Текст книги "The Counterfeit Lady"

Автор книги: Kate Parker

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I awoke to light streaming into my room. Vague memories of riding in the duke’s carriage to carry out a tryst sprang to mind as I leaped up in bed.

“Good. You’re awake,” Emma said.

“How did I get here?” I asked.

“The Duke of Blackford carried you in from his coach. It seems he couldn’t wake you. He laid you down and wished us a good night.”

“Blast.”

“Apparently you destroyed your chance to begin your affair with him last night. He was put out that you’re ruining his reason to have us invited to the Harwin estate.”

“I’ll just have to flirt harder today.”

“I think it’s going to take more than that.” As she handed me a dressing gown, Emma added, “Were you going to, eh, er . . .”

“I will not be any man’s mistress. Especially not a duke who will soon be looking for a duchess and getting rid of any inconvenient mistresses.” The idea of Blackford tossing me aside was a physical ache in my chest. I enjoyed his company too much to dare complicate our friendship.

She put up her hands, palms out. “I’m sorry. Get cleaned up. It’s almost time to go.”

Was she sorry because I’d failed that night, or because Blackford would soon lose interest in me when the investigation ended?

“I need to send a message to Sir Broderick. Anyone available from the Archivist Society for the next few days must travel out there to encircle Lord Harwin’s gardens. The police don’t have enough manpower to watch for Snelling and those ship plans. I don’t think Whitehall and the Admiralty believe Gattenger is innocent in the theft and the murder. We’ll be practically on our own.”

I wrote a note during breakfast and included Blackford’s offer to arrange for lodging and transport. Emma gave Mary directions and sent her off to Sir Broderick’s, certain she was plucky enough to find her way and honest enough not to read the note.

I’d rarely traveled by train, since I seldom left London. I couldn’t guess how the Duke of Blackford would turn this unusual event into a surprise, but he’d promised Phyllida to do so.

Phyllida, Emma, and I traveled to Paddington Station with our luggage piled on the roof and back of a carriage. When we descended into the swirling mass of porters, passengers, and news boys, Phyllida took a step backward. She collided with our cabbie, who fell forward, shoving the trunk he held into a porter who was unloading more luggage. Then she swung around to apologize and stepped on the foot of an office worker racing past. I took her by the arm and led her to a quiet spot along the wall while Emma saw to the unloading.

“Is it always like this?” she whispered into my ear.

“Yes. Remember, you traveled away from London for long periods after—” I didn’t need to say anything else to the timid woman to remind her of our story covering the years she’d lived with me. And I didn’t want to mention her murderous brother and his capture ten years before.

Another carriage pulled up behind ours, and Baron von Steubfeld and Lady Bennett alighted. While a German valet and an English lady’s maid saw to the luggage, they walked over to join us. I noticed the valet was a tall, beefy man. I wondered if he could have been the one who’d threatened Gattenger.

After we went through our round of curtsies and bows, Phyllida said, “I always have to stand to the side. Otherwise, large men in a hurry knock me over.”

“The Englishman has no sense of order,” the baron replied. After Lady Bennett’s elbow discreetly hit his ribs, he added, “I hope you’ve not been injured.”

“Not today,” Phyllida replied. “Mrs. Monthalf takes good care of me.”

Blackford appeared at my side. More curtsying and bowing. Then he said, “You’re all here. Good. If you’ll follow me?”

He led us at an angle through the vast station. Past family groups escaping the heat of the city with their entire households bunched together blocking the way. Past commuters hurrying into the furnace that was London from the slightly cooler suburbs. Past tiny shops selling papers, books, tea, and meat pies. My ears ached from the sound of so many rushing footsteps, shouting voices, and the clanging metal of carts. I tried not to choke on the pungent, smoky air.

