Page 75 of A Dangerous Lord (Regency Spies & Secrets 3)

“I will, make no mistake of that.”

Corbyn walked downthe cobbled streets as he headed towards the jail. Up ahead, he saw Stewart leaning against the large iron fence in front of the stone prison. The Bow Street Runner was a stocky man, and his clothing did little to hide his muscular physique.

Stewart straightened from the wall when he saw Corbyn approaching. “I see that you got my note.”

“I did,” he replied, “and I must admit that I am pleasantly surprised you caught the man.”

Stewart lifted his brow. “And why is that?”

“Because I generally have a low opinion of Runners.”

“We don’t like being called that, you know.”

“I am well aware.”

Stewart frowned. “I thought you might want to hear what John Hester had to say for himself in regard to the abduction.”

“I appreciate that.”

Stewart huffed. “You will find that not all Bow Street Runners are incompetent.”

“No, some of you set traps for schoolboys who pose no threat to the Crown so you can collect blood money,” Corbyn remarked dryly.

“I am not going to apologize for doing my job.”

“Neither am I.”

Stewart gestured towards a guard, indicating that he should open the gate. “You are making me regret this professional courtesy.”

Corbyn sighed. “You’re right,” he said. “I apologize for antagonizing you, but not for my opinions of Bow Street Runners.”

As they stepped through the gate, Stewart glanced over at him. “May I ask why you hold us in disregard?”

“I have seen you botch one too many jobs for my liking,” he explained as they walked through the muddy courtyard.

“I don’t botch assignments.”

“No, but some of your counterparts do,” he said. “Two years ago, I was working with a Bow Street Runner, and a young girl was killed because of his incompetence.”

“What happened?”

“We were to apprehend a suspect at a pub, but the Runner showed up drunk,” Corbyn revealed. “I decided to go in myself, but the suspect saw me coming and bolted out the back door. The Runner saw him running down the street and pulled out his pistol. Unfortunately, when he fired, he hit a young girl who was walking along the street.”

“That is awful, but not a reflection of all Bow Street Runners.”

A guard held up his hand as they approached, and they came to a stop in front of him. “What prisoner are you here to see?” he asked.

Stewart spoke up. “John Hester.”

“Follow me,” the guard said as he opened the door.

They followed him through a dark, dank hall. The guard stopped in front of a small, cramped cell that had at least ten people sitting in it. “I’m looking for Hester,” he announced.

“I’m Hester,” a man said as he rose from against the back wall.

The guard pointed at them. “These men want to talk to you.”

Hester walked over to the iron bars and rested his hands on them. “Will you get me out of here if I tell you what you want to hear?”

---