She paused only to draw breath. “If the priestess’s information is discounted—and that’s what will happen—then all we’ve succeeded in establishing as fact is that there are young women and children as well as men gone missing, and there’s no sign that any of them are dead. We have no further clue to point to where they might have gone or who might have taken them or even how they were taken—nothing to suggest a direction for any subsequent investigation. We can’t even prove they’re in danger, and that they don’t appear to be dead might very well reduce the urgency over finding them!”
Even though the observation supported her direction rather than his preference, he said, “As I understand it, the political pressure to deal with the situation here springs from the fear of the potential ramifications should this prove to be anything like the Black Cobra incident. Wolverstone knows that the only way to meet such a threat is with direct, decisive, and immediate action, however, too often in political circles, fear leads to dithering, and paralysis ensues. And Wolverstone is no longer in a position to simply ignore everyone else and issue orders. He was the one who called me in, but the actual order was Melville’s.”
“Exactly!” As if she couldn’t bear to be still any longer, she started pacing again. Then she halted and swung to face him. “That’s what I’m worried about—that we’ll race home with our news, and Melville and his ilk will just dither over it, finding it murky and difficult and not being able to decide what to do, and ultimately, by default, they won’t do anything. They won’t believe, they won’t understand, and most importantly, they won’t act.”
She captured his gaze; he saw the intensity of agitation in hers and realized there was more to her wish to push on than just a willful, adventurous bent. When she spoke, her tone held no plea; it did, however, hold a wealth of persuasion. “I know you were sent here to find out what happened to the four missing men, but it’s the young women and children who’ve disappeared who most concern me. It’s quite literally by the grace of God that I’m not standing in those young women’s shoes. If Julian hadn’t sacrificed himself for all of us, I might have been reduced to taking a governess or companion position out here. I might have been one of those taken.”
Understanding dawned. Loyalty and noblesse oblige; she possessed large reserves of both.
He considered her hypothesis and couldn’t argue; all she’d said was true.
She drew in a deep breath, then, her gaze steady on his face, said, “They—what might befall them—will haunt me if I don’t do the very best, the absolute most I can to have them found and freed and given their futures back.” Her eyes didn’t leave his as, her voice softer, she stated, “Our good fortune—our continuing to be blessed—only increases the onus on us.”
Noblesse oblige, most definitely, but more genuinely and far more deeply felt than the usual superficial nod to convention. She’d been born to the purple; the impulse to aid others and right society’s wrongs was inculcated in her bones.
He, too, knew the ties of a higher loyalty, of an unquestioned commitment to an ideal. Why else was he there? Why else did Wolverstone and Melville have the ability to call on his family and be sure they would answer the call?
She seemed to read his understanding in his silence. Her chin firmed, and she gave a little nod. “It’s up to us—those who can—to do all we possibly might to help those who cannot help themselves.” Her brow furrowing, she recommenced her pacing. “In this case, that means finding some testimony from a more…respected source than Lashoria to back up her claims before we flee.”
That last word emphasized the dilemma facing them. “Regardless, we do have to flee. Those men who attacked us—the ones who survived—will tell whoever sent them that they failed. I doubt whoever that is will wait to attack us again.” He paused, evaluating, then said, “I would expect another attack by dawn. We can’t stay here—” He broke off as Henry appeared in the doorway.
“Dinner’s served, Captain. Ma’am.”
“Thank you, Henry.” Declan rose and held out his hand to Edwina. “We almost certainly have until midnight, at least. Let’s eat and make plans.” When she readily placed her fingers in his, he turned to Henry. “Get the others—all of you bring your plates to the dining room. Dench and Billings will have told you of our rapid departure after seeing the priestess. We need to tell you what happened, and then we need to work out our next moves.”
Escorted to the dining room and served a tempting meal, Edwina was content to sit beside Declan and, while she ate, listen to him relate what they’d learned from the priestess. Whether it was a result of the excitement or because she was with child, she was ravenous.
Declan explained that they’d succeeded in getting a list of some of those missing, confirming that the number was much larger and the people more varied than those in London knew, and that courtesy of Sampson, they had enough to suspect that Obo Undoto’s services might be a common thread in some of the disappearances. By the time he’d detailed Lashoria’s claims that all those who’d vanished had attended Undoto’s services, that Undoto himself was involved, and that he was dealing with slave traders, but that such claims would not stand without better proof, Edwina had cleaned her plate and was ready with a suggestion.
“Even though we don’t have much time, we should try to find some way to substantiate Lashoria’s claims.” She pushed her plate away, leaned her elbows on the table, and propped her chin on her clasped hands.
