The man smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good. I’ll be ready at the back of the house when it occurs.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll give ye ten minutes and then begin.”

“One more thing. My wife is quite anxious to assist in saving our daughter. She might arrive before I’ve completed my task. She’ll be carrying a weapon, perhaps two. And don’t be surprised if she’s dressed as a man.”

Mr. Norris blinked. “Pardon, guv’nor?”

“My wife is a bit of a gypsy. It’s difficult to tell what she might or might not do.”

Mr. Norris let out a long, silent whistle. “Very well, guv’nor. We’ll be on the lookout.”

“Thank you.” With that, Robert crossed the street.

Moments later, he was at the rear of the house. The servants were just beginning to stir, the kitchen door opened as the undercooks prepared the morning fires.

He slipped inside while two sleepy-looking men collected wood from the stack by the back door. Robert hurried through the kitchen to a back hallway, sliding into a pantry when footsteps approached.

He’d just exited the pantry and found the back stairs when he heard Mr. Norris yelling like a drunken coalman, shouting that he’d been cheated and wanted his dibs for the coal already delivered, or he’d call the constable. Footsteps raced toward the front of the house as the servants attempted to silence the overwrought coal vendor whose loud voice might rouse their master.

Robert slipped up two flights of stairs, taking refuge in a linen closet when heavy footsteps tromped down from the attic. When the footsteps passed by, he peered out and saw two big men disappear down the steps. So Aniston’s thugs think they are needed. Mr. Norris might meet with some trouble. But somehow, Robert thought the Runner would do just fine.

Robert hurried up the stairs. At the very top was a landing with three doors. He listened at each, deciding the middle one held the most promise.

He silently checked the knob and, finding it locked, backed up a few steps and then slammed his shoulder into the door. It broke, and he staggered into the room, where he found himself facing the third large brute.

With a roar, the man bunched his huge fist and swung in Robert’s direction. Robert ducked and, using the man’s momentum, shoved him into the wall, where his head hit with a spectacular thud.

In a perfect world, the maneuver would have ended with the giant senseless on the floor. Instead, after shaking his head like a wet dog, the man whirled to face Robert, ready for another bout.

But Robert had his pistol out and ready before the man could swing again. “Don’t even consider it. I’m quite capable of shooting you through the eye.”

The man growled. “What do ye want?”

“My daughter.” Robert pulled a small bag out of his coat pocket and tossed it to the man.

The guard caught the bag without thinking and eyed it suspiciously.