Finally, the duke led our parade of passengers and luggage through a door to a landing with a long train parked alongside. A railway official directed the porters and the maids and the baron’s valet farther along the platform. Emma gave me a nod as she passed. From where the duke stopped, we would enter the last car. Unlike a regular first-class carriage, with its row of doors along the side, this car had only one.

The duke gave me his hand, and I stepped up and inside. For an instant I froze, staring at the elegant parlor surrounding me. So this was the Duke of Northumberland’s saloon car. Then I remembered the people behind me and walked across the room to where Sir Henry Stanford and Lady Peters stood to greet us.

More curtsies and bows. I didn’t curtsy in my shop all day as much as I had that morning. “Isn’t this lovely?” Rosamond Peters said. “It was clever of the duke to borrow this carriage from his friend.”

I looked around me at the elegant furnishings. “I had no idea such rail carriages existed.”

Sir Henry said, “The Duke of Northumberland owns several railroads. He uses this car when he’s inspecting his lines, but at the moment he’s shooting in Scotland. I believe this rail coach is unique.”

I gave them both a smile. “Well, I’m certainly glad Northumberland lent the carriage to the duke. This will make travel so much more pleasant.”

After Phyllida greeted the couple, I settled her in a sturdy-looking upholstered chair facing in the direction we’d be moving. I hoped the view out the window next to her would distract her because she was already turning pale. I took the other seat of the pair, planning to sit with her while we began our journey and then leave to question our fellow passengers. When she clutched my hand, I gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re certain this is necessary, Georgia?”

I frowned at the use of my real name. “You’ll be fine.”

Blackford must have seen the exchange, because he came over and knelt in front of Phyllida. “Should you feel unwell, there’s a room with a basin and towels right behind you.”

“Thank you, but with the movement of the carriage, I’m not certain I’ll be able to walk.”

“Then Mrs. Monthalf and I will assist you.” Quieter, so only Phyllida and I could hear, he added, “We need your help, Phyllida. Remember Clara.”

She lifted her chin and gave him a lovely smile. “I’ll be fine.” Glancing around the rail carriage, she said, “This is a tremendous surprise, Duke. Thank you.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you for helping us, Lady Monthalf.”

“Your Grace, has Stevens heard from Snelling?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “It was a good idea, but he was apparently more distrustful than greedy.”

“At least we know the ship won’t sink.”

“I spoke to the Admiralty official who took Gattenger another set of blueprints to redo his calculations. He said it appears to be everything he’d hoped. An engineering marvel.”

If the ship was an engineering marvel, then the ship’s plans were worth all our efforts to reclaim them. I gave Blackford a relieved smile. Actually, every time I looked at him I wanted to smile.

We kept up a steady conversation to divert Phyllida. Once we had jerked into motion and crept out of the station, Blackford left us. I walked over to where Sir Henry stood alone by a window. “Not much of a traveler, is she?” he asked.

“Lady Phyllida finds the movement of the train upsetting.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Only until she gets to her destination. Then she’s ready to have a grand time.”

“I heard you saved her from a robber yesterday.” When I replied with a dismissive gesture, he said, “Don’t be so modest. What happened?”

“Phyllida bought a new hat. It looks stunning on her. Some young thug grabbed it and ran. I ran after him, which was good because he immediately ran down a dead-end alley. A bobby came and took him away.” Well, that was what happened, more or less.

“That was very brave of you.”

“Or very stupid. I suspect the latter.”

“Remind me not to carry out any crimes around you.” He gave me a wide smile.

“Blackmail is a crime. And I suppose you’ll force me to do illegal things to keep my secret secure.” I returned a rigid smile showing teeth.

“Going through a gentleman’s desk is considered a crime by the people we’ll be visiting in Gloucestershire. Being penniless and untitled is another crime to this group. Remember, one word from me and you’ll be snubbed by everyone, including the duke. You’d probably be thrown out of the house and sent back to London.”

I couldn’t carry out my investigation if I were sent back to London in disgrace, but he definitely didn’t sound like my anonymous letter writer.

