Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) (29 page)

“Shut the door behind ye.” A gruff voice came from the left and she stepped toward it, leaving a narrow crack in the door with hope that
Ponsford could hear their conversation.

Simmons stepped out of the shadows, his brown eyes darting between her, the d
oor, and the street behind him.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“A better question is who are ye missing?” he asked with a smirk.

Her heart stopped beating. She was sure of it. “Are my sisters safe?”

“For the moment. For them to stay that way, I need the rock.” He rolled onto the balls of his feet as though very pleased with himself.

“If you
’d tell me which rock—”

“Come now. Ye know exactly what I
’m looking for.”

“No, I don
’t. I’ve been telling you that all along.” Irritation colored her tone.

“The one yer father got in India.”

Her father had traveled to India twice, the second time just months before his death. How had Simmons known that? What was so special about that particular stone? The only thing she remembered about her father’s trip was how happy she’d been when he’d come home.

Simmons scoffed with impatience. “Dark gray with light stripes,
‘bout so big.” He formed his hands in the size of a potato.

T
he description matched the one Stephen had taken. Fear made her heart pound even faster. Now what was she to do? How could she possibly explain to Simmons that she no longer had the stone he wanted? He’d think she was inventing excuses.

Nothing could be done but tell him the
truth and hope he believed her.

She cleared her throat nervously. “I believe I know which one you mean. Unfortunately, I don
’t have it at the moment.”

Simmons stiffened in surprise, his face tightening into a menacing scowl. “What do ye mean?”

“An...associate of mine has it.”

“Who?”

Abigail hesitated for only a moment before answering, “Lord Ashbury.”

Simmons cursed and spun away, muttering before at last turning back to her. “What did ye give it to him fer?”

“He asked to examine it in detail.”

He kic
ked the walkway in frustration.

Now was her chance to convince him to give up on this craziness.
“Please return the girls to us. We can forget this ever happened.”

“No! I need the bloody rock!”

“What is so special about it that it’s worth returning to prison? Are you willing to hang for a rock?”

Simmons glowered as he reached into his jacket and withdrew his knife
, then reached for her arm. “Yer coming with me.”

“Where?” Abigail
’s breath caught as she backed away.

“To get the friggin
’ rock! I’m not letting ye out of my sight until ye get it.” He tugged on her arm.

She balked, torn with indecision. The idea of going anywhere with the man who
’d killed her father caused bile to rise in her throat.

But he had her sisters.

While she had no choice, that didn’t mean she had to do it on his terms. “I’ll ask Lord Ashbury to give it back. Bring the girls and I’ll trade you the rock for their safe return.”

“No! I don
’t trust ye and I certainly don’t trust him. He’s to know nothing ’bout this.”

“I
won’t tell him why I want it back. I—”

Simmons stepped closer, his knife inches from her
face. “He’s already caused more problems than I can count. If ye think I trust either of ye any further than I could spit, ye’ve got another thing comin’. Tell anyone and it means the end for them girls. Now let’s go!”

“All right. Let me get my things and order the carriage.” She
’d have to go with him. Anything to save Sophia and Olivia.

“We
’ll take a hackney.” He pulled her forward.

“Wait! At least let me get my cloak.”

Simmons scowled. “Don’t go farther than the doorway. Stay where I can see ye.”

Abigail nodded and opened the door.
Ponsford and her stepmother stood nearby, eyes wide with fright.

“It
’s too dangerous, Abigail,” Irene whispered. “Don’t go with him.”

“She
’s right, miss,” Ponsford agreed as he wrung his hands. “He can’t be trusted.”

“I have to get Sophia and Olivia
.” Abigail spoke softly, hoping Simmons couldn’t hear her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Hurry up!”
Simmons called from the steps.

Ponsford
glared over her shoulder, his lips tightening. “Do be careful, miss. Here’s your cloak. You have everything else you need in your pocket, I believe.”

He raised a brow
, and at last it dawned on her what he meant. She still had her father’s pistol in her pocket.

“Shall I alert a constable?”
Ponsford murmured.

Abigail shook her head. “No.
I don’t want to take any risks.”

“Come on,” Simmons demanded from just outside.

Abigail gave Irene’s hand one last squeeze to give them both strength. “I’ll be back soon with Olivia and Sophia.”

Irene was too distraught to reply, her
trembling fingers holding Abigail’s a moment longer, her tears wrenching Abigail’s heart.

Simmons grabbed Abigail
’s arm. “Enough already.” He jerked her out into the darkness of the night. “Very touchin’, but we’ve got to hurry.”

Abigail pushed back her fear, praying she
’d truly return soon, and that Sophia and Olivia would be with her.

“The carriage will be here shortly, my lord,” Winston told Stephen as he passed through the hall to the library.

“Thank you. If Weston arrives before I return, please give him an update.”

Stephen planned to visit Abigail and tell her everything. If she’d listen. He should’ve done so weeks ago. From the missing boys to the connection he suspected between them and Simmons—she needed to know all of it. Perhaps she’d learned something from her solicitor that might add to the growing pile of clues.

