Ben leaned over to whisper in Livy’s ear. “Be honest, love. How do your fighting abilities compare to your riddle-solving skills?”
She gave him a demure look. “They’re better.”
He’d figured.
Grinning, he said to the group, “I say that sounds like a plan.”
38
Dusk was falling as Livy and her group arrived at the Hungerford Stairs. The steps led from a wharf on the Thames up to a large market that spanned three sections all the way to the Strand. The market was constructed in an elegant Italianate design; from the colonnaded galleries, one could purchase all manner of foodstuffs, from fish to produce to freshly butchered meats.
At this hour, the market and wharf were at a lull, the quiet period between the closing of the shops and the arrival of the next day’s goods. As Livy patrolled the shore with Ben, the two of them dressed as a working-class couple, she observed nothing out of the ordinary. The wharf was dotted with empty crates and barrels, and boats were departing for the day. A pair of mudlarks scavenged along the water in search of overlooked treasures. At a sagging blacking factory to the right of the pier, weary-faced workers were filing out, their empty lunch pails clanking.
Waves lapped against the shore. Seabirds cried, mourning the setting sun.
To Livy, it felt like the quiet before the storm.
“No sign of Bollinger or our villain,” she said under her breath.
“Patience, little one.” Ben lit a lamp, his gaze on the short pier that reached out into the Thames. “It has only turned dark. If this is the place for the exchange, we will see them soon. There is no way we will miss them…not with the Angels on the watch.”
She glanced at the top of the stairs where Glory and Fi, posed as flower girls at a lamplit barrow, stood at the ready. Glory gave a discreet thumbs-up, the signal that all was clear.
Livy tilted her head at Ben. “You seem to be taking this remarkably well.”
“Taking what?”
“The fact that I’m involved in danger and intrigue.”
“As the proverb goes, better to bend than break.” His eyes turned serious. “At any rate, I’ve realized that your obedience was never what I truly wanted. What I desire is your love, the kind that never fails or falters. Everything else is immaterial.”
“You have my heart,” she vowed. “Forever and longer.”
His gaze smoldered. “I look forward to a lifetime of adventures with you, little queen. Especially in bed.” His wickedness heated her cheeks. “That is the one place where I think you do not mind being biddable, hmm?”
She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I do not mind at all…sir.”
“Christ, you little minx.” His voice was edged with laughter and arousal. “Do not tempt me when we have a mission to accomplish.”
A fog came in, swirling over the dark water as they continued their surveillance. Their diligence was rewarded an hour later when a carriage pulled up near the top of the stairs, close to Glory and Fi’s barrow. A cloaked figure emerged, accompanied by a manservant bearing a lamp.
“Bollinger,” Livy whispered.
Dousing his lamp, Ben pulled her behind a stack of crates at the edge of the wharf. “Let’s keep out of sight until we see what he’s up to.”
Bollinger and his servant descended the steps at a rapid clip. They went to the end of the pier, scanning the water. Through the heavy veil of mist, Livy glimpsed the viscount pacing. A few minutes later, a gleaming mermaid cut through the fog. The figurehead was followed by the rest of the boat, a sleek vessel that came to a stop in front of Bollinger. Two men vaulted from the deck and moored the boat. They tipped their caps at Bollinger as he boarded, his footman behind him. The pair disappeared into the boat’s cabin.
Twisting her head, Livy saw Fiona and Glory heading down the steps. They’d detached their skirts, moving with unhindered stealth in the trousers they’d worn beneath. Unhooking her own skirts and silently thanking Mrs. Q for her innovative designs, Livy was ready to join her friends.
“Time to go in,” she said.
Ben leaned in and kissed her hard. “Let us finish this once and for all.”
They met with the other Angels, the fog giving them cover. Glory and Fiona went in first, taking the brutes on the dock by surprise. One of the men got off a shout of warning before Glory downed him with a swift kick to the gut. Footsteps and voices rumbled from the ship, two more brutes emerging.
Livy took on one of them, Ben the other. She dodged a punch, going in low and landing one of her own in her foe’s midsection. He straightened and flashed a rotted smile.
“That all you got?” he taunted. “You ’it like a girl.”
Glory sailed through the air, her foot planting in his chest, sending him sprawling.
“We certainly do,” Glory spat, then turned to Livy. “Fi and I will manage things here. You and Hadleigh go capture the villain.”
Livy saw that Ben had felled his opponent, and the two of them vaulted onto the boat. They saw Bollinger on the deck: he was gripping a large valise, as was his manservant behind him. They were blocking the way to the cabin.
“H-Hadleigh?” Bollinger’s features froze with shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Putting an end to the Devil’s Bliss,” Ben said flatly. “The drug has led to the death of multiple men, and you could be next if you don’t leave those bags and get off the boat.”
Bollinger’s throat bobbed. “Surely you don’t mean to cross Master Fong,” he said hoarsely. “I just saw him, and he’ll kill us all—”
“Get out of our way,” Livy snapped. “Or we will make you.”
To show him she