Wonderful. That meant two people in this investigation had figured out I was trying to deceive them. And I didn’t know the identity of one of them.

“Besides,” he added, “what I’ll have you do will be easy enough for your tender sensibilities.”

His scornful tone on “tender sensibilities” told me he didn’t see me as a lady. I was only middle-class, but I was still insulted. “Did you put in motion the events that led to Mrs. Gattenger’s death?”

The smile crumbled from his face, replaced by anger blazing from his eyes. “I’m deeply sorry about Mrs. Gattenger. She was your cousin, wasn’t she? But Ken Gattenger lost his nerve when I asked him about the blueprints and said I’d go to the Admiralty Board.”

“What do you think happened?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Gattenger had doubts. He panicked and, in a fit of anger or cowardice, threw the plans in the fire. Probably planned to claim a burglar took them. Buy himself more time to correct his calculations while the hunt was on for his mythical burglar. Clara saw what he was doing and tried to stop him. What came next was a terrible accident.”

I raised my eyebrows. “‘Clara’?”

Sir Henry lowered his voice. “We were friends for many years. Clara was the kindest, brightest lady of my acquaintance. A true beauty. Her death is a great loss.”

The expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. “You were in love with her.”

He took a step away from me. “I admired her. She was married. There’s nothing else to say.” Sir Henry stomped to the other side of the railroad carriage.

She’d only been married for the past year. What had happened between Clara and Sir Henry in the many years before her wedding?

I walked over to where the baron was pouring himself a cup of coffee into a delicate china cup from a silver urn. “Ah, Mrs. Monthalf. I see you’ve suffered no adverse effects from stopping a robbery.”

“None, thank you. My cousin and I appreciated your taking us home in your carriage. That was very kind.”

“Not at all.”

“Have your guests departed?”

“My guests?”

“The Duchess of Bad Ramshed and her daughter.”

He gave one deep chuckle. “They weren’t my guests. Because they’re relatives of the kaiser’s wife, the embassy has a duty to smooth their journey. In the ambassador’s absence, it becomes my responsibility.”

“Does the duchess often need to have her journeys smoothed?”

“Did you meet her?”

“Yes. At Lady Bennett’s.”

He gave a wry smile as his diplomatic reply.

“Lady Bennett seemed to get along well with her.”

“Lady Bennett loves royalty.”

“She must be very useful when you have work to do and guests at the embassy.”

“She is indeed. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” He walked off with his coffee cup, leaving me to wonder how I’d be able to question someone who, as a diplomat, was so practiced at saying nothing.

The rail carriage began to shake and I took the chair next to Phyllida. “I’m sure in a little while the ride will be much smoother.”

“How long is this trip?”

Blackford crouched down facing her, keeping good balance despite the jolts that whipped through the carriage. “Two hours or a little more. Is there anything you require, Lady Phyllida?”

“Distraction.”

He smiled. “Are you familiar with the entire party who’ll be at Harwin’s estate?”

“Besides those in this carriage? No.”

“There’ll be a friend or two of the Harwins’ son from Oxford, one or two young ladies the same age as Harwin’s daughter, who was presented at court this past spring, and I imagine a few others. A bishop and his wife, perhaps, to keep us all on good behavior.”

“It sounds jolly. How close is the Marquis of Tewes’s estate?” Phyllida asked, holding the arms of her chair in a death grip as we rounded a bend in the tracks.

Blackford rested one hand on a chair arm to keep his crouched balance. “I believe the estates are adjoining. Have you been holding out on me, Lady Monthalf? You know more about where we’re going than I do.”

“Lady Ormond mentioned she was going there and that we’d be neighbors.”

“Is this also jolly?” the duke asked.

“Not if you’re visiting the marquis. Lady Ormond is an awful gossip.”

Blackford patted her hand. “Thanks for the warning. Ah, we seem to be running smoothly now. If you’ll excuse me?”

