well-educated women. You would think we would be able to think of something so simple as the way to kill a man."
"You're the one with literary skills," Thom pointed out. "What would you do if you were writing this in a book?"
"Arrange for a convenient accident to eliminate him from the plot," Plum snapped, then sat down and burst into tears. It was useless! As hard as she tried to justify to herself the act of killing Charles, she just couldn't condone the taking of his life. And now because she was so weak, Charles would tell everyone who she was, and Harry would leave her, and she would ruin the children's lives, and Thom's, and her poor babe's, and life would be horrible, and she would end up in the ditch with the earthworm, and why oh why didn't Charles drown when everyone said he did?
"I'm so sorry, Aunt Plum. Is there anything I can do?"
"No. It's hopeless. No one can help me now." Despite her gloomy words, Plum gave herself a mental shake. She had to think her way out of this horrible situation. She would not allow Charles to ruin more lives. If she couldn't kill him, what would stop him from blackmailing her? A threat? Bribery? Or what about a scandal so horrible the threat of it being made public guaranteed his silence?
Thom wrung her hands and paced nervously, periodically stopping to pat Plum on the shoulder, murmuring little things about it being all right, but Plum was oblivious to it all as she turned over several ideas of manufactured scandals that might do the job of silencing Charles on the subject of her own past. "I think, perhaps, that is my only option," she said softly, renewed determination flaring within her. "Yes, it is. But I will need help with the plan ... someone to carry out my instructions. Someone unsavory who won't mind getting his hands dirty, so to speak."
"Help? Instructions?" Thom's air of distressed quickly dissipated. "With your plan for Charles, you mean?"
"Yes," Plum answered, distracted by the sudden fertile fields of imagination that opened before her as she contemplated the many options of coercing Charles into holding his tongue. She was more than a little bit relieved that she wouldn't have to use threats, or try to find the money to bribe him. Her way was much simpler. She would pay someone to create a potential scandal so hideous in its nature, Charles would be forced to give up his blackmail in order to stop her from enacting the plan.
"I know just the man to help you!" Thom clutched Plum's hands in hers, pulling her to her feet. "He will do anything you desire. He's bright, and intelligent, and if you tell him what you want done, he'll do it!"
"What? Who?" Plum asked, wondering if a brainstorm could strike someone as young as Thom.
"Nick!"
"Who? Oh, your burglar?"
"Yes, him!" Thom hugged herself and spun around again. "Nick is very unsavory, in a savory polite sort of way. He wouldn't mind doing anything you asked of him, even ... er ... you know."
Plum blinked at her niece in confusion.
"What you mentioned," Thom said in an undertone. "You know, the unsavory things."
"Ah." She was referring to the scandal. Plum thought on that for a moment. Thom's burglar might just fit the role of scandalmonger very well. A man in his line of business certainly couldn't object to helping her with her righteous cause. "It has merit. I wouldn't have to effect the act myself, which I will admit has been causing me some worry. Very well, I will speak with this burglar of yours, but I make no promises! It behooves me to keep all avenues open. I will continue to investigate possible men I can employ until I know whether or not your burglar can do the job, or find someone to do it for me. Thank you, Thom! You might just have saved all our lives."
Harry, returning home from a quick meeting with a couple of handpicked Bow Street Runners, was surprised to learn that there was a person of obviously low repute awaiting him in his study. He was even more surprised when that unsavory person turned out to be his godson.
"Nick! What the devil are you doing soaked to the skin, and in such repulsive clothes?" Objectionable garments notwithstanding, Harry hugged his godson, noting to himself that Nick-who had always resembled his father-was now the spitting image of Noble. They shared the same black hair, gray eyes, and big frame. "You've grown since I last saw you," he added. "You've got one or two inches on me now."
Nick didn't respond to the banter, although he did give Harry a bone-crushing hug. "Papa said you'd hung up your spy hat years ago. You're not doing another job, are you?"
