I left the doctor's office and looked around. I didn't see anyone following me, I hadn't since I left the shop and Cecily. Ever since I had spoken to George Keene about becoming involved in his operations, his thugs had stopped following me as much around the city. But I still wanted to be sure.

So I took the carriage to a busy market street and wound my way around it until I felt that I had zig zagged enough to lose anyone who might have been following me. Then I made my way down a side street and then another until I found myself at the back of a very familiar row house. I reached out and jiggled the handle and smiled. Unlocked. He would never learn, would he?

I slipped into the row house and made my presence known by closing the door loudly behind me.

"Ryland," I called into the open space but received no answer. I wasn't surprised. I doubted the man spent much time at home given the nature of his work. So I moved to the writing desk he had arranged in his living room and opened the drawer to find a scrap of paper, intending to leave him a note, when suddenly I heard a shuffle from the room above me.

"Don't be going through my drawers, Porter!" a familiar, rugged voice shouted down the steps and I smiled as I stepped away from the desk. A moment later, a red-faced detective came marching down the stairs as he tied his tie around his neck. "Can't a man get dressed for an evening shift in peace?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Chief Detective," I told him as he came to a stop in front of me.

"What is it, Charlotte? Something must be wrong for you to have risked coming here."

He crossed to the window and looked out onto the street briefly before closing the curtains so we could not be seen from outside.

"I need that list," I told him. "Now."

He just stared at me for a moment, blinking in surprise.

"It isn't finished yet," he argued.

"How many names are on it?"

"About twenty. Maybe thirty."

"It will have to do. I have an opening tonight and I have to take it. I don't know if I'll get another one."

Still, he watched me.

"What's happened, Charlotte?" he asked.

"You don't trust me?" I answered stupidly. Of course, he didn't. He wouldn't be the Chief Detective if he did. He raised a brow and I sighed. "I have an opening, Ryland. That's all I can tell you for now."

"I want to trust you, Charlotte, and you haven't given me any reason not to thus far. But I worry that you may try to rush things in an effort to have certain... people returned to you sooner rather than later."

My cheeks burned at the accusation but I knew that he was right to worry.

"Those people," I began, matching his tone, "are the reason I'm doing any of this in the first place. I would never risk their safety or my own by calling in a favor before it was due. You will have the Keene's, Ryland, and with all of the proof that you need to put them away forever. But you have to trust me more than this."

He considered me for a moment before nodding. Then he disappeared back up the stairs and I heard him rifling through his files above. I waited in the living room of his small row house, hearing the scratching of his pen upstairs and knowing he was compiling the list I requested. With nothing else to occupy my mind, I took a step toward the window that the Chief Detective had covered with the curtains. I slid them aside slightly and froze.

Out on the street, across the road and staring straight at the window, straight at me, was Nathaniel Harrison. My lips parted in surprise as our eyes met. I moved to the door but by the time I was able to open it, he had climbed back into his carriage and rode away. I stood in the threshold, blinking after him, wondering if my mind was playing tricks on me, if my lack of sleep was truly starting to get to me.

"Charlotte?" Chief Detective Ryland asked from behind me. "What are you doing? Close the door and come inside."

When I didn't move, he reached over me and closed the door himself. Finally, I turned to face him.

"What is it?" he asked. "What did you see?"

"Nothing," I snapped. Then I took the list he was holding and headed for the back door. He called out after me but I ignored him, too confused to answer. When I reached the back door, however, I remembered a vital piece of information that I had promised myself I would tell him and stopped. I turned back, my hand on the door handle. "By the way, don't trust Higgins."

Then I was out of the door and making my way back through the side streets towards the market where I had left my carriage. I kept an eye open for Nathaniel Harrison as I strode but did not see him again.

My heart raced as I walked and it kept pounding against my chest as I climbed back into the carriage I had left behind. What was he doing outside of the Chief Detective's private residence? Why had he simply walked away from me? And why was he even in London? He and Elena were still supposed to be on their honeymoon. I muttered a curse when I came up with no answers and then pushed the strange occurrence from my mind. I would have to reason it out later, perhaps even go and talk to him myself, but for now I needed to focus on my plan. I was running out of time to make it happen.

I instructed the carriage driver to return me to the Keene's and opened the list on my lap as I settled in for the ride. As my eyes roved over the names on the page, they grew wider and wider. Many of these men I had heard of, some I had even met. One in particular I could remember meeting at an illegal auction that Alexander and I had attended during our first case together. Hands shaking, I folded the letter and stuck it into my bag, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths to focus. I had made it this far. I could not allow anything to risk the progress I had made or that I would be making this evening.

When I arrived back at the Keene manor, I made my way upstairs to ready myself for dinner. I dressed in one of Elena's old baby blue lace gowns and was just putting the last pins into my hair when there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find Camden Keene smiling down at me.

"You look exquisite," he told me with a smirk.

"This isn't a date," I reminded him as I pushed past him into the hall. "It's a negotiation."

"I don't imagine there would be much of a difference with you."