He rose and walked off with a grace I couldn’t help but watch. Phyllida cleared her throat.

I turned my attention to her. “Are you doing all right?”

“Yes, thank you. Lady Bennett has been watching you watch the duke. The evidence of your liaison is obvious.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one could mistake your gaze. Well done.”

I hadn’t been acting, but I wouldn’t tell Phyllida that. “Good,” I said with finality.

In a little while, Phyllida felt comfortable enough with the rocking of the train that I could walk over to sit on the couch with Rosamond Peters. “I feel cooler already,” she told me.

“I’ve come to love London, but it will be nice to spend a little time in the country. Is it always so hot this time of year?” Georgia Fenchurch knew it wasn’t, but this was just the sort of question Georgina Monthalf would ask.

“No. This heat wave has been far different from our weather the last few years. Tell me, where did you get the courage to chase after a robber? I’ve heard he knocked over your maid and stole some of your purchases, and you stopped him and had everything returned.”

I laughed. “Where did you hear that?”

“Lady Bennett.”

“Who heard it from the baron. He’s the real hero of the story. He came to Phyllida’s aid and gave us a ride home in his carriage once the excitement had passed.” I looked over to see the baron in close conversation with Sir Henry while Lady Bennett flirted outrageously with the duke. Could the baron and Sir Henry be taking this opportunity to discuss terms for Sir Henry to sell Germany the blueprints?

I mistrusted every conversation I couldn’t hear between our suspects. Finally, I turned back to Lady Peters.

She was saying, “But you chased down a robber? You ladies from the Far East are very brave.”

“I only had to chase him a few steps. He ran into a dead-end alley. All I had to do was stop him until the bobby came, and my maid did most of that.”

“How clever to have a useful maid. Minette would have expected me to save her.”

“You have a French maid? However did you manage that?” French maids were favored over English ones by anyone who could afford a lady’s maid.

“I have family who helped me arrange it.”

“Do you speak French?”

“Of course. Just as you must have learned to speak French in school. And now I guess you speak Chinese or some other Far Eastern tongue.”

I shook my head. No sense in getting caught in a lie over that. “I never managed to learn a word. I’m a dunce at languages.” Wanting to change the topic, I said, “You were carrying a hatbox when we saw you. It was a lucky thing you weren’t the one the robber attacked. You were on your own, having sent your maid back. You could have been hurt.”

“Do you think he was after hatboxes? How very odd.” Rosamond Peters studied the thick blue carpet at her feet as she spoke.

“I know he was. He said he was hired to steal hatboxes.”

She looked at me with a half smile. “Probably a rival milliner. They can be ruthless competitors.”

“You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

Rosamond Peters laughed at me. “Georgina, you are such a mistrustful soul.”

Sir Henry Stanford joined us. “What’s so amusing?” His gaze told me to watch my step.

“Mrs. Monthalf has the measure of most of London. You must watch what you say around her.” Her tone was light, but I wished she hadn’t warned him to be careful of me. The more helpless he thought I was, the safer I’d be.

His eyes narrowed as he gave us both a smile, waiting to hear more. I wasn’t going to enlighten him.

“Being near government and the queen, Mrs. Monthalf believes we have all taken to being mysterious and deceitful,” Lady Peters said.

I shook my head and laughed. “I don’t believe I said anything of the sort.”

“Then forgive me,” she said with a nod, “I misunderstood you.” She turned to Sir Henry. “Mrs. Monthalf said the most amazing thing. The thief who stole Lady Monthalf’s hatbox told her he was hired to steal hatboxes.”

“The heat is getting to people,” Sir Henry scoffed. I thought he looked relieved. Perhaps I could eliminate him as the man who’d hired the hatbox thief, but he could certainly have orchestrated stealing the warship plans.

The duke came over from where he’d been talking to Lady Bennett, his face unusually red. “There have been strange incidents occurring in London lately. I challenge you to make sense of any of them.”

