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S amantha held Hazel’s wide-eyed gaze, her muscles frozen in response to that voice. She’d heard it a dozen times before but had not imagined hearing it here.

Kendrick .

Slow steady breaths pushed their way in and out of her lungs. She dared not turn her head, dared not share a meaningful look with her husband. But she could sense him and knew his nerves had just been stretched to their limit by the chief constable’s unexpected arrival.

How he’d found them, she’d no bloody clue.

Adrian’s hands moved, defying Kendrick’s orders as he continued working on Hazel’s wound. Samantha shifted her gaze then, located the scissors and tried to determine whether or not she’d be fast enough to use them on Kendrick before he could move against her.

Probably not.

“I told you to step away from the table and show me your hands,” Kendrick repeated. Samantha’s ears pricked in response to a second pair of footsteps. He’d not come alone.

“You’ll have to wait until I’ve finished tending this wound,” Adrian said, no hint of concern lacing his words even as Hazel cried out in pain.

A second passed before Kendrick said, “I’ll accept that, provided your wife does as I’ve asked.”

Adrian kept his attention on Hazel, on the tweezers he’d pushed deep inside her wound in an effort to locate the lead shot and pull it free. “She needs to hold down Miss Stevens.”

“Whom you’re clearly torturing.”

Kendrick’s critical comment pushed its way under Samantha’s skin. She turned, glaring at him and the young man he’d brought with him. “We’re doing what we can for her with what we’ve got.”

A stony-faced expression that showed no hint of emotion was Kendrick’s only response before he told his companion, “Go fetch my travel bag, Jackson.” When Jackson failed to move, Kendrick said, “It’s fine. They won’t attack me as long as they’re trying to save their friend.”

Samantha raised an eyebrow. Apparently the incompetent chief constable had at least pieced together that much. She would have applauded, were she not busy trying to stop Hazel from moving.

Eyes on Jackson, she watched him back away before turning and leaving the room. Her attention returned to Kendrick, who watched her as though there was every chance of her vanishing through a trap door in the floor.

Hazel whimpered and Samantha swung away from Kendrick, even as she asked him, “How did you find us?”

“Who are the two dead men blocking the front door?” he countered.

She failed to suppress her snort. “Bastards.”

Kendrick stepped closer. She knew Adrian held his breath and when she glanced at his face, she saw that his eyes were closed. Concentration strained his features. He blew out a breath, muttered something while shaking his head.

“I can’t reach it.” He pulled the tweezers from the wound and braced both hands on the edge of the table. Blood stained his skin. He bowed his head, defeat curling around him for the first time since Samantha had met him. “I’m sorry.”

Hazel groaned against the notebook still wedged in her mouth. Tears stained her cheeks and exhaustion left her breaths shallow. Samantha squeezed her eyes shut, attempted to block out all else so she could think.

There had to be a solution.

And so there was. She could take a carriage back to London – deliver Hazel to one of the hospitals there while Adrian travelled on without her. It wasn’t the most desirable plan in the world, but if it meant Hazel survived this and that she would keep her leg, Samantha would do it.

Of course, they’d have to incapacitate Kendrick and Jackson first.

She glanced at the scissors once more. The only weapon she had within reach.

Footsteps approached, distracting Kendrick. Samantha made her move, her hand curling around the scissors without yet knowing how she would use them. She spun to one side, prepared to attack, only to be thrown off balance by Jackson, and the large leather satchel he’d hurled toward her.

It struck her smack in the face and sent her stumbling, the momentum forcing her to drop to one knee. A click sounded before she could rise. No need for her to look up to know Kendrick was ready to blow her head straight off her shoulders.

She gritted her teeth and sipped some air, tried to steady her fluttering heart.

And then Adrian spoke. “If you fire that pistol, I’ll make sure your body is scattered in every cesspit across the country.”

“I did warn her,” Kendrick said as though completely unaffected by Adrian’s threat.

“And I’m warning you, Kendrick.” Adrian’s voice was soft, gentle, more terrifying than if he’d been shouting. “Lower your pistol.”

“Provided she gives me her word that she will stand down.”

“Samantha?” Adrian asked.

She stared up at Kendrick, each heartbeat pulsing through her, and shoved the scissors across the floor for good measure. “You have it.”

Kendrick stared back at her, his gaze trapping hers while she held her breath. Seconds limped by, the tension in the air stretching thin until Kendrick finally did as Adrian asked. Air rushed from her lungs and her shoulders drooped with relief.

