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and women he passed on the narrow street. He kept running until he turned down an alley with a low brick wall. He effortlessly jumped over it, but the Runner hadn’t been able to do so with the same ease, giving him a slight advantage.

Removing his ragged jacket, Baldwin handed it to a man who was begging on the street, then kept running until he was sure the Runner wasn’t following him anymore.

The sun was starting to set as he headed towards his room on Draper Street. When he opened his door, he was surprised to see Morton standing there, his eyes sparking with fury.

“Morton,” Baldwin acknowledged as he closed the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Where have you been?” Morton shouted.

Baldwin huffed as he went and dropped down onto his mattress. “I have been racing through the rookeries to make sure I lost the Runner who was following me.”

“How do I know it wasn’t you that ratted me out to the Bow Street Runners?” Morton accused, crossing his arms over his chest.

“For what purpose?” Baldwin asked defiantly.

Morton’s eyes narrowed. “You could have brokered a deal with the Bow Street Runners to ensure your freedom.”

“We both know that Bow Street Runners are not to be trusted, and I can assure you that I would never intentionally seek them out,” Baldwin assured him. “Furthermore, it would have been foolhardy to tip them off before I got paid for abducting the girl.”

“What about your cousin?” Morton asked. “Could he have tipped off the Bow Street Runners?”

Baldwin shook his head. “That is impossible.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It is simple,” Baldwin replied. “I never told him that I intended to abduct a girl in the first place.”

Some of the anger in Morton’s expression dissipated at his words. “I do apologize for being suspicious but there is so much at stake here.”

“I understand.”

“I must assume that Oliver is with some woman,” Morton commented as he looked at Oliver’s empty mattress.

Baldwin shrugged. “Where else would he be?”

Morton walked over and sat down on the mattress. “Thank you for what you did back at the pub.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“If you hadn’t seen those Runners, then we both would have ended up in jail. You saved me.”

“I suppose that is true,” Baldwin agreed as he leaned his back against the wall.

Running a hand through his tousled hair, Morton sighed. “That was a close call. Too close.”

Baldwin chuckled. “You get used to those,” he said. “It’s what keeps you alert for the next time.”

“We were so close to a payday,” Morton declared, clenching his fists. “Why did the Runners have to raid the pub when they did?”

“Someone must have tipped them off.”

“Perhaps, or they just got lucky.”

Baldwin scoffed. “You are giving Runners entirely too much credit.”

“Who do you think could have tipped them off, then?”

“It could have been someone who worked at the pub,” Baldwin suggested with a shrug.

Morton’s expression grew hard. “I won’t rest until I discover who betrayed me,” he growled, “and then I will kill them.”

“Smart plan,” Baldwin said. “Make sure their death is especially painful.”

“That is a given.” Morton paused. “At least I can safely rule you out.”

“I appreciate that. Besides, I know my fate if I ever get caught.” Baldwin reached under his pillow and pulled out a stale piece of bread. “Are you hungry?” he asked, holding it up.

Morton stuck up his nose at the offering. “That is what you are eating for dinner?” he asked in disbelief.

“It looks worse than it tastes.”

“I can only imagine,” Morton muttered.

Baldwin took a bite of the foul-tasting bread and slowly chewed it. “Where do we go from here?”

“We may have lost the opportunity to make some quick money by selling those girls, but we still have collected a large amount from the other rebels,” Morton shared. “We will continue to implement our plans for the assassinations.”

“Before I go along with this plan, I want to meet Marie,” Baldwin insisted.

Morton rose awkwardly from his seat. “I can arrange that,” he said. “We need to meet regardless to go over the specifics.”

“This mission won’t cause me to end up dead, will it?” Baldwin asked.

Morton shook his head. “If all goes well, you will be on a ship bound for America by the time England recovers from the shock of losing their Prime Minister, Home Secretary, and their beloved crook.”

“What about the other conspirators?”

“You need not concern yourself with them.”

“Why not?”

Morton walked over to the door. “It matters not,” he remarked. “Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”

Baldwin studied Morton. “What is it that you are not telling me?”

“Get a good night’s sleep and I will be in touch,” Morton said dismissively as he opened the door.

After Morton closed the door, Baldwin tossed the bread down and wiped the crumbs off his hands. He would wait for a moment before traveling to Hawthorne House for the rest of the evening. He needed a good soak and a proper meal.

Chapter Twelve

The following morning, Baldwin walked purposefully along the pavement as he covered the short distance to Miss Dowding’s townhouse. He found that he needed to reassure himself that she was safe after the staged abduction, even though Oliver had assured him that she was. But for some inexplicable reason that didn’t ease his mind. He wanted to see Miss Dowding for himself.

Unexpectedly, Corbyn appeared by his side, matching his stride. “I received your missive last night.”

Baldwin glanced over at him in surprise. “Where did you come from?”

Corbyn tsked. “I had correctly assumed you would be on your way to visit Miss Dowding this morning, so I just waited for the chance to speak to you.”

“Why would you have assumed that?”

“Call it a hunch,” Corbyn remarked.

Baldwin tipped his head politely at a gentleman passing him on the street before saying, “I can’t help but think that Morton believes me to be expendable.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He keeps promising to give me a new life in the Americas, but I believe that to

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