“Stranger than stealing hatboxes?” I asked.

“Leading a goat through the cellars beneath Parliament.”

Sir Henry chuckled. “I read about that. Bizarre.”

The duke glanced over his shoulder. “Mrs. Monthalf, you might want to check on your cousin. Lady Monthalf looks unwell.”

“Excuse me.” I leaped from the sofa, but just as I did so the train swayed and I bumped into the duke. With masterly charm, he tucked my arm inside his and walked me to the chair next to Phyllida’s.

I sat heavily and said, “Phyllida, are you all right?”

She gripped my arm. “Are we going to crash?”

“No. It’s just a stretch of track that is bumpier than before.”

“Please stay here with me.”

“Of course.” I smiled at the duke, who nodded in return and walked off.

“Learn anything?” Phyllida asked when we were alone in our area of the carriage. She looked at me intently, gripping my arm with one hand. She must have believed our journey would prove Gattenger’s innocence, else she would never have withstood this train ride. She was terrified.

“Sir Henry was in love with Clara. Did you know about him? What did Clara think of him as a suitor?”

Phyllida leaned toward me and lowered her voice. “I’d seen Clara and Sir Henry together a few times before her marriage to Kenny. The last time she and Kenny called off their engagement, I thought she would marry Sir Henry, but he was disappointed.”

“Were their feelings equal, or did Sir Henry love Clara more than she did him?”

Phyllida pursed her lips together for a moment. “Their loves were different. Clara loved him like a brother. Sir Henry’s feelings were more romantic.”

“Was Sir Henry angry enough at Ken Gattenger to hire the burglar to steal the blueprints?” I asked.

“But Clara was killed.”

“Not the result that was expected or wanted. But what if Kenny was the one who was supposed to die?”

Phyllida’s eyebrows rose to the ceiling of the train carriage. “Then the Germans might not have anything to do with the burglary and we’ve been looking at this all wrong.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WE both jumped when Sir Henry pulled over a chair and sat at my side. “I don’t think I’ve properly expressed my condolences on the death of your cousin Clara Gattenger,” he said to both of us.

“Thank you,” Phyllida said. Her face looked like it would crumble at any moment, but her eyes were fearful as she looked at him.

“I accused Sir Henry of being in love with Clara. I should apologize,” I said. It was a clumsy way to interrogate him again, but I needed to learn more without making him suspect I was more than a penniless widow and a chance thief.

“Please don’t apologize. You’re correct. I was a little in love with her. Had been for years. Not that anything inappropriate happened,” he rushed to assure us. “She saw me as a friend of her father’s. Nothing more.”

“I’m sure we all loved Clara,” Phyllida said and reached out a hand to Sir Henry. He grasped it for a moment and nodded over her fingers.

When he let go of Phyllida, I said, “I hope Clara’s not the reason you haven’t remarried. That’s not something she would have wanted.”

“No. I’ve grown used to having my freedom to come and go as I want. But, like my close relationship with Clara, I would like your friendship, Mrs. Monthalf.” He gave me a fearsome smile, teeth showing.

“As I would like yours. I’m sure you and I and the duke and Lady Peters can all be good friends.” I smiled, hoping he got the message that I wasn’t entirely friendless.

Sir Henry smiled broadly. “I hope we’re better friends than you are with them.” He took my hand and clutched it.

When he didn’t let me go, I said, “Tell me about your shipyard. You said it’s the most modern in Britain.”

He gazed into my eyes, looking uneasy. “Yes.”

“Installing new machinery must have cost a fortune.” I tried to pull free and failed.

“But it will be worth it in the end. I’ll be able to build ships faster and better to satisfy my customers.”

“Including the queen.”

“Her Majesty’s government is my biggest customer.”

I jerked my hand free. “With your important position in the industry, of course you were called on to bid on building Gattenger’s new warship.”

“Of course.”

“Did you discuss the bidding with Clara?”