Harry, mildly surprised by the serious look in Nick's eyes, shook his head and waved toward one of two calf-skin chairs. Although he hadn't seen Nick for a few years, it wasn't hard to see that the young man had done a bit of growing up since last they'd met. He did a bit of arithmetic and was surprised to find that Nick was now twenty-three years of age. Had it really been so long? "No, not really. I'm doing a bit of looking into something that happened years ago, but not a job, not a real job. Why do you ask?"
"Someone tried to kill your children this afternoon."
Harry shot up out of the chair and was halfway to the door before Nick's voice stopped him. "They're all right, Harry. Thom was there, as was I. No one was hurt. I escorted them home, just to be sure another attempt wasn't made." Nick frowned and pulled at his lower lip. "I'm fairly certain it was an attempt on their lives, but I suppose it could have been just an accident...."
The word accident resonated in Harry's mind. Plum had been concerned about the numbers of accidents the children were having of late ... but that was foolish. They had been random accidents caused by the children's heedless determination to do whatever fool thought entered their collective heads.
Or were they?
"Tell me what happened," Harry said slowly as he returned to his chair, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. "Tell me everything that happened."
Nick narrated a story that sounded all too familiar-the children sending mice out to sail their wooden boats-but cold chills shivered down his neck at the retelling of the near miss with the runaway carriage.
"You're sure the horses were under control once the carriage was in the street beyond the alley?"
Nick nodded. "The coachman must have been feigning a swoon. He clearly looked over his shoulder at the alley, and when he saw me, whipped the horses up even harder and tore down the street. I asked Thom on the way home whether it was usual for them to take that alleyway to your house. She said you'd only been in town for three days, but that they'd taken it each day as they returned from the park. No, it couldn't have been unintentional." Nick lifted worried eyes to Harry's. "Who'd want to harm your children, Harry?"
"Someone who has a very long memory," Harry said softly, thinking of the letter Briceland had shown him. He was cold with fury, a fury so deep he had the unreasonable urge to strike out at something, anything, in response to the threat against his children. He had always accepted the danger to his own person as part and parcel of the jobs he had chosen to undertake, but the thought that his family could be made to suffer for his actions ... he closed his eyes for a moment, his hands fisted to keep from tearing the room apart.
"I'll help you all I can," Nick said, aware of the struggle Harry was having to keep his temper leashed. "You can count on me and my men."
Harry opened his eyes, unaware that they were dark with anger. "Forgive me, I hadn't thought to ask, and I didn't have time to talk at any length with Noble. How is your work progressing?"
Nick shrugged. "As well as can be expected. There's another reform policy up for discussion in the House that I'm sure you've heard about. Yet another feeble attempt to do away with prostitution without addressing the real issues of poverty and class structure. We do what we can to help the women who sincerely want a b
etter life, but it's like throwing pebbles in the ocean."
Harry managed to find a smile. It was a grim smile, to be true, but still it was a smile, and he hung onto it for all he was worth. "Still trying to save the world, are you? First it was foundlings and child labor laws, then war veterans, and now you've taken on Gillian's pet project?"
Nick grinned. "She can be persuasive when she puts her mind to it." He gestured toward his damp, rumpled, filthy clothing. "The last few weeks I've been in the stews trying to locate the madame behind a particularly nasty string of brothels. Four prostitutes have been killed in the last two months. Gillian's worried sick about it, so I've been interviewing the girls to see what they know. It's difficult going, but I think I might have a lead at last. I'm more than happy to set that aside, though, if I or my group can be of any help to you."
Harry's grim smile grew a little less grim. "Thank you. I may take you up on that, but there are a few things I can do myself to see to my family's safety."
Nick's grin broadened. "Speaking of your family, I approve of your choice of nieces. Thom's got her wits about her, and has a cool head in an emergency, even if she does have the deplorable taste to befriend a burglar."