All the men gave her their attention. Staring unseeing across the table, she went on, “Regardless of how much time we have, I doubt we’ll find anyone to verify Undoto meeting with the men who no one will name. But if we can find someone with standing to support the first part of Lashoria’s information—that all the adults who’ve gone missing attended Undoto’s services—that will make the second part of her information—that Undoto himself is involved and that he’s working with slave traders—difficult to dismiss. At the very least, those latter points would have to be investigated—Melville and his ilk could not let that lie.”
She looked at Declan, a question in her eyes.
After a moment of staring at her, clearly turning her words over in his mind, he nodded. “You’re right. After the brouhaha over the Black Cobra, if we can verify the link to Undoto via attendance at his services, then the suggestion he has a deeper involvement in what’s going on and a possible connection with slave traders becomes impossible—much too dangerous—to ignore.”
She nodded. “I’ve been wracking my brain to think of who we might get to confirm that those who’ve disappeared all attended Undoto’s services. I suspect Sampson could, but like Lashoria, his word is not going to carry sufficient weight—not on its own.” She met Declan’s gaze. “But others—others in the army and navy who will be believed—have verified that all four of our men attended Undoto’s services. What if we can find someone to verify that the four young women who’ve disappeared—those on Mrs. Hardwicke’s list—also all attended? I’ve confirmed with Mrs. Sherbrook that Katherine did, but have not as yet asked about the other three.”
Tapping a finger on the table, Declan frowned. “Eight out of eight is hard to argue away. That might be enough to shore up Lashoria’s credibility.” He paused, then refocused on Edwina’s eyes. “Given time is so short, who are you thinking of asking?”
“I had thought perhaps Mrs. Hitchcock, but like Mrs. Sherbrook, she will probably only know of one, and possibly not one of the four on our list, so that won’t necessarily help all that much. However, there is one person whose word would carry significant weight, who I understand has been attending all the services in recent months, and who would most likely know all the British women in the settlement by sight.” She held Declan’s gaze. “Lady Holbrook.”
Lips compressing, Declan shook his head. “We can’t trust Holbrook.”
“I wasn’t intending to. And I gather we’ll be away before he might learn of my visit from his wife.”
Declan shift
ed in his chair. Clearly reluctant, he asked, “What do you propose?”
“You want to leave here tonight—I assume you intend us to decamp to The Cormorant?”
He nodded. “As soon as we can. When we rise from this table, Billings can run down and alert those on board, hire a dray, and bring some of the others to help.” Declan’s gaze shifted to Billings, who tipped him a salute. “Meanwhile,” Declan went on, “the rest of us will pack everything we brought off the ship and be ready to load up as soon as Billings gets back with the dray.”
The others all murmured agreement.
Edwina nodded decisively. “That should fit nicely with what I believe I should do.”
She arranged the last details in her mind, then met Declan’s eyes. “When we’re ready to depart, while you and the others take our baggage to the ship, Dench can drive me to the governor’s house.” She glanced at the clock. “It’ll be late enough by then. I haven’t heard of any social gathering being held tonight, and I’m sure I would have heard if there was one. Which means Lady Holbrook should be at home to receive me.” She returned her gaze to Declan’s face. “I intend telling her that you’ve received word about some urgent business matter, and so we’re leaving in a rush, and as you’re overrun with preparations, I’ve come to make our farewells and to thank her and the governor for their hospitality.”
Declan regarded her silently for a full minute, then said, “I thought Lady Holbrook was in full support of her husband’s stance regarding the disappearances being nothing worth commenting on. How do you think to convince her ladyship to entertain the notion that the four young women’s disappearances are in some way connected with Undoto sufficiently for her to tell you whether they attended his services or not?”
“I don’t—meaning I don’t intend mentioning the disappearances at all. All I’ll ask is whether she knows if those four women attended Undoto’s services—that’s all I need her to confirm.” She paused, then added, “First, I’ll lead her to admit that she would know all the British women who’ve attended. Then she won’t be able to say that she simply doesn’t know.”
A long moment passed.
“I’ll come with you.” His face set, Declan straightened in his chair.
“You can’t.” When he frowned at her, she met his gaze. “Holbrook, remember? I can call and ask to see Lady Holbrook and almost certainly she’ll receive me alone. Even if Holbrook is there, he and I will exchange greetings and our news, and then he’ll leave me to his wife to entertain before I depart. But if you accompany me, Holbrook will attend us and stay with us—and if you’re in a rush, we won’t be able to dally, so you going off with him to leave me alone with her for long enough for my purpose is going to be difficult to engineer.”
Declan transparently did not like her plan. After a moment, he said in his captain’s voice, “We’ll pack everything up here, and Henry and the others from the ship can take all our baggage down to the docks on the dray and transfer everything across to The Cormorant. Meanwhile, you, Dench, Carruthers, Billings, and I will take the hired carriage and go to visit the Holbrooks. I’ll remain in the carriage—there’s no reason anyone will know I’m there. Billings will see you to the gate. You go in alone, see Lady Holbrook, extract whