Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) by Dorothy Elbury, Gail Ranstrom

accommodating nature. God knows he could use a bit of that.
    Clouds had gathered, obscuring the moon and bringing a chill. This was a night made for chicanery and it was early yet in Whitefriars. Anyone who made an honest living was home abed, and the others…well, the others never slept. As he arrived at the Crown and Bear, the place was alive with noise and laughter. Somewhere down an alley, voices raised in a quarrel carried to him as he left his horse in the stable yard behind the tavern and tossed another coin to Cox, the toothless and bald man who tended the stock.
    A few faces turned to look when he entered, then went back to their tankards. A quick scan of the room told him that Farrell wasn’t there. He crossed to the bar and waited while Mick Haddon, the barkeeper, poured a measure of his favorite rye whiskey and brought it to him. Haddon was a good man fallen on hard times, and a cut above the usual trade in the Crown and Bear.
    “Farrell in back?” he asked.
    “Home. Rarely see him these days,” Haddon answered.
    Jamie raised his glass. “To domestic bliss,” he said before he swallowed the contents.
    Mick snorted in reply. “Anything I can do for you?”
    “What has Farrell told you?”
    “To keep an eye out for Henley, and an ear to the ground.”
    “And?”
    “Nothing, though this is the sort of place Henley would come if he were in a drinking mood. And had he not already crossed Farrell.”
    Silently, Jamie agreed. Henley wouldn’t go to his club orto any reputable tavern or gambling hell. He’d frequent only the dregs of London. Places where he’d be unlikely to run into any of his old friends or new enemies. But someone, somewhere, knew where he was and was helping him. Sooner or later, Jamie would find him. He was a very patient man.
    “Any unusual activity? Rumors?” he asked.
    “Just the usual sort,” Haddon said as he poured another measure for Jamie. “A woman turned up dead in an alley not far from here last night. The charleys were asking around, but it seems she and her husband had a row, and you can guess the rest. I believe the husband has been taken away.”
    “Domestic bliss,” Jamie repeated as he finished his drink.
    Haddon laughed this time and nodded.
    Jamie left his glass on the bar and returned to the stable yard. Old Cox handed him the reins and ducked his head, as if avoiding Jamie’s eyes. His horse danced sideways, skittish about something. Rather than mount, he led his horse out of the yard to the cobblestones, an uneasy feeling raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Something wasn’t right.
    He bent down to slip the dagger from his boot just as the report of a gunshot sounded close at hand. Brick and mortar scattered in a wide pattern behind him and his horse reared, frightened by the noise. He released the reins, knowing the well-trained animal would not bolt. He rolled to the side, coming up on his feet again near a doorway, his dagger in hand.
    Suddenly the price on his head was not quite so amusing. He’d left his pocket pistol at home, not anticipating that he’d be visiting the rookeries tonight. The sound of running footsteps down an adjacent alley told him that the assassin had taken his best shot and was now making his escape.
    He was in full pursuit down the alley, gaining on the culprit, when it occurred to him that this had all gone off toosmoothly. He knew these streets well enough to know the assassin was leading him toward a blind alley. An ambush? But who would be waiting for him? Henley? The Gibbons brothers? He was alone. Should he take the chance?
    “Oh! I nearly swooned when I saw him waltz you out the terrace door!”
    Gina gave Hortense a bland smile. “Nothing happened. He was merely inquiring as to my mother’s health.”
    “Was he, indeed?” Harriett teased. “And why should your mother’s health be a concern of his?”
    Gina laughed. “My mother’s health is everyone’s concern. She makes it so at every