Harry cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Nick's shady garments, thinking to himself how very interesting life had become of late ... a thought that was stripped of all amusement when an image came to mind of charging horses running down his children.
The two men chatted a bit longer, then Nick left to go about his business. Harry called the male house staff in and gave them strict instructions regarding the admittance of anyone unknown to the house. He pulled Juan aside, and gave him further orders that neither the children nor Plum was to leave unescorted.
"I will not allow the Lady Plump to be so much accosted," Juan replied with a fiery look in his eye. "There was a man today in the grande garden who put his big English face into my very most lady's and made such comments that she had to strike him a blow to the cheeks, but he will not do so again. I have made sure of that."
"A man accosted Plum?" Harry asked, startled into immobility. "When? Where? Who? Is she all right?"
Juan tossed his head as he cracked his knuckles. "It was today, while the lady and the young miss and the diablitos were in the grande garden. I don't know who the man was, but Plump, she has the fire in her heart. She struck him on the face, and I told him to begone, and he left. Then we went to a very boring shop with only books and old ladies and no one who paid us any attention, and then we came home."
Harry was mildly relieved to know that Plum wasn't upset enough by the incident to cease her regular calls, but he felt the time was ripe to have a discussion with her. "If you see the man who accosted her again, tell me immediately."
"I will be happy to rip out his heart and spit on it if he should offend my most passionate lady."
"I'm sure you will," Harry said dryly, "but I think a word to me first would be best. Mind you attend to what I've told you."
Juan swore eternal fealty. Harry left him for Plum's sitting room feeling moderately better, but still worried. He made a mental note to set a few of his runners onto the task of watching the children when they were out. He found Plum sitting before her escritoire, brushing her lips with the tip of a quill as she hesitated over a letter. Love roared to life in him at the sight of her. Should one of the children be harmed, he would be devastated, but if anything happened to Plum, he would be destroyed.
He paused for a moment, watching her as she smiled and rose to greet him, wondering how it had happened that he had fallen so completely in love with his wife that his very vitals were gripped with pain at the thought of losing her.
"Harry! You're back earlier than I thought. I'm so pleased you're home. I was going to send for you, but I didn't now where you'd gone. You're not going to believe what happened-the children are fine, all of them, no one is hurt in the least, but they almost suffered a most grievous accident."
Plum told him what had happened to the children, viewing it as a neatly avoided accident rather than anything with more sinister overtones. He hesitated about telling her what had happened, nearly overwhelmed with the desire to protect her and keep his family from harm, but he admitted to himself that Plum was a smart woman, and the more she knew, the better she could guard against any danger.
He took her hands and led her over to the blue-and-green settee. "In the future, I will leave word as to my exact destinations, so you will always know where to find me if you should have need of me. As for the accident with the horses, I've heard about it. Plum, do you remember a few weeks back when you were commenting on how odd it was that the children were experiencing so many accidents?"
Plum's gaze dropped to her hands. "Yes. Harry, I know I haven't been the ideal stepmother to them-"
"I don't think they were accidents," he interrupted, dismissing her notion that she wasn't a good stepmother. No one could have more patience or tolerance for the five hellions he'd spawned-five dear hellions for whom he would fight to the death. "I have reason to believe that someone is deliberately trying to hurt them."
"Hurt them?" Her face went pale as she clutched his hands tightly. "Who would want to hurt the children?"
"I don't know for certain yet, but I'm going to find the proof I need in the next day or two. It has something to do with a situation in my past, a job I did." He gave her a brief resume of his past work with the Home Office, along with reassurances that he had long left his spy days behind.
"Someone is trying to hurt the children," Plum repeated, for a few seconds obviously not believing what he said. She stood up, her hands fisted tightly, her cheeks bright with anger. "I will destroy him."
