Heart of the Tiger by Lynn Kerstan

Author:Lynn Kerstan [Kerstan, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Nightfall and a cold drizzle had dispatched the curious and bloodthirsty citizens home to their suppers, leaving the area outside the Tower walls nearly deserted. The warder walked with Mira across the stone bridge, still chattering about infamous prisoners and their dire fates while she looked around for a hackney.

There was only one vehicle on the street, with two men huddled under broad-brimmed hats and caped coats on the driver’s bench. They straightened when the warder waved his arm, and brought the carriage forward, and one of them jumped down to open the door. “Number Four, Bow Street,” she told him.

After thanking the warder, she entered the coach, which was far nicer than any hackney she’d been in before, and settled back on the soft leather squabs. These would be her last few minutes of freedom. At least she would spend them in comfort, she was thinking when the door on the opposite side opened and a large figure filled the space.

“I beg your pardon,” said Hari Singh, taking his seat just as the coach pulled away. “I did not mean to startle you.”

And then he did so again, reaching past her to pull down the window shade. He closed the one on his side as well, while she stared at him in confusion. Light from the lantern overhead fell over his white turban, bearded chin, and cheeks the color of plums. His eyes were apologetic and sad.

“How did you know I was at the Tower?” she demanded, profoundly suspicious.

“Michael asked me to collect you. He feared you intended to do something … inadvisable.”

How had Michael Keynes known of her plans? Or that she would come to him in the Tower? “You are not taking me to Bow Street, then?”

“Nor to the Palazzo. We shall be traveling for perhaps two hours. I cannot disclose our destination.”

“You are abducting me?”

His face grew impossibly redder. “Conducting you, rather, to a place of safety. Your possessions—those you had packed—are there now, as is Mr. Holcombe.”

She shook with fury. All the while she had been in that prison with Michael Keynes, defying him, informing him of her intentions, assuring him he’d no choice but to accept her decision, he had known she would fail. Had already arranged for her to fail. No wonder he had been smiling when she left him.

Mr. Singh regarded her with evident concern. “Michael said you would not take easily to this change of plans. I regret being the cause of your distress, but where we are going, my friends will make you comfortable and welcome.”

“For how long? Until they hang him? Are you instructed to release me when he is dead?”

“Not in those words. But should it come to that, yes.”

“Then disobey him! He is your friend. I am nothing, except that I can save him. You must let me go free to do it.”

“I cannot.” Gentle, but final.

“Because you believe he really did murder the duke?” she asked after a time.

“He has not said so. But for as long as I have known him, he has dedicated himself to the destruction of his brother.

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