Seducing the Ruthless Rogue (9 page)

“I demand you find each and everyone of them and bring them to us.”

“We will do our very best, gentlemen,” one of the Runners attempted to placate the men.

“You see that you do.
 
We will expect a report tomorrow,” one of the men said, leaving the Runners staring dumfounded at one other.
 

Another member of Parliament turned and caught sight of Cassie, hovering in the background.
 
“She was loitering amongst them!” he exclaimed pointing towards her.
 

Quickly realizing she was the one they were pointing out, she turned, and sprinted away from the group.
 
She turned a corner and felt herself brought up short.

Chapter 5

Mack had just drifted off to sleep when a pounding sounded at the door, waking him.
 
He barely opened one eyelid to bring the time on his pocket watch into focus.
 
When darkness greeted him, he growled in frustration and shut the watch without ever seeing the time.
 
It was dark and that was enough for him.

He pulled on his robe and then took the gun from the drawer of his night stand that stood next to his bed.
 
His hair stood up from where he had run his hand through it.
 
More pounding sounded.
 
He left his room and stomped down the stairs to the front door.
 
“I’m bloody well coming,” he muttered, cocking the pistol as he made his way downstairs.

“Sir…” John stated from the depths of the house.

“Go back to bed, John.”
 
After undoing the lock and sliding back the bolt, he jerked the door open and pointed the pistol at the person standing on the other side of the door.
 
A fist paused mid-air when it encountered the gun.
 
“I suggest you stop before I shoot your hand off your bloody arm,” he growled, his brogue thick.
 
He still pointed the gun at the shorter man.

“I want to know what you did with Missy Cassie,” a little Oriental man demanded, undeterred.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
 
Now go home and let me sleep.”

“No,” the man wedged his foot between the door and the frame.
 
“You tell me where Missy Cassie is.
 
Why you have gun?
 
You shoot her?”

“Who the bloody hell are you talking about, man?”

“Missy Cassie.”

“Are you talking about Miss Graham?”

“Yes.
 
What you do with her?”

“Bloody hell, man, do you have any idea what time it is?” Mack demanded as he pointed the pistol at the floor and gently released the hammer.
 
“I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“You lie.
 
You not like Missy Cassie.
 
You do something to her!”

“Now, listen here, Mr…”

“Chang.”

“Now, listen here, Mr. Chang, I’m not going to put up with someone coming to my house, accusing me of crimes, and calling me a liar.
 
As far as I am concerned, trouble follows your ‘Missy Cassie’.
 
So, pardon me, but I am going to go back to sleep now.
 
Goodnight, Mr. Chang.”
 
Mack shut the door in the older man’s face then slammed the bolt home.

***

Cassie spent the last hours pacing the watchhouse, but as the night passed, the room became more crowded.
 
How had things gone so horribly wrong?
she thought.
 
She watched the other people that the Runners brought into what began as her domain.
 
People were brought in who were much worse off than she, despite her surroundings.
 
Some of the people looked and smelled as if they had not bathed in years.
 
Others looked as if they had not eaten in days.

When a woman, looking to be halfway through a pregnancy, and a small child were pushed into the small confines, Cassie’s heart twisted.
 
She stood, allowing the woman to take her seat.
 
The child collapsed at her feet, cuddling her mother’s legs.
 

“Thank you, ma’am,” the woman said weakly.
 
“Come here, Jemma,” she said, bending over as far as she could and holding her arms out to the child.

When the child could not stand on her own, Cassie bent down and swooped the girl in her arms.
 
“Jemma, that’s such a pretty name.”
 
The girl smiled sickly at her.
 
“Here you go,” Cassie gently lowered her onto her mother’s lap.
 
One of the men stood, and nodded for Cassie to take his seat.
 
She nodded her thanks before sitting next to the woman and child.
 
“Here,” she held out her hand to the little girl, a scone she had pilfered on her way out of the house this morning lay in the middle of her palm.
 

The girl looked hopefully at her mother.
 
The woman nodded her head, and the girl tentatively took the proffered delicacy.
 
Jemma tore the scone in half and held out half to her mother.

“No, you eat it, Poppet,” her mother encouraged.

“Here, take this one for your mother,” Cassie said, producing a second scone.

“‘Ere now, you got any more of those for the rest of us?” a man called out.

Cassie turn and glared at the man, silencing him from saying anything else.
 
“Go ahead, Jemma, take this one for your mother.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” the woman said, tears running down her cheeks as she took her first bite of the scone.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

“A day, maybe two,” the woman shrugged.

“Surely that can’t be good for a woman in your condition,” Cassie said softly.
 
Her heart twisted painfully as she watched the woman sob softly.
 
She took the woman in her arms and let her cry out her fears and worries.
 
“There, there,” she murmured soothingly.
 
Cassie pulled out an embroidered handkerchief and passed it to the woman.
 
“Jemma’s fallen asleep,” she told the mother softly.

“Thank goodness,” the woman said.
 
“She has slept so little lately.
 
She has the most terrible nightmares since her father died.”