Kendrick stepped forward as though intending to help her stand. Instead, he picked up the satchel, his movements measured. “I never travel without a decent medical kit. If you’ll allow me, I can help your friend.”

Samantha pushed herself upright, her gaze finding Adrian’s.

He angled his head. “You know the chief constable better than I do.” No trace of judgement among those words, despite the past they referred to. “You and Miss Stevens ought to decide what to do.”

“Have you experience extracting lead shots from wounds?” Even though she knew any help he offered would likely be better than none, she had to ask.

Kendrick nodded in response and opened the satchel, from which he retrieved a rolled-up bundle crafted from leather. It was tied in place with two cords. He unfastened the cords and unrolled the bundle to showcase a wider array of tools than what Samantha had brought.

“This should do the trick,” Kendrick said, selecting the longest item among his collection. An extractor, specifically designed to pull lead shot from flesh. He gestured toward the table. “May I?”

Samantha took Hazel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I think this has to be done. Provided you’re able to bear the pain a while longer.”

Hazel squeezed her eyes shut as though already dreading what was to come, but finally nodded and turned her head sideways. Samantha moved to allow Kendrick access, her hand still holding Hazel’s.

“I’ll need you to keep a firm grip on her shoulders,” Kendrick told Jackson. To Adrian, he said. “You make sure her legs don’t move. All right?”

The chief constable grabbed the bottle of brandy that stood on the table. He used some to wet his tool, then poured a good measure over the wound without warning. Hazel bucked and whimpered, but the men held her firmly in place. Samantha gritted her teeth as Hazel clutched her hand, nails digging deeply and threatening to break skin.

Without further preamble, Kendrick went to work, moving with what appeared to be great focus and precision as he pushed his tool inside Hazel’s wound, using it to search for the foreign object embedded within.

* * *

The knot in Adrian’s gut eased as soon as he saw the round piece of bloodied lead Kendrick pulled from Miss Stevens’s thigh. Though he’d no idea what she was doing here – what her purpose had been in tracking them down – he knew what she meant to Samantha. Knew what it would have done to her if the wound got infected and…

No need to think on that now.

The foreign matter had been removed, the wound dabbed clean and stitched shut. Hazel’s breaths had evened out as exhaustion took over, easing her into a light slumber. Kendrick wiped his hands on an extra rag Adrian had set aside when he’d prepared for the surgery.

“A poultice will help the healing process,” Kendrick told them. “We’ll see if we can scrounge up the key ingredients for one. But before we do, I’d like to know what happened here.”

Adrian shot a quick look at Samantha before informing Kendrick, “Miss Stevens showed up and an altercation ensued. We did what we deemed necessary.”

“And these men… Were they associates of yours?”

“No.” Adrian didn’t so much as blink before adding. “I’ve never crossed paths with any of them before yesterday.” He provided a brief outline of what had transpired.

“So you are aiming to flee the country.” An observation.

“Will you try to stop me?” A potential problem Adrian had to address. When Kendrick said nothing, he told him, “It’s our belief the men we encountered here were people smugglers. Some of the noises we heard suggested the presence of other individuals.”

“They kept two rooms locked and made sure to guard them at all times,” Samantha said. “I’d like to see what’s inside those rooms now that Hazel has been cared for.”

“Your husband and I can see to that while you stay here with Jackson.” When Samantha looked ready to protest, Kendrick told her, “Keep an eye on your friend. If she wakes, she’ll find comfort in seeing your face.”

Samantha nodded and remained where she was. Kendrick swept a hand toward the door. “Lead the way, Mr. Croft.”

Adrian entered the foyer where Snipes, who remained alive, lay unconscious. From upstairs, came a loud groan, no doubt from Grant. They’d deal with him in a moment, as soon as they’d checked the downstairs room Blade had been guarding.

It was located behind the parlor and had likely been meant as either a dining room or a study. Adrian tried the handle without expecting much. Sure enough, it was locked, which meant that either a key or pure force would be needed.

For the sake of expediency, he opted for the latter and smashed his shoulder against the door. Wood cracked and splintered before giving way beneath his weight, admitting him to the room.

He stumbled slightly before regaining his balance, only to stare at what they’d discovered. “Bloody hell.”

“I’ll second that,” Kendrick muttered, coming to stand beside him.

Adrian swallowed, not daring to check on the little girl who lay on the floor, for fear of what he would find. Thankfully, Kendrick went to inspect her so Adrian didn’t have to.

