Denis’s coach waited for us well away from the tumult. Denis assisted Donata inside and Grenville handed up Peter as Denis climbed aboard.
“I’ll leave you here, Lacey.” Eden glanced into the coach. “Not enough room for me. You had me worried, but I might have known you had a trick up your sleeve. What the devil caused that blast?”
I knew exactly what had but decided now was not the time to enlighten him.
Grenville, who also had guessed, answered. “You never know what has been stored in these old warehouses. Gunpowder, rum, brandy. The old Custom House exploded a few years ago, and papers from it were found all the way to Hackney.”
“Indeed?” Eden asked, intrigued. “Hmm, well. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grenville.” Eden stuck out his hand, and Grenville, well-bred, shook it. “I hope to make your acquaintance again, under better circumstances.”
“Quite.” Grenville gave him a polite bow. “You are at Brooks’s? I shall look you up there.”
Eden, gratified by this exchange, bowed to Donata, waved to me, and scurried off into the crowd.
I wondered anew what had brought Eden to the Custom House in the dark hours of the morning, but for now, I was anxious to take Peter home. Grenville assisted me into the coach then clambered in after me, and Brewster slammed the door. The carriage listed as Brewster took his seat on the back.
Donata, next to Denis and across from me, had gone silent, her arms around Peter, who sat on her lap.
“All right, Peter?” I asked.
Peter’s face bore lines of exhaustion, his eyes red-rimmed. But he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“You are a brave lad. Very brave.” I patted his knee, careful not to touch Donata.
“Indeed,” Grenville said. “You showed remarkable sangfroid, Peter, in the face of danger. That is a fine thing.”
Peter sent him a grave nod. “I thought of how brave Papa was when the Frenchies caught him. I pretended I was he.”
I’d given Peter a truncated version of the ordeal that had shattered my leg and left me lame. His answer made my eyes sting.
“You’re a good lad.” My words sounded inadequate. To save myself the embarrassment of weeping in front of them, I turned to Denis. “Ridgley?” I asked.
“Yes.” Denis answered without inflection. “He was not here, but I instructed my men to bring one of his devices.”
“I see.” Ridgley was a cold-blooded maker of incendiaries, two of which had nearly killed me in the past. I’d wondered whether Denis had rid himself of the man, and he’d now given me the answer.
“It was the only way,” Denis said. “He’d not have ceased otherwise.”
“He might survive it,” I pointed out.
“He might.” Denis gave a nod. “Though I doubt it. It will teach him to leave me be.”
My anger rose. “You had that device put into a building that held my son and my wife.”
Denis stirred impatiently. “I had assumed you would leave immediately with the boy. Agreeing to Creasey’s game to satisfy his vanity was foolish, but I admit, I enjoyed seeing him bested. I had no idea that Mr. Grenville would bring her ladyship.”
Grenville sent us a weak smile. “She rather insisted.”
“Of course I did,” Donata said, some of her imperious manner returning. “I am a mother first, gentlemen. And I would have had the Runners on Mr. Creasey as soon as I had Peter safely home. There was no need for theatrics.” The icy stare she turned on Denis made me swell with pride.
“Forgive me, your ladyship, but it was necessary,” Denis said without heat. “Creasey would have found a way to elude the Runners. He has a few in his pay, and he is careful to eliminate any evidence of his deeds. I am right that he would have continued to try to kill me, possibly using you, or your son, or even your daughter as another hostage. I decided to end it. I had planned to do so another day, but Captain Lacey brought me the immediate opportunity.”
“Opportunity, you call it.” Donata’s ire rose. “He abducted my son.”
“A poor choice of words. I planned to make certain his lordship was well and safe before springing my trap.”
“It’s all right, Mama,” Peter said, patting Donata’s arm. “Papa came for me, as I knew he would. He saved us all.”
Donata’s eyes were flinty, but she did not correct him.
Grenville chuckled. “He did, indeed. Your papa has hidden depths.”
Donata turned on Denis. “Your foolishness caused my son to be put into grave danger. I would put the Runners on to you as well, but I know it would be a futile gesture.” She subsided. “Besides, I do not like that Mr. Spendlove.”
“I will do my best to make it up to you, your ladyship,” Denis said.
“See that you do.”
Donata turned away from us, staring resolutely out the window. At least her first incoherent terror had gone, and she could hold Peter and give a silent prayer of thanks that he was well.
DENIS TOOK us to South Audley Street. Grenville descended with us, wanting to see us inside and to make certain we were well.
Before I could enter behind them, Denis stopped me and spoke to me in a low voice. “This time, I owe you a debt, Lacey. When you have need of anything, send word to me, and I will do all I can.”
I gazed at him in frank astonishment. “I thought you preferred to keep all your acquaintance under your firm thumb.”
“I do. But I also know when a debt has been paid and exceeded. The advantage is to you.” Denis paused. “But never ask me to play chess. I am exceedingly bad at it.”
I looked for amusement in his eyes but found none. If he made a joke, he would not let me know.
Denis bade me a formal good morning, then ascended into his carriage once more.
“I’ll be off, meself,” Brewster said. “Now that Creasey is dust, I’ll tell Em to come home. Would be fine to see the old girl.”
“I may still have need of your help,” I said. “I have not yet cleared Eden, and he is becoming even more evasive.” I gazed up at Donata’s home that stretched high above me. “I will let him go for the moment. Now, I will rest—or perhaps hunt for somewhere else to live. My wife is not happy with me.”
“She’ll come ’round,” Brewster said with confidence. “Now that the little lordship is safely home, and all is well.”
“That remains to be seen. Donata was correct when she blamed me for this.”
“If you don’t mind me saying so, your lady is much more sensible than you. She’ll work things out.” Brewster shrugged. “You can always go back to your old rooms. Lucky you kept them, innit?”
With that cheerful observation, he trudged away up South Audley Street to make for St. Giles and home.
I entered the house. Barnstable had been caught in his shirtsleeves, polishing silver in the dining room with the footmen. He now stood in the hall, mouth open, holding a rag in a gloved hand.
Donata was busily giving him orders to have fires laid in the bedchambers and a cot made up in her room for Peter. Mrs. McGowan had remained in Gloucestershire, and Donata did not want Peter sleeping in the nursery alone.
“Can I sleep in Papa’s chamber?” Peter asked. “His snoring don’t bother me.”