Page 106 of Not a Fine Gentleman

Chapter 30

Connor and Grant hailed a hackney and rode to Mayfair. Inside, Connor stared out the window. His usual anticipation of an arrest that sharpened his senses failed to arrive. Instead, a numbness settled over him.

“What’s eating you?” Grant asked.

Connor pressed his lips together. He couldn’t possibly tell Grant that he’d fallen in love with his sister, a lady of quality and consequence, but had no idea what he should do about it. Grant would either laugh or shoot him. Especially if he learned Connor had nearly seduced her.

The more time that passed since that magical time in his rooms with Meg, so loving and willing in his arms, so understanding about his father, so reassuring of her affection, the less optimistic a future with her looked.

How could they smash through all those barriers between them?

Evasively, Connor said, “I’m considering possible ways this arrest might play out.”

Grant snorted. “Fine—don’t tell me. But get your head out of the clouds and into the game. We have an arrest to make, and he’s likely to put up a fight.”

“I know.” Connor cleared his mind as he’d always done before a fight, a tactic he’d learned while serving during the war.

They reached the Finches’ house. All was dark. With Grant at his side, Connor pounded on the door. They waited. He pounded again.

“Open in the name of the law,” he shouted.

A footman opened the door and peeked out. “Yes?”

“We’re constables from Bow Street on urgent business,” Connor said. “We need to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Finch immediately.”

The footman nodded and opened the door. “Come in, sirs.”

They stepped into a room lit only by two candles nearest the door. Prickles rose all over Connor’s skin. Grant stopped up short and fell into a defensive crouch, his eyes glittering.

Blades flashed, and dark figures jumped at them, coming in all directions. Connor fired his single-shot pistol, but there was no time to reload before weapons and raised arms were coming at them in the near darkness. Connor struck out, acting on impulse, ducking, throwing punches, occasionally failing to avoid a blow. Still crouched, Connor launched himself at the nearest assailant, but he’d already charged toward Connor, and they met in the middle. Connor landed the first blow, an uppercut. His opponent staggered back but stayed low and punched him in the gut. Connor doubled over. Black spots danced before his eyes. More came at them from all directions.

Back-to-back, Grant and Connor fought them off until finally, they alone remained standing. The others—six of them—lay groaning. A seventh sprawled dead from Connor’s bullet.

Connor dabbed at a trickle next to his eye and another by his mouth. Only then did he notice the torn sleeve and the sting where a blade had grazed his arm. It could have been so much worse.

While Connor and Grant bound their assailants, one got up and tried to run off. Grant threw the broken leg of a nearby table at him, hitting him in the back of the knees and bringing the man down.

With their attackers trussed up like animals, Connor lit a lamp. He stood in the middle of the room and addressed them in a conversational tone. “Gentlemen, you’ve attacked two men of the law—constables from Bow Street.” Technically, Grant wasn’t, but Connor didn’t bother with semantics. “The penalty is harsh, but I’ll put in a good word for the magistrate who may give you leniency.”

One of them started sputtering. “I didn’t know you was really Runners. We thought you was just sayin’ that to get in.”

“I’m sure the magistrate will take that into consideration—if you cooperate. Where are Mr. and Mrs. Finch?”

“He and my lady have left,” said one.

Grant snorted. “So, you let us in, knowing they weren’t home, because this was a trap.”

Sullen stares came from all sides.

Connor continued his conversational tone. “Where are they, and when do you expect them back?”

“I dunno.”

The one who’d opened the door said, “They aren’t coming back—not for a long time. All the house servants were given pay and told to find work elsewhere. Except me.”

Grant swore. “He knows the law is after him.”

“You aren’t all their servants?” Connor asked.