“Would you like to talk about it, Mrs…”

“Thompson.
 
My name is Abigail, but everyone calls me Abby.”

“And I am Cassie.”

“Andrew and I married three years ago.
 
Jemma was born on our first anniversary,” she said cuddling the sleeping girl that appeared younger and wiser than her two years.
 
“Andrew was a soldier, and we followed the drum, going everywhere he went when we could.
 
It was not easy, but we were together more often than what we would have been if Jemma and I had stayed in England.”
 
The woman paused, a half-smile on her face as she reminisced.

“And then what happened?”

“There were so many battles, and he always came back to me, until the last one.
 
They buried him on the battlefield.
 
I didn’t get to say goodbye.
 
Captain Wallace, Andrew’s commander, saw that I received Andrew’s last pay as well as a little extra to get us home.
 
Jemma and I took the next packet back to England.
 
When we arrived back on English soil, I went to Andrew’s parents house, only to find it occupied by another family.
 
His father had died from a lung ailment, and his mother passed away a few months after.
 
Not that they had the means to help us, mind you.
 
Jemma and I found a small room to rent, and not long after I realized I would be having another child.”
 

The women sat in silence for a long time as more people were forced into the watchhouse.
 

“What about your parents?” Cassie asked quietly.

“They did not approve of Andrew.
 
My parents are members of the
ton
and I was to marry someone more appropriate to our station, but I fell in love with a soldier.
 
I tried to see them when I came back, but they refused to see me.
 
I was caught attempting to pick a man’s pocket so that I could feed Jemma.
 
That is why we were brought here. I don’t know what I am going to do now,” Abby leaned her head against the wall behind her as tears streamed down her face.
 
“They will take Jemma from me in the morning and place her in an orphanage and put me in a workhouse or worse.
 
I’ll likely never see my baby again.”

Cassie wrapped her arm around the other woman and Abby laid her head on Cassie’s shoulder.
 
Soon the woman drifted off to sleep, as well.
 
A grizzled looking man sitting along the wall across from them looked at the two women.

“That happens more often than y’know,” he said gruffly.

“What is that?”

“That young woman’s situation.
 
Mine, too,” he nodded towards a leg that was represented by a piece of wood and a crutch.
 
“Government only wants you until you can’t do nothin’ for
 
‘em anymore.”
 
Several people in the room echoed his sentiments.

Cassie worried her lower lip as she wondered what she could do to help these people, but most especially Abby and Jemma.

***

Mack opened the door to leave his house.
 
He wasn’t sure where he was heading, he just knew he needed to escape the confines of his house for a while, and he was not allowed to go to the office.
 
After closing the door, he began walking down the street and spied Mr. Chang walking towards him.
 
He groaned aloud.
 
What did the man want now?

“Good morning, Mr. Chang.”

“Missy Cassie need help.”

“Pardon?”

“I wrong about you.
 
Letter come this morning.”

Mack took the piece of paper that the man held out to him.
 
He noted that one side had a ragged edge as if ripped from a book.
 
The markings on the paper were written in pencil and looked more like scratches than handwriting.
 
It took him several minutes to decipher the almost unreadable handwriting.

Chang:

In trouble.
 
I am at the watchhouse near the Parliament building.
 

Cassie

“What is she doing in a bloody watchhouse?”

“Not know.
 
Not know what this ‘watchhouse’ is,” he said.
 
“She not came home last night.
 
Not like Missy Cassie.
 
I worry.”

“Go home, Mr. Chang.
 
I will take care of this.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. McKenzie,” the little man bowed repeatedly, hands clasped together.
 

“Don’t thank me yet, Mr. Chang.
 
I have yet to rescue the damsel in distress.
 
I will bring her home as soon as I can,” he said.
 
He watched the little man turn and shuffle off down the street.
 
“If I can,” Mack added under his breath.
 
He turned and hailed a passing hackney, gave the jarvey directions, and then climbed inside.
 
What had she done to end up in a watchhouse?
 
That was where people were held between the time they were arrested and until they could be properly placed in a prison to await sentencing.

He should have turned Sir Graham over to his daughter months ago and been done with her.
 
Then she would not be in his life, and he would not be traveling across town on some wild goose chase.
 
Several times he started to instruct the driver to turn around, or go somewhere else, anywhere else.
 
Each time he looked at the note in his hand and saw the worried look in the old, weathered face of the man who came to see him.
 
The hack rolled to a stop in front of the office of the Bow Street Runners.
 
Mack exited the hack, paid the driver, then let himself in the office.

“Director McKenzie,” one of the men said, “what brings you here?”

“I am interested in one of the people you arrested last night.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.
 
Miss Cassie Graham.”
 
The other man groaned.
 
“I take it you have knowledge of her?”

“That woman has been a pain to us all morning long.”

“That sounds like Miss Graham.
 
Where is she?” he asked, looking around.

“Not here.
 
She’s still at the watchhouse, refuses to leave in fact.
 
She’s started quite a little riot if I may say so.”