Móirín returned in the next moment. “Anyone lose any money?” She twitched her head toward the front door as Baz appeared beside her.

Brogan, to his credit, didn’t crow too loud about being correct.

Baz’s attention settled immediately on Gemma. “Is anything the matter?”

Suddenly, she felt deuced embarrassed. He’d dragged himself all the way from Finsbury on account of her. “Everything is fine,” she assured him.

“Now,” Móirín said. “Nearly got herself knifed earlier today in the middle of the street by a man who looked a far-sight too familiar with his weapon.”

“It was my uncle Silas,” Gemma said. “He wanted me to join up in the trade again. I told him I weren’t interested. Móirín and Parkington sauntered onto the scene, and he scattered like the rodent he is.”

Baz crossed to her. “I suspect your uncle Silas isn’t one to be put off a scent so easily.”

That was as true as steel. “He knows where I work. Told me all about my job and which costermonger carts I stop at. Said he could find me again in a heartbeat.”

He took her hands in his, holding her gaze with his own. “He threatened you?”

“My family ain’t known for asking nicely.” She found his touch both calming and lovely.

“I don’t imagine you can keep working for Madame Tussaud’s, can you?”

She closed her eyes and simply let herself breathe. “It’d be too dangerous. I’ll have to find something else.”

“They’ll likely find you there, too, though.”

She sighed and leaned against him, tired to her core. “I’ve got an escape, though. A way to make certain they stop looking for me.”

“You have?”

Did she dare tell him? Explain her plan? He’d provided other women in dire straits with what they needed to hop the twig out of Town. He’d understand. And he’d know she was offering him a chance to be free.

He deserved to know that.

She met his eyes. “I need to show you something.”

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Barnabus walked with Gemma’s hand in his up the stairs to her room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. Heavens, she looked beaten down.

He wasn’t entirely certain what to do or say, so he crossed to stand beside her. “Are you certain you’re fine? I can’t imagine coming face-to-face with your uncle was a pleasant thing.”

“It weren’t. But Móirín got us home by a path I don’t think I could retrace if I tried. Neither of us saw any sign we were followed.”

That was a relief. “What’s this plan you said you have for escaping?”