“No, with Gattenger. He knew how keen I was to build the ship. If that warship lives up to expectations, it will make the reputation of both Gattenger and whoever is chosen to build the first models.” He stressed the “if.”

“And I imagine a tremendous windfall for the builder.”

He nodded. “Only if it floats. Otherwise, the shipyard that builds it will be ruined.”

I lowered my voice. “I told you, Gattenger said the design is sound.”

He studied me for a moment. “I hope you aren’t lying to me. That would be unwise.”

“The Admiralty heard doubts and had Kenny check his calculations again. All is well.” He moved as if to get out of his chair and I set a hand on his arm. “Did Clara know about your doubts?”

“No. I’d never tell her. When I talked to her the night before she”—he swallowed and swiped at his eyes—“was murdered, I’d planned to see Gattenger. Not Clara.”

Across the railway carriage, Lady Bennett and Lady Peters laughed at something Blackford had said. Tamping down jealousy, I focused on Sir Henry. “You spoke to our cousin the night before she died?”

He looked embarrassed to have admitted it. Then he glanced around to make sure no one could overhear us. “Kenny wasn’t there that evening. Being old friends, Clara kindly invited me in.”

“So you two were quite alone,” Phyllida said, for the first time looking fierce.

Sir Henry reared back. “It was nothing like that.”

“You kept quiet to protect her reputation?” Phyllida sounded as if she were interrogating Sir Henry.

“Exactly.”

“Where was Gattenger? Was he expected home soon?” I asked.

“Clara didn’t know where he’d gone or when he’d come back. She seemed lonely. Frightened. It wasn’t hard to see something was wrong.”

“Did she tell you what was bothering her?”

“She only said she was distressed. She refused to give me any details. Said it had nothing to do with me, that it was personal. Between her and Kenny. If only I’d pressed her harder to tell me, perhaps I could have done something to save her.”

“You think Gattenger killed his wife.”

“Isn’t it obvious, with something between her and Kenny upsetting her? Scotland Yard thinks so, too.”

“You’ve talked to Scotland Yard about your talk with cousin Clara the night before her death?” I’d have been surprised to learn he’d volunteered any information. He seemed to want to use anything he discovered for his own benefit.

“Of course not. The police would see it as another nail in Gattenger’s coffin. And Britain needs Gattenger alive designing ships.”

“Could your doubts about Gattenger’s warship design have led to her death?” I pressed him, not knowing how much longer I had until we’d arrive in Cheltenham Spa.

“If I thought I had done anything to lead to her death, even indirectly, I’d shoot myself. I adored Clara.” The pain in his eyes spoke of his honesty. I hoped the pain was real.

“When you saw her that last time, did you tell Clara how much she meant to you?”

Sir Henry blinked at my question. “No. Never. Gattenger was the one who wandered before their marriage. Clara stayed true to him, although I told her how much I cared for her while she was still free to choose me. In the end, Gattenger returned to her and I lost the love of my life.”

“I’d imagine Clara blamed Ken for their breakups if she blamed anyone. It usually is the male who’s the pursuer,” Phyllida said.

He glanced at Phyllida. “Not this time. Lady Bennett deliberately came between them, causing Clara to break off their engagement for the second time. That estrangement wasn’t as long as the first one, only a few weeks, but I took the opportunity to court Clara again.”

“‘Again’?” I was beginning to sound like a parrot. Hopefully Stanford would mark my verbal clumsiness down to being a middle-class colonial.

“I also courted her before her original engagement to Gattenger, and then when they called it off the first time.”

“How long ago was that?”

Sir Henry was looking at me suspiciously. “They were engaged eight years ago, and then broke up about three years later. Several months passed before Gattenger came crawling back to Clara. Poor woman forgave him both times.”

“So you’d been courting Clara off and on for eight years. That shows a rare dedication.” I tried to sound sympathetic. Truly, I thought he was a little mad.

“Clara was a very special woman.”