“She matches the description of Molly Atkins.” Kendrick’s disbelief was underlined by his hesitant movements. He glanced at Adrian. “I was put on her case right before…” He broke eye contact. Returned his attention to the girl. “She’s alive, but her sleep is deeper than what it should be, which makes me fear she may have been drugged.”

Adrian cursed beneath his breath. “I’m going to check the other locked room.”

“I’ll come with you.” Kendrick turned from Miss Atkins. “It’ll be a while before she stirs.”

They headed toward the stairs where shattered bits of glass on the steps explained the crash Adrian heard earlier when Samantha had gone in search of supplies. The shards crunched beneath their feet as they climbed toward the landing where Grant sat, propped against the wall, his bloodied face turned toward them as they approached. Pure hatred filled his gaze, each breath a strained sound wheezing past his throat while he clutched at the nasty wound Samantha had dealt him.

“May you burn in hell,” Grant hissed as Adrian stepped past him. “We invited you in. Trusted you. And this is how you repay us?”

“Let’s not pretend you’re deserving of anything less than what you got,” Adrian said. He held his hand toward Grant. “I want the key to the room behind you.”

Grant snorted in response before looking to Kendrick. “Who are you?”

“A man who doesn’t look kindly on those who would harm children to make a profit.” Kendrick placed one booted foot on Grant’s outstretched leg and stepped down until Grant clenched his teeth. “I suggest you hand over the key so we don’t have to take it.”

A hasty nod had Kendrick stepping back. A bit of fumbling produced the key from a trouser pocket, and then Adrian was opening the door to yet another horrific scene. In a way, this was worse than what they’d discovered downstairs for there wasn’t just one child in this room, but seven. A mixture of boys and girls of different ages, all of them laid out upon the floor, as unconscious as Miss Atkins.

“What kind of hellish intentions did you have in store for these children?” Adrian stared at them, his muscles so rigid he feared he’d finish Grant off if he let himself move. And then, because he needed some sort of release for the fury pressing against his skull, he turned to him and shouted, “Answer me, damn you.”

When not a single child stirred in response to the noise, Kendrick told Grant darkly, “I suggest you do as he says.”

But a stubborn light lit Grant’s eyes. He then grinned – a mocking show of disdain that infuriated Adrian further. One swift stride brought him back to Grant’s side. Grabbing a fistful of the man’s hair, he shoved his head backward until the tendons in Grant’s neck strained, his throat bobbing as he tried to swallow.

“I already know you planned to sell them,” Adrian muttered. “That much is clear. What I wish to know are the details of the transaction, starting with the identity of the buyer.” When Grant still refused to comply, Adrian drew the blade he kept in his boot. “Stay silent and I’ll start removing your fingers.”

Grant’s eyes widened just enough to reveal genuine fear. He swallowed again and Adrian released his hold on Grant’s hair so he could take hold of his wrist.

“Croft.” Both a question and a warning from Kendrick.

Ignoring him, Adrian tightened his grip on Grant’s wrist while Grant began writhing against him. The blade made contact with Grant’s little finger and Grant whimpered. “Please… It was an Ottoman slaver who promised good coin.”

“How much?”

“Tw…twenty pounds per child. An extra ten for those with blue eyes. Ten more for those with blonde or red hair. An extra fifty if they fit all those criteria and they were female.”

The information tested Adrian’s restraint. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to plunge his dagger into Grant’s belly and watch him bleed out. But he refrained. There were more questions to ask. More answers to be had.

“What did you use to drug the children?”

“Laudanum.”

“How much.” This from Kendrick whose voice had hardened.

“One teaspoon each. Perhaps a bit more for the older children.”

Adrian hissed a breath and glanced toward the room full of children. Two to three teaspoons could easily kill a full-grown adult. “I ought to gut you for what you’ve done.”

“’Twas Wilkes’s orders. To keep them under control.”

A red haze descended over Adrian’s eyes. His hands began shaking, yet he managed to find the presence of mind to ask Kendrick. “Check to make sure they’re all breathing.”

The chief constable stepped into the room, and Adrian let his blade slice the skin on Grant’s finger open. Grant whimpered and Adrian let the blade sink just a little bit deeper. “Who orchestrated all of this?”

“Wi…Wilkes did.”

Unlikely. Adrian doubted a man who appeared to have nothing but strength in his favor would have managed to make this kind of arrangement. “Who put him in contact with the slaver?”