Harry was a bit startled by the vehemence in her voice, but warmed by it as well. Only Plum could love them all so well. She truly was one woman in a million. "That won't be necessary, sweetheart. I've taken steps to see to it that you'll all be protected, but I wanted to warn you so you'll be aware of what's going on, and won't try to get rid of the footmen or Juan when they accompany you. I'll send a man down to Ashleigh Court to look into the accidents there, but I don't hold out hope that he'll find much."
"Ashleigh Court?" Plum blinked and looked at him curiously. "But... those accidents were weeks ago."
"Yes," Harry said, his jaw tight at the thought of someone stalking his children, someone invading their home to do them harm. "As I said, the person doing this has an old grudge against me. I have men looking into possible sources of information here in town, as well."
"Oh," Plum said, sitting down, looking oddly relieved. "Then it couldn't be-you must find the man who is doing this, Harry. He must be stopped."
Harry was about to ask Plum to whom she had been referring when she gave him an odd look and bit her lower lip. Immediately his mind was drawn to that lush, sweet lip, how it tasted, how he wanted to nibble on it, and in return, the many things he would enjoy it doing to his body. It was with an effort he wrenched his mind off her moist little cherry lip and focused on what she said.
"If you were a spy, there must have been occasions where you had to ... kill someone."
She wanted to know about the men he'd killed? Harry wondered for a moment if there was a hidden side to Plum he hadn't seen, then relaxed. Surely she was just concerned that he had the experience to protect them from whoever sought to do the children harm. "Yes, I have, regrettably. I don't like to take a life, Plum, and I've always tried to avoid it whenever I could, but I would not, and will not, ever allow anyone innocent to suffer at the hands of the guilty."
Plum glanced toward her escritoire. "Was it an extreme measure? That is, did you try to resolve the situation by less fatal means first? Did you try to reason with the people first? Bribe them? Or perhaps, give them a taste of their own medicine? Did you try those things first, Harry, before you were forced to kill?"
Harry smiled a reassuring smile. Dear, sweet innocent Plum. He hesitated to have such a gruesome discussion with his delicate wife, b
ut perhaps it would be for the best. She would no doubt understand just what lengths he was prepared to go to in order to see to the children's and her protection. He spent the next half hour detailing the more outstanding of circumstances, allowing her to question him closely about the methods he employed to avoid having to kill his enemies, as well as general information about the surrounding events. If the situation facing him weren't so heinous, he might almost have found her avid interest amusing, but in the end, he rose, gave her what was meant to be a reassuring kiss, but turned into a fiery plundering wherein he tasted the sweet depths of her mouth, then took his leave of her more than a little pleased with the gentle, loving woman he had wed.
Chapter Fourteen
"My very most Lady Plump! You must come quickly!"
"What is it, Juan?" Plum asked absently, brushing the end of the quill against her chin as she thought. Would it be better to have Charles found naked in the monkey cage at the Zoological Gardens, or in flagrante delecto with another man?
Juan threw himself to his knees before her. Plum paid little mind to such a show of histrionics. Juan was always throwing himself to his knees over something. Usually it was of no consequence. "It is a most terrible occurrence! It is the even very catastrophic!"
Plum sipped the cold tea that had been sitting at her side while she labored the last two hours, a slight frown between her brows. "Is anything on fire?"
"No, it is not the fire-"
"Is anyone bleeding?" The monkey cage had a certain appeal to it, but sadly, the other would involve the shame of another man. She hated to make anyone but Charles suffer. Perhaps if he was shot while trying to escape after the theft of an object from the newly opened British Museum?
"That I am not knowing. You must come now, it is of the most terrible event-"
What of a harlot? Would that be enough to shame Charles? She shook her head even as the idea formed. The Charles of old certainly had no qualms about making it known to other gentlemen that he used the services of harlots. Then again, if it was a harlot like no other, that might do the trick. Plum wrote a note to investigate whether there were any procurers of sheep for gentlemen of unnatural tastes. "Has any property, real or otherwise, been destroyed?"