“Supervisor at Bow Street, m’lord. Mr. Bagget.”
Tony frowned. “I assume a warrant has been issued— who was the magistrate?”
Smiggins shifted; all color fled his cheeks. “Ah—I don’t know about any warrant, m’lord.”
Gaze fixed on the hapless Runner, Tony let the silence stretch, then quietly asked, “Are you telling me you seized a lady from her own house without a warrant?”
Smiggins looked green. Spine poker stiff, he stared straight ahead. “Information came in latish, about six, m’lord. Sir Phineas Colby—the magistrate on duty—he’d already left. It was thought…well, the information was that the lady was looking to leave the country, so…”
“So someone had the bright idea to send you, along with two ruffians, to take matters into your own hands and forcibly remove the lady from her home?”
Smiggins trembled and said nothing.
Again, Tony let silence work for him, then softly asked, “Who laid the information?”
It was abundantly clear that Smiggins wished himself anywhere but there. He hesitated, but knew he had to answer. “From what I heard, m’lord, the information came anonymous-like.”
“Anonymous?” Tony let his incredulity show. “On the basis of anonymous information, you acted to remove a lady from her home?”
Smiggins shifted. “We didn’t know—”
“You didn’t think!”
The sudden roar made Alicia jump; she stared at Tony. He glanced briefly at her, but immediately turned back to the now quaking Runner. “What exactly did this anonymous information say?”
“That Mrs. Alicia Carrington presently residing in Waverton Street had stabbed Mr. Ruskin to death and was likely to do a flit any minute.”
His gaze on the Runner, Tony shook his head. “We already know that whoever stabbed Ruskin was taller than he was and had to have possessed the strength of a man, not a woman. Ruskin was nearly as tall as me—taller than Mrs. Carrington. She could not have stabbed Ruskin.”
The Runner glanced at Alicia, then quickly looked forward.
Tony continued unrelenting, his tone lethally quiet. “You, Smiggins, and your supervisor have acted completely outside the law—the law you are supposed to uphold.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“In a moment, I will be taking Mrs. Carrington from here and returning her to her home. Henceforth as far as Bow Street are concerned, she is to be considered as being under my legal protection in this matter—is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear, m’lord.”
“And in recompense to Mrs. Carrington for causing her distress, and to me for disrupting my evening, you will undertake, with your supervisor’s full support, to track down the source of your ‘anonymous information.’ You will do nothing else, take part in no other duty, until you have accomplished that and made a full report to me. Do I make myself clear, Smiggins?”
“Yes, m’lord. Very clear.”
“Good.” Tony waited, then quietly said, “You may go. Report to me the instant you learn anything—Torrington House, Upper Brook Street.”
Bowing, Smiggins backed to the door. “Ye
s, m’lord. At once.”
The instant the door shut behind him, Tony reached for Alicia’s hand. “Come. I’ll take you home.”
She rose with alacrity, more than ready to leave; as he led her to the door, she glanced at his face, at the hard, set planes, heard again his tone as he’d dealt with the Runner.
As she walked beside him out of the Watch House, her hand tucked possessively in his arm, she absorbed the other side of him she’d just seen.
It wasn’t until the carriage moved off from the curb and she relaxed against the well-padded seat that the shock and panic hit her. Until then, she’d been thinking of her brothers, of Adriana, worrying about them; until then, she’d taken everything in, but hadn’t spared any real thought for herself.
She shivered and twitched her cloak closer, huddled into its warmth. If he hadn’t come…a chill washed through her veins.