Phyllida interrupted us. “It was Kenny who broke off the engagement both times after Clara refused to set a date for the wedding because of her father. She wouldn’t leave him, and Kenny grew frustrated. Men do, I’m afraid, and so they begin affairs.”

I glanced at Phyllida, surprised at her worldly insight. Either she hadn’t been as cloistered as I’d thought in the days when the queen had a growing family or Emma and I had unwittingly provided her with an education.

“Gattenger’s a good-looking man. He’s always attracted women. Not always high-moraled women,” Sir Henry said.

I’d only seen him in Newgate Prison and at Sunday dinners. He’d always seemed pale and timid. Once I’d met Blackford, I discovered my tastes ran to dark and bold. “He is?”

“Yes, the man has that blond Greek god look that women find impossible to resist. Clara couldn’t believe her good fortune that Gattenger chose her. I wish to God he hadn’t,” Sir Henry said with feeling.

Blackford walked over to us, glaring Sir Henry and me farther apart in our chairs. “We’ll be in Cheltenham in fifteen minutes. Perhaps less.”

“Oh, that is good news,” Phyllida said with the most animation she’d shown all morning.

“We’ll have a few more miles to go by carriage to reach Lord Harwin’s estate.”

As it turned out, Lord Harwin sent only one carriage for us, so Phyllida rode with Lady Bennett and the baron on the first trip. The luggage and the servants followed in a large, open wagon. Emma gave me a half smile as she passed on her way to the wagon, following a porter with our trunks. Being Emma, she would manage to sit on the bench next to the driver while the rest of the servants had to sit on trunks in the back.

The weather was noticeably cooler on the street in front of the Cheltenham railway station than it had been in London, sunny but breezy. While I stood there with the duke, Lady Peters, and Sir Henry, I watched as another coach pulled up. Lady Ormond and a couple I didn’t know ignored us, and each other, as they climbed into the carriage, their faces stiff with suppressed anger. Their servants loaded the luggage into a pony cart that waited a short distance behind the first vehicle.

Looking past them to the opposite side of the street, I saw my parents’ killer. He was here in Cheltenham Spa.

My gasp might have caught my travel companions’ attention, but I didn’t glance their way. I darted out into the street between Tewes’s carriage and a wagon being loaded with crates of fruit off a freight train.

My quarry was almost within reach. I could see his long nose, his thin lips, his silver hair beneath his top hat as he walked along the sidewalk. He appeared unaware of the woman dashing across the wide street as he strode along, a newspaper folded under one arm.

There was a carriage coming toward me in one direction and a wagon carrying barrels lumbering along in the other. This was a busy road, but I’d had plenty of practice crossing busy roads in London. I had time to cross. I’d just hurried out into the middle of the street, glancing down to avoid horse manure, when a sound to my left caught my attention.

A small, chariotlike carriage driven by a young dandy raced around the slow carriage, its horses urged on by shouts and the snap of a whip. It was nearly on top of me. I tried to back up, but not fast enough.

I looked at my parents’ murderer. He’d noticed me now. His cruel, pale eyes widened in surprise as he stared at me.

An arm smashed against my waist and jerked me backward. Something struck my foot as the vehicle raced past.

I was nearly thrown onto the sidewalk. “What do you think you’re doing?” Blackford snarled, staring down at me.

I adjusted my hat, which had slipped over one eye. “You’ve ruined everything,” I snapped back at him. “Didn’t you see him?” I was trying to look past him and the vehicles in my way to view the opposite sidewalk.

“Who?”

“My parents’ killer.”

Blackford stopped and blinked, as shocked as if I’d just slapped him. He spun around and stared across the busy street. There was no one there. “I don’t see anyone.”

“He’s gone now. You ruined it.” I took one step forward and nearly landed on my face as my foot and ankle screamed fire.

By now, Sir Henry and Lady Peters had reached my side. “Are you all right?” Lady Peters asked.