I rolled my eyes and descended the stairs to the foyer below. As Camden was grabbing his things, I glanced into the drawing room to find Cecily seated on the couch across from her sisters in law. She frowned at me as Camden looped an arm through mine and led me out of the house and to the waiting carriage beyond.

We climbed inside and set off for the member of Parliament's house. I took my time settling in, smoothing out my dress with my fingers so that I would not have to look up at him. I felt him watching me all the same, though, and it was only a matter of time until he began flirting with me again.

"If this were a date," he started after a minute and I sighed, looking up at him as he spoke, "would you have worn that dress?"

"What's wrong with this dress?" I snapped.

"Nothing," he answered with a smile. "You look stunning in any dress. But that one is very proper."

"Meant for meeting a member of Parliament, I suppose," I brushed him off and he snorted.

"You know, no one has ever made me work this hard before."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean."

"I think you do."

At that, the carriage came to a stop and one of the Keene's loyal drivers was holding the door open for us to exit. Camden went first, holding out a hand to take my own and help me down like the gentleman he was pretending to be. I hesitated before I took it, uncomfortably aware of how many times I had done this before and the man who was usually on the other side.

"Gwen?" he asked after a moment of my hesitation.

"Sorry," I muttered. "Just thought I'd forgotten something."

He nodded and I took his hand and allowed him to help me onto the sidewalk beyond.

"Nervous?" he whispered once my arm was tucked within his own and we were walking toward the massive double doors of our host's estate which were already being held open for us.

"Perhaps a bit," I answered just as quietly. "I've never met a member of Parliament before."

"He's just a man. Just like me. My father is far scarier, trust me."

He shot me a wink and I smiled at the barb but it vanished the moment we crossed the threshold. The butler awaiting us had been instructed to take us through the elaborate halls to the elegant dining room. He held the door open as we entered and Camden and I strode inside to find the man seated at the large oak table. He stood to greet us, shaking Camden's hand and kissing my own. I noticed that his wife was nowhere to be found.

"Mr. Keene," he greeted as I glanced at my surroundings. "An honor to have you as always. And a pleasure to meet you, Miss..."

"Marlowe," I said with a smile. "Gwendolyn Marlowe."

"Miss Marlowe," he nodded. "Beautiful, Mr. Keene. I would tell you to hold onto this one but you seem to have a tight enough grasp on her as it is."

At his words, Camden glanced down at where he still held my arm and chuckled as he extricated himself from me and pulled out a chair. I sat in it and allowed him to push it in before he sat down in the one next to me. Our host sat back at the head of the table where he had been.

"I apologize that my wife could not make it," he told us then. "She's quite busy nowadays with her engagements."

We nodded graciously though I thought I might know of another reason Mrs. Campbell may not want to venture into the public eye just yet. The host clapped his hands and a servant entered with our meals, pouring us some wine as they were sat in front of us.

"So," Mr. Campbell said as he settled in for his meal. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I had hoped to discuss our arrangement," Camden said seriously, sitting forward business like as he did. I remained quiet, taking bites of my food and listening intently to their conversation. "We are grateful, of course, for the protection you have been providing. I know you have a close relationship with the Chief of Police. However, it seems there has been some interest in my father's dealings as of late and we are seeking assurance that we have nothing to worry about."

Richard Campbell narrowed his eyes at Camden and glanced briefly to me before answering, "I have no knowledge of the inner workings of the police department. Even my relationship with their Chief does not afford me that."

"But it could," Camden pointed out. "If you were to ask directly for the information, they would give it. You're a member of Parliament, after all. Let's not pretend that doesn't mean something."

Mr. Campbell's eyes narrowed again and his lips pursed in a way which told me that he simultaneously wasn't used to being spoken to in this way and that he wasn't going to argue with this boy forty years his junior.

"What would you have me do?" he finally asked after a moment. Camden smiled, knowing he had him precisely where he wanted him.

"Perhaps there is another room nearby that we can discuss the details? It isn't for a lady to hear," he stood from his chair, buttoning his suit back as he did. Mr. Campbell's eyes slid to me briefly before he stood to join him, irritated that the boy hadn't waited until the culmination of dinner to conduct their business as was customary. But I wasn't surprised. Camden Keene was not known for his patience or his ability to make irrelevant small talk.

They each offered me a small nod and a promise of return as they exited the dining room. I watched them go, feeling for my purse in my lap and wondering if Camden were truly attempting to be mindful of my feminine sensibilities or if he simply did not trust me enough yet to know the whole of his plan. It did not matter to me either way, so long as it got them both out of the room long enough. And it did. But only barely. Whatever it was that Camden had proposed, Mr. Campbell must have agreed to very quickly for they were reentering the room in a matter of minutes and I was sitting straighter in my chair as they did, preparing for what was to come.

"I'm so glad you were able to see our side of things, Mr. Campbell," Camden was saying happily as he resumed his seat next to me and took a sip of his wine.