Somehow, he’d make her believe him despite how ridiculous it all sounded.
Together, they could decide how best to proceed. Together, they could overcome whatever plan Simmons had devised.

Together...

His breath caught at the thought. The time he’d spent without her had shown him just how much he needed her. The image of those blue eyes filled with hurt and tears haunted him. He could only hope she’d forgive him and allow him another chance to show her—

“My lord!”

He turned as Markus burst into the room with Winston directly behind him.

“He
’s got her!” the boy cried out. “Simmons has Miss Bradford and they’re on their way here. To get some rock!”

“What?” His stomach dropped to his knees.
Christ, he was too late.

“He
told her he has her sisters. Miss Sophia and Miss Olivia,” Markus said between pants. He bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

A k
nock sounded at the front door.

Winst
on looked in askance at Stephen who nodded. “Let us see what he has to say.”

Stephen drew closer to the hall,
motioning for Markus to remain hidden. But what he really wanted to do was throw open the front door, grab Simmons by the throat and choke the truth out of him.

“Greetings, Miss Bradford,” Winston said, his usual smile in place as though nothing was wrong.

“May I speak with Lord Ashbury, please?” Abigail’s voice sounded strained even at this distance.

“Good evening, Abigail.
” Stephen stepped toward the door. “How nice to see you.”

“Stephen.” The way she said his name would
’ve been enough to make him realize something was terribly wrong. But her muddy blue aura told it all. Fear was visible not only in the dim light around her head, but in every line of her face and body.

“Come inside
. Please,” he added, willing to beg if necessary.

She shook her head, her gaze shifting to the side, her head held stiffly. “I didn
’t come to pay a social call.”

“Oh?” Subtly, doing his best to make the movement look natural, he stepped into the doorway, glancing around to see if he could spot
Simmons nearby.

The shadows of the night combined with the foggy mist revealed
little. He wanted to pull Abigail into his arms and slam the door behind her to keep her safe. But if Simmons had her sisters, that would not be good enough.

“I
’ve come for the rock you borrowed from my father’s collection.” Her blue eyes caught his, staring intently as though urging him to read her mind.

If only he could.

“Now?” He tried to think of some way to stall, to determine a plan to aid her without alarming Simmons.

“Yes. Right away, if you please.” Her lips
tightened. “We’re—I’m in a terrible hurry.”

“Is everything all right?” H
e needed to remember to act as though he didn’t know what was happening.

“
Of course. I’m merely in need of that particular stone.” Her voice trembled. She looked to her right out of the corner of her eye again.

Simmons was obviously nearby, listening to every word she said. The only way Stephen could think to keep Abigail safe was do as she asked. “
Certainly. Won’t you come in while I retrieve it?” His hand tightened on the knob as the temptation to drag her out of danger surged.

“No, thank you. Please hurry.”

“All right then. It will take me a few moments to fetch it.”

She nodded stiffly. “I
’ll wait here.”

“As you wish.” He pushed the door closed to keep Simmons from
seeing his movements.

He gestured to Winston to follow him into the library where Markus still waited. “Markus,
are you up to another task?”

“
Of course.”

“Go out the
kitchen door. Follow Miss Bradford and Simmons.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Wait!” He thought for a long moment. Damn. He wanted to follow them himself, but Simmons would be watching for him. “I need you to leave a trail for me to follow. I’ve got to know where Simmons takes Miss Bradford as quickly as possible.”

Markus nodded. “Simmons
hired a hackney. Can a few of the servants come with me? We’ll leave one along the way at each turn he makes. With luck, that will show you the way. I’ll stay with them and come back for you.”

“
Excellent idea, but be careful. You can’t be seen. The safety of several people depends on you.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Winston, go with him and explain the situation to the other servants and see who’ll volunteer.”

The pair hurried away, leaving Stephen alone in the library. He
unlocked his desk drawer and stared at the meteorite, weighing his options, painfully aware of every second ticking by. He opened another drawer to reveal his own modest rock collection, including one similar in appearance.

No matter which rock he
gave Abigail, he risked the chance of never seeing her again. There was no guarantee the servants would be able to follow them. Many things could go wrong. If they lost them, Stephen had no idea where to search. The warehouse where Simmons had been remained empty. Nor had he returned to his lodgings. At the moment, no other clues existed as to his whereabouts.

Yet if Stephen didn
’t give Abigail the meteorite, Simmons might realize it, and Abigail would be the one to pay the price.

In truth
, neither option was palatable.

Nor could he stand here and ponder the matter.
He hastily withdrew the stone from his collection as well as the meteorite and returned to the front door.

The sight of her standing there
scared and shivering nearly broke him. “I’m sorry for the delay.”
And for everything else.
“I nearly forgot where I put it.” He handed one of the stones to her and prayed it was the right decision. “I believe this is what you wanted.”

She
froze as she stared at the rock he’d placed in her hand. Those huge eyes looked back up at him, full of doubt and fear.