Grant shook his head, color draining from his skin. “I don’t know. I swear it.”

“And I swear I’ll take every finger you’ve got until I have my answer.” The blade slid deeper, until it met with bone.

A pungent smell filled the air, proof Grant had pissed himself.

“This boy’s not breathing,” Kendrick shouted, the information cutting through Adrian’s heart as fiercely as his blade cut through Grant’s finger.

The man screamed as blood flowed from the severed digit, bringing Kendrick back into the hallway. “What the—”

“Can we save him?” Adrian bared his teeth and set his blade to another of Grant’s fingers. “Can we save the boy, Kendrick?”

“No, I... Don’t believe so.”

A child. An innocent life lost because of this man and his three accomplices. Hell was too good for the likes of these bastards, but he didn’t have enough time for what Grant deserved. “Name your employer and I swear to you that you’ll keep the rest of your fingers.”

Grant stared back at him, the look in his eyes suggesting his mind was whirring – seeking solutions that didn’t exist. Adrian tightened his hold on his index finger, the action forcing a name from between Grant’s lips.

“Hillford.”

Adrian stared into Grant’s desperate gaze while trying to take control of his shock. He knew the gentleman well, had interacted with him on numerous occasions. Both at his club and at social events. Hillford had always struck him as polite and reserved – the sort of man who strove to avoid confrontation.

“Are you certain?” Adrian asked. It seemed more likely for Grant to be lying than for Hillford to be involved in this sort of operation.

“Wil…kes mentioned him.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

Grant nodded, tears spilling onto his roughened cheeks. “I swear it.”

All Adrian felt for him in that moment was utter revulsion. Not an ounce of the pity that might have saved Grant’s life. So he didn’t so much as blink when he pulled back his blade before thrusting it deep, past Grant’s ribs and straight into his frigid heart.

“Devil take you, Croft.” Kendrick spoke harshly, yet Adrian would have sworn his voice held a hint of understanding.

“I’m already charged with murder,” Adrian murmured, retrieving his dagger and wiping the blade on Grant’s jacket. “Might as well use that to my advantage since I can only hang once.”

Another curse from Kendrick before he said, “One would think they’d have taken more care not to harm the source of their income.”

Adrian prepared to go and check on the children himself. “Are you sure there’s no chance of saving the boy?”

“He was cold to the touch.”

Adrian’s heart shook in response to the loss those words evoked. He entered the room slowly, anger pouring through him as he considered all the young faces. The boy who would not rise again was one Adrian recognized from a visit with Wycliff. Slightly older than the others, he’d probably received a larger dosage of laudanum as a result. An absolute travesty that could not be undone.

“Will you help me bury him?” Adrian shifted his gaze to Kendrick.

“Of course.”

They arranged for Jackson to come and watch over the children upstairs while Samantha kept an eye on Miss Atkins, then went in search of a spade.

“What’s your plan?” Adrian asked of Kendrick when it was the chief constable’s turn to dig. “Drag me back to the gallows?”

Kendrick worked in silence for a few moments before saying, “That’s no longer my place.” A quick glance toward Adrian. “I was sacked for insubordination.”

“You?” It was so unexpected, Adrian actually laughed, earning a disgruntled look from Kendrick. He considered the young Runner whom he’d encountered before. “And Jackson?”

Kendrick returned to his digging. “This is his case now. Whether or not he decides to arrest you will be up to him.”

Adrian angled his head at that – at the chance of Kendrick and Jackson possibly letting him go. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because I’m inclined to convince him otherwise.” Another quick glance at Adrian. “I’ve spoken with Benjamin Lawrence’s servants. His butler’s statement was especially helpful. And then there’s the coachman who drove Mr. Lawrence to Miss Fontaine’s lodgings. You can thank Jackson for tracking him down.” Kendrick paused his work and leaned on the spade. “Together, these men can undermine everything Lawrence wanted the world to believe about him. Especially if we’re also able to find Lady Eleanor’s eyes. As I’m now sure we shall, provided a proper search of Mr. Lawrence’s home is conducted.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I killed him.” Allowing the spark of hope he experienced to flourish would be dangerous.

“No, but it confirms Lawrence’s guilt.” Kendrick stepped out of the hole and held the spade toward Adrian.

“It’s not my turn yet,” Adrian argued.

Kendrick snorted. “I’m almost twice your age, besides which I’d say you owe me.”