"Yes," Mr. Campbell grunted with mild acknowledgement as he returned to his own drink.

"I think we will have a much better working relationship between the two of us now that we're agreed. When do you think it likely that we should start to see the agreed upon increase in-"

He stopped in the middle of his sentence, face going starkly pale as his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell into an unceremonious heap onto the floor between the chair he had previously occupied and Mr. Campbell's own. The member of Parliament burst to his feet, shouting an obscenity in surprise. He took a step forward to check on the boy's wellbeing but I halted his progress.

"He's fine," I spoke and his eyes snapped to mine, wild and shocked. "He will awaken soon enough. We don't have much time."

"What do you-"

I held up the vial and his eyes widened at the sight of it. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to find the words to speak, tried to understand what was happening. I did not give him the time he needed. We didn't have it. Instead, I slipped the list from my bag and slid it across the table to him. He glanced down at it, eyes roving over the names on the page.

"What is this?" he asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"A list of men as beholden to the Keene family as you are," I told him. His eyes found mine again, once more in surprise, before he glanced back to the names.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"It doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to do his bidding."

He frowned and then pushed the list back across the table to me.

"I do," he replied. "You know I do. Just look at that list. You see how much power he holds. How could I go against him?"

"You couldn't," I admitted, "alone. But if you flipped on him, told the police what you know about George Keene's dealings, the involvement of his family members. You already have a relationship with the police, no one would be suspicious of seeing you go to them. And if you did, given your position in society, I'm willing to bet that others would too."

"How many others?" he asked, raising a brow as he settled into the negotiations more easily now. "It would have to be nearly all of them. I don't think you understand just how much of London this man controls. You see the confidence it's given the son. The father is exponentially worse. I may be a member of Parliament but it is the Keene family who governs London. They afford me protection because I do as they ask."

"Protection from them," I countered. "What more could you need protection from? This is how they gain their power. It's how they maintain it. They make this city dangerous enough for its leaders to need their protection. You think your problems went away over night because you hired the Keene's thugs to watch over your family? No. They went away because they stopped causing them. The only people in this city who you are in danger from are the Keene's themselves."

"This is insane," he shook his head then and slid the list even further to me, solidifying his point that he would take no part in my plot. I reached below the table and pried the ring off of my left hand. I set it atop the table in front of me.

"Your wife lost her ring, yes? It was a family heirloom, passed down from your mother, an item of much sentimental attachment," I said and his gaze fell to the ring on the table as his lips parted slightly in surprise at the sight of it.

"Where did you find-"

"He took it," I interrupted. "He stole it from your home when his thugs were welcomed into it. And you never knew. I found it in their shop, being counted along with an innumerable amount of other stolen jewels. You think you are dealing with an empire but George Keene is merely a petty thief and a murderer with a penchant for fear tactics."

"I- but how-" he stuttered as he reached across the table and grasped the ring in his hands. He turned it over delicately, examining the article to ensure it was, in fact, his ancestral jewel. I gave him a moment but knew we were running out of time.

"You have a choice to make," I told him, my tone serious as I returned to the point. "To decide who you want to trust and how you want to live. I am on your side. I will champion your cause if you should choose to disclose what you know to the police. This family has affected my own as well. But you must tell no one of this conversation. My life would be at risk if you did. As much as I despise having to resort to Keene family tactics, there are certain dalliances in your wife's recent history that you have gone to great lengths to hide. I would hate to have to expose them should I become exposed myself."

He gaped at me then, stunned by the bold speech of a woman he had thought nothing more of than a pretty instrument on Camden Keene's arm moments before. Speaking of the youngest Keene son, a low moan sounded to my left. I schooled my features into concern at once and leapt up to kneel at his side. I cradled his head in my hands and worked myself up nearly to tears as I gazed down at him and his eyelids fluttered slowly open.

"G-Gwendolyn?" he said first, looking gently around himself as he came to. "What happened?"

"Oh Camden!" I cried, doing my best to appear shaken. "You just fell over and we couldn't rouse you! I was so worried!"

I even went so far as to lean in and tighten my grip in an almost embrace. It made him smile.

"Perhaps I should faint more often," he teased and I gave him a playful swat on the chest.

"Don't you dare!"

I caught a glimpse of the horrified, surprised look on Richard Campbell's face and prayed he would regain his composure by the time Camden remembered his presence. Now, however, the boy was simply chuckling and trying to sit up.

"Don't overwork yourself," I warned. "You've just lost consciousness. Are you feeling well enough to stand?"

"I believe so."

With my help, he made his way to his feet, shaking his head as if to free his muddled mind from the foggy feeling I knew the draught had left behind.

"My apologies, Mr. Campbell," Camden spoke with a hand to his temple as he stood upright. "I must have been a bit dehydrated from the day and I suppose the wine went straight to my head."

Richard Campbell nodded at the explanation, taking pains to keep his gaze off of me, as he gestured to us to take our seats and resume our meal. We did and I returned to eating as the men turned to business, feeling a certain set of eyes upon me from time to time throughout.