Livy knew the week had taken a toll on Ben, stirring up the demons from his past. His voice echoed in her head: It reminded me of who I used to be, and I am ashamed of that man. He is not good enough for you. She prayed that his undertaking would be over soon so that they could have a fresh start. She wanted to take care of him and lavish him with love.
She also needed to tell him the truth and beg his forgiveness for her deception.
“Did you tell Hadleigh your concerns when you visited?” Livy asked.
A frown marred Bea’s brow. “I asked him what was going on, but he would not talk to me. To be honest, I am not surprised. He and I have been dancing around each other these years past, and we Wodehouses have never been good at discussing our feelings. Nor showing them, in truth.” She reached into her reticule, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing her eyes. “For a long time, I believed that my brother was a destructive force, and I cut him out of my life. Then I met Mr. Murray, and he convinced me that Hadleigh had changed and was deserving of another chance.
“I allowed Hadleigh back into my life, but I always kept my distance. I was afraid to be hurt again,” Bea said, her voice hitching. “In spite of the bad blood between us, he is my kin, and I…I do care about him.”
Livy’s heart hurt for Aunt Bea…and for Ben, too. She vowed that, once the business with Fong was over, she would do whatever she could to help them mend fences.
As her mama oft said, “Where there is love, there is a way.”
“He loves you too, Aunt Bea,” Livy said. “And while he might not seem himself of late, I am certain there is a good reason. You can trust him not to repeat the mistakes of his past.”
“Even if I trusted him, I cannot trust the band of rakehells who have drawn him back into their fold.” Bea’s lips formed a hyphen of disapproval. “Edgecombe, Thorne, and Bollinger were a bad influence years ago; from what I gather, they are even worse now. My brother’s loyalty has always been his greatest strength and weakness. If it hadn’t been for Arabella’s influence…” She shook her head. “I will not speak ill of the dead. But I will say that in recent months, I have seen Hadleigh show the promise of the man he could be. If those scoundrels compromise his progress, draw him into their depraved world again, I vow I will give them a piece of my mind.”
With gnawing unease, Livy observed the determined angle of Aunt Bea’s chin. It took one to know one, which was how she knew Bea was as strong-willed as they came. And the last thing Ben needed right now was for his sister to get involved.
“You won’t interfere, will you?” Livy said desperately. “I do not think that is what Ben needs right now.”
Aunt Bea’s eyebrows shot up. “Ben?”
Botheration again.
“Hadleigh, I mean.” Livy’s face flamed. “Since he is, after all, a grown man, I think it is best to trust his judgement.”
A pause. “Is there something you are not telling me, Livy?”
That Ben is infiltrating a drug enterprise? That I’m protecting him while participating in a secret investigative agency? That you and I may soon be related?
Livy shook her head lamely.
“Well, I hope you are right about trusting Hadleigh.” Aunt Bea heaved out a breath, her eyes worried. “Because my brother has a history of being his own worst enemy.”
34
After Aunt Bea’s departure, Livy acted on her instincts and scribbled a brief note to Ben. Knowing discretion was paramount, she kept the message as brief and free of particulars as possible.
Your sister paid me a visit. She is concerned and may try to help, even though I tried to dissuade her. I thought you should know.
Instead of signing her name, Livy drew a little crown. She hoped that Ben would receive it before he headed off for a planned night of revelry at Bollinger’s.
Shortly after Livy sent the note, a mudlark arrived. The girl, who didn’t look a day over thirteen, introduced herself as “Fair Molly.” She had a dirt-smudged cap crammed over her profusion of curly hair, and her amber eyes sparkled with intelligence as she relayed the message from the leader of her group.
“We found the scene in the picture. The Prince o’ Larks says I’m to take you lot there personally.” Her little chest puffed up with pride. “Since I’m the leader o’ the team wot found the spot.”
“We are much obliged to you, Fair Molly,” Charlie said.
The sun was dipping into the horizon by the time they arrived in Limehouse. Here the squat brick buildings were crammed jowl to jowl, homes and businesses piled atop one another on the narrow streets. The dockside community was home to residents from all over the world, and they passed groups of Chinese, Lascar, and Spanish sailors talking in their native tongues.
They arrived on a street on the banks of the Thames. Fair Molly pointed out the carriage window at a building; even though Longmere had painted it from the opposite side of the river, Livy recognized the structure, as well as the open field next to it. From the front, the small, shuttered edifice looked like it might have been a shop at some point, with a living area on the second floor.
“A job well done,” Charlie said warmly. “Thank you, Fair Molly.”
Fair Molly shrugged. “It were the old ropemaking field next to it wot pinpointed the location. Otherwise, it’d be like finding a
