“Merely a vessel,” Jensen argued.
“Your uncle is very good at what he does,” Lindberg said. “No one can deny that. Regardless of whether you believe the warnings, were they proved true, the damage the Raven would surely cause with the box would be catastrophic. We need to stop him.”
“Precisely,” Jensen said. He steepled his long fingers beneath his chin. “We cannot risk his unleashing Pandora’s curses. It is far too dangerous.”
Fielding didn’t believe a word of it. He’d heard of the myth, but that was all it was. Still, these men were quite serious in their concerns. But then the legend hunters of Solomon’s were generally a serious sort.
If there was the slightest chance the box was dangerous, though, they were right: Allowing it to fall into the hands of the Raven would reap dire consequences.
“Where is it?” Fielding asked.
“We believe it to be in Portsmouth, in the ruins of a castle,” Lindberg said.
“It was most recently a monastery,” Mr. Nichols added.
“More importantly, that’s where the Raven believes it to be,” Jensen added. He slid a large stack of papers toward Fielding. “This is all the research we’ve gathered on the subject.”
Fielding thumbed through the pages. They’d had the Raven followed, and the pages detailed his uncle’s research as well as Mr. Nichols’s. Fielding came upon a list with five unfamiliar names on it. “Who are these people?”
“Other scholars on the subject,” Mr. Nichols said. “Why is ‘Mr. Spencer’ marked through and replaced with the name Worthington?” Fielding asked.
“Spencer was a fictitious name used for protection,” Mr. Nichols said.
“Worthington is the only one on that list who lives here in London,” Jensen said. “Though we do not know precisely where.”
“She guards her privacy well,” Mr. Nichols said.
“Worthington is a she?” Fielding asked.
“Oh, yes, and a brilliant scholar in her own right. That much I know.”
“You would, of course, have access to all our resources,” Lindberg said. He pointed to the papers beneath Fielding’s hand. “The location of the monastery is in those notes.”
Fielding certainly didn’t need their money, nor their resources. But having the opportunity, having them this desperate for his help, meant only one thing. They would be within his grasp, close enough for him to infiltrate their precious club and finally make someone pay for his father’s death.
“I don’t think you could afford me,” he told them. “My fee is thirty-thousand pounds.” Fielding expected protests and sputtering, even laughter, but he never expected compliance.
“You’ll have a banknote for half before you leave today,” Jensen said, not even blinking. “The other half when you bring us the box.”
“Will you accept our proposition?” Mr. Nichols asked.
Fielding grinned. “I will.”
CHAPTER 3
Sometime the next evening, after an exhausting journey, the coach rattled to a stop. At some point during their long ride, the men had untied her hands and removed the cloth from her mouth, making it far easier to breathe. Esme was most eager to exit the vile enclosure so she might stretch her legs and relieve herself. Neither man offered her assistance, but she managed to climb out of the rig.
Of course her hope that they had stopped at an inn and she’d be able to seek help from a stranger was dashed when she saw no welcoming lamps. Instead she faced a barren landscape without a house or even a barn in sight. Her first few steps were unsteady, but she was able to maneuver herself behind the nearest bush.
“Stay with the girl and see that she doesn’t try to run away,” Thatcher yelled.
Desperate to avoid being seen by her abductors in such a state of dishabille, Esme hurriedly tugged her clothes into place. She stepped back onto the path. Waters grabbed her arm and led her through a clearing. She surveyed their surroundings as best she could in the dusky evening light. The moon hung heavy and low behind her, still rising but illuminating the stone walls in front of them. Off in the distance she could hear water lapping at rocks and gulls crying. She inhaled deeply and filled her lungs with crisp salty air; they were on the coast.
It had taken them a while to traverse London, but once they were on the open road, they’d traveled all day and into the early evening. Not long enough to reach a western or northern coastline.
Waters grabbed her arm. “We won’t hurt you if you just do as you’re told.” He led her forward toward a bank of crumbled rock walls.
“Considering I’m not certain of what you want, cooperation might be challenging.” Esme waited for his response, but none came. Indignantly she jerked away from the man.