Page 111 of The Scot Who Loved Me
Cecelia’s gaze locked with hers. “Will did the right thing. He got you out of there.”
“But, the Night Watch... they’re sure to take him back to Marshalsea.”
“And you wanted to... what? Molder in chains with him? As if they’d put you two together.” Cecelia huffed impatiently. “What is the first thing we learned when we came to the City?” She paused, then answered her own question. “That it’s easier to bribe one person out of prison, than two. I, for one, am glad they took Will and not you.”
“Oh... don’t say that.”
“This is hardly over, dear.” Cecelia stepped back and called out, “Jenny?”
Jenny, the maid-cum-servant walked in, rag curls still in her hair. “Yes, miss?”
“Two morning chocolates. Extra silky smooth please.”
“I’ve already started it, miss.”
“Excellent.” Cecelia took Anne’s hand and pulled her into a salon cozier and far prettier than anything Anne could envision.
“Now, sit here and tell me everything.”
Anne sank into a green damask chair and put her feet on the stool that matched it. Cecelia curled up on a floral print settee and wrapped a large shawl around her shoulders. They sat quietly for a time. Anne needed it. She covered her eyes, the strain seeping out of her.
“You anticipated this. The countess attacking so soon. You should’ve taken charge of our league.”
“Me? In charge of the league. You have courage in spades. You run into a knife fight while I...” Cecelia waved a manicured hand. “I get wonky at the sight of blood. And yes, we both knew the countess would strike. So soon? I hoped it’d come after dawn when you and Will were onThe Grosvenor, but that didn’t happen. Shall we stop useless recriminations and figure out how to get you and Will and the gold safely out of London?”
“I don’t care about the gold.” Her hand dropped to her lap and a fresh wave of misery swamped her. She searched the wall, looking at but not seeing the birds and flowers printed on it. “I don’tcare about duty and responsibility or having a mission. I want Will.”
Arms crossed, she was quite mulish. Cecelia pulled the shawl tighter and listened.
“He sacrificed himself for me... for the gold... when he never wanted anything to do with it in the first place.”
Jenny entered with a tray of two dishes of chocolate. Anne took one dish, its heat nursing her.
“I should go to the magistrate and let him know Will is innocent.”
“You cannot. For all my complaints of Mr. Fielding, he is fair. But Southwark is another story. You willnotfind justice in Southwark. The countess will dig her claws in Marshalsea, if she hears you’re there. Will did the right thing in sparing you.” Cecelia sipped her chocolate. “Did anyone see you?”
“Only Mr. Baines. A few wharfmen. The smoke was still thick in the warehouse and the fire was at the small north door.”
“That’s good.” Cecelia sipped more chocolate. “Let’s think this through.”
Birds chirped their morning song outside Cecelia’s window. One could almost feel hopeful from the sound. Until Cecelia set her cup on a satinwood table with a decisiveclunk.
“I have a wonderful idea, but we must find a dead body first.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Torchlight flickered over a beast of a man sitting on the ground dressed in black velvet. His braw arms were manacled to the wall of Marshalsea Prison’s strong room, the shed as it was known to many a troublesome criminal. Midnight was the hardest hour. Light danced on the walls, dipping and swaying over scratches left by men driven to madness.
Anne stepped into the shed’s close confines, scarcely believing how her life had changed since her last visit here. Will’s eyes were molten gold but clearer this time, tender and lively. His whole person stirred to attention, the chains jingling as if his limbs leaped for joy at the sight of the woman cloaked in gray.
She lowered her hood, her gaze meeting his.
The beast smiled. “Well, well, Mrs. Neville, back again, I see.”
“You know I couldn’t stay away.”
Will’s chest expanded. “You shouldna be here. It’s no’... safe.”
