I regarded him in surprise. "I do not go in for blackmail, sir. Do I take it that your brother does?"

Franklin's rage faded, and he shook his head. "I do not know why George expects that I'll give him money. He needs money, you know, to cover his gaming debts, of which there are always so many. Last night, when I refused to give him anything, he went to Nellie and tried to frighten her." Franklin shot me a smile. "My Nellie doesn't frighten so easily."

"So I noticed," I said dryly. After a moment I said, "You love her."

"God forgive me, but I do. Her husband is a brute, and I can't.. " He sighed. "I can only do for her what I can."

I rose. "Please give Nellie my best wishes."

He got to his feet with me. "But why did George send you to her? Not for money?"

"Your brother mislaid his walking stick. Did he leave it with you?"

"Walking stick? No. But I remember him having it. He waved it in my face. It had a gold head. And he was trying to touch me for money."

I nodded, believing him. "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Summerville. It was much needed."

I took leave of him and hobbled away to find another hackney, my limp more pronounced than when I'd arrived.

I thought knew now where the walking stick was. I was half tempted to leave it there and fetch it tomorrow, after a bath and a long night's sleep, but I wanted to be finished with Summerville. I wanted to face Lady Breckenridge-the lady of blunt observations and bottomless blue eyes-without the distraction of him.

The next name that graced my list was a gaming hell in St. James's Square called The Nines. The Nines was owned by a man called Bates and an aging courtesan by name of Mrs. Fuller. The house catered to the upper classes who strolled to it from White's and Brooks's, but in truth, it admitted anyone Bates thought might drop a sufficient amount of cash. Men played against the house, and the house mostly won.