“Trust me,” h
e whispered.

“But
—”

“Please.”

She stared at him a moment longer, her fear evident. Then she gave him a single nod. “Thank you,” she said in a normal tone.

He looked out at the street behind her, hoping he
’d given Markus and the servants enough time to get into position. “You’re sure you won’t come in?”

“No. I mus
t be on my way.” She backed up.

No, his heart cried.

A shaky breath helped to rein in his emotions. He would not do anything to put her in further danger. The fog-shrouded darkness revealed nothing—not his servants, not Simmons. Somehow, he had to reassure her. “Abigail, I’ve been meaning to call on you. We have much to discuss, you and I.”

She opened her mouth to protest and cast a nervous glance to the side again. He held up his hand. “I realize now is not the time.
I’ll come by to visit very soon.” He hoped she understood he meant it literally.

“Goodbye.” Abigail turned away, giving one last glance over her shoulder at him
before she walked down the steps and disappeared from sight.

Stephen gripped the doorknob, needing to hold on to something
—anything—to keep from running after her. Simmons would be watching. Markus and the servants had a better chance of following them than he would. Logically he knew that, but every fiber of his being wanted to run out that door after her and never let her go.

Now he had only to keep his sanity until one of the
servants returned. Abigail’s rescue was forthcoming but waiting for his plan to fall into place was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.

***

Abigail’s breath hitched as she walked away from Stephen into the deepening mist. She could only pray the odd stone he’d given her wouldn’t cost the lives of her sisters. When he’d whispered ‘trust me’, her heart had filled. In that moment, she’d realized that she trusted him completely. It didn’t matter if he didn’t trust her. She’d hardly given him a reason to.

Time and again, she
’d moved forward without considering the consequences, thinking only of her problem while he’d worked toward solving the larger issue.

In truth,
she’d ended their association to protect her heart. She hadn’t let anyone close except her family since her father’s death. The wall she’d built may have kept her from being hurt but also prevented her from taking a chance at love. Luckily, Stephen had found a way to breach her defenses.

What a fool she
’d been, thinking she needed to be in control. What she needed was love. Stephen’s love. She could only hope in time he’d return her feelings and trust her enough to let her into his life and maybe, someday, into his heart.

For now, she needed to
trust in her love for him and know that he had a plan. That he cared enough to help her.

She slid the rock into her
pocket, hoping Simmons wouldn’t demand to examine it. The idea of not being able to save her sisters terrified her.

“See now? That wasn
’t so difficult, was it?” Simmons’ voice startled her as he emerged from the fog to walk by her side. “Ye even managed to follow my instructions.”

“
I have the rock. Now take me to the girls.” They’d nearly reached the hackney that waited down the street.

“Hand over the stone and I
’ll send yer dear sisters home to ye.”

“
Not until I see Sophia and Olivia for myself.” She clenched her fists, prepared to fight him if necessary. He might be stronger than she, but he couldn’t possibly be as determined.

The driver
of the hackney remained huddled beneath his cloak, his hat low on his forehead. She knew not to expect any assistance from him. He’d already ignored their conversation on the drive here.

“Just give me the rock. I
’ll leave ye here and go free them. They might even arrive home before ye do.” Simmons’ cajoling tone was anything but reassuring.

“Take me to them.
Now
. When I see they’re safe, I’ll give you the rock.”

“Let me see the bloody thing. How do I even know you have it?
Don’t force me to use this knife.” He pulled the blade from his pocket.

She swallowed hard, her stomach in knots.
Left with no choice, she retrieved the rock from her pocket and handed it to him. Would he realize it wasn’t the right one?

He held it up to the dim light
cast by the hackney’s lantern and her nerves stretched taut.

Without waiting for
him to decide if he recognized it, she stepped up into the hackney and sat. She was coming with him whether he approved the rock or not. If necessary, she’d threaten him with her pistol and force him to take her to the girls, but only as a last resort. She knew too well the gun was no guarantee that her plan would go her way.

“If ye would’ve given this to me the first time I asked, we wouldn’t be takin’ this ride,” Simmons grumbl
ed as he climbed in beside her.

She breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

He glanced around as though to see if they were being followed, then ordered the driver to depart, not yet telling him their destination.

Abigail shivered. The dampness in the air seeped into her body. Or perhaps it was fear that made her
tremble. She had to hope that whatever plan Stephen had would be successful for she didn’t believe she could do this on her own.

The hackney made its way
slowly through the foggy streets. The driver ignored Simmons’ calls to hurry. When they finally drew to a halt, Abigail guessed they were somewhere near the docks, though the fog made it difficult to discern. The air smelled briny, and a fog horn sounded in the distance. She studied the unfamiliar buildings, searching for signs of occupation.

“Where are they?” she demanded.

“Pay the driver.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ye ’eard me. Pay the bloody driver.” Simmons jumped down from his seat. “Then I’ll take ye to those sweet sisters of yers.”