his jaw. He didn’t want to deal with talks of Dooley or the Fight Society. Tomorrow he’d recommit himself to the plan his friends had for their earliest tormentors. Not now. Now, he wanted the privacy of his modest rooms, where he could think on the fact that Lila March was in fact Lady Lila March, a woman determined to turn out fighters.
He choked on a harsh laugh.
She, the same woman who’d trembled outside his damned window and gone pale at the crowds of the rookeries, wished to start an arena of her own.
I’m sorry, Hugh . . . But I’m not going to change my course. There is nothing wrong in what I intend. There is only right, and if you weren’t so blinded by your hatred for what you do, you’d see that, too . . .
Her non-apology played again in his mind, as it had on a loop during his return from Mayfair.
The gall of her. And worse, the gall of him for feeling this damned awe and wonder at her pride and resolve.
And she wanted you to be part of it.
Hugh had nearly reached the stairway to his offices when Bragger lifted a hand, motioning him over.
Damn it.
“Not now.”
“It involves you,” his partner called back.
There was to be no peace this day. Hugh shifted course and made his way to the trio.
“This is Connor Steele,” Maynard said by way of introduction. “’e’s a detective.” His partner caught Hugh’s eye. “’ired ’im loike ya suggested, to ’elp foind Dooley.”
Bloody fantastic. The last thing he wanted to focus on at the moment was Dooley and their still-unknown tormentors.
“’e’s got information. A name.”
Names meant a step closer to vengeance. It was the closure his partners required, and the only attempt Hugh had at putting his past behind him. And with both came a path to their having retribution.
Connor Steele’s eyes lingered on Hugh’s scarred face. “I’ve uncovered information. Details about those with rumored links to—”
“Rumors,” Hugh said tersely. “I’m not acting on rumors.” As it was, destroying a life would be on his soul. To err and have it be the wrong man? He’d be slaughtering an innocent all over again. “If you’ll excuse me?” He started past the group.
“I’m not the manner of detective who’d provide information that wasn’t in some way backed up,” Steele said, forcing Hugh to stop. “You can be assured, any names I’ve brought forward are credible.”
Either way, the men who’d been served up to Maynard and Bragger were as good as guilty and would be dealt with.
And Hugh would be expected to play a part in that.
Even now, the other men scoured through whatever folio the detective had placed in their hands, their gazes flying over the information Steele had brought them.
“Why don’t we do this, Steele?” Hugh’s upper lip peeled back in a reflexive sneer. “When you have concrete evidence linking Dooley to the guilty parties, then bring us that.”
“That is actually one of the reasons I’m here,” the relentless man said with a gravity that managed to bring Maynard’s and Bragger’s attention from their reading. “I’ve come across details regarding Dooley’s connections to a man named Mac Diggory.”
Hugh shuttered his expression. Dead several years now, the man’s evil influence lived on still.
Connor Steele moved his gaze over Hugh’s face. “I trust that name means something to you, Mr. Savage?”
The notorious gang leader had had his hands in every venture, every criminal ring. “That name means something to every boy or girl who’s grown up in the streets of London.”
“Aye, that much is true.” Something sparked in Steele’s eyes, a flash of pain, a glint of one who knew and spoke from experience. By his dress and fine talk, he’d found his way out and remained an outsider not to be trusted. “I’d ask for a word alone with you, Mr. Savage,” he said, not even bothering to ask for confirmation on Hugh’s name.
It wasn’t a question. The resolute angle of the gentleman’s jawline indicated he was a man who had no intention of going anywhere. “You have five minutes.” Turning on his heel, Hugh led the way to the abovestairs offices he kept.
The moment he closed the door, Steele was already digging around in the satchel on his arm. “Several years ago, I learned of an underground ring that involved the kidnapping of children.”
Hugh stiffened. “I don’t know anything of that.” For all the black crimes and blood on his hands, taking boys and girls was not amongst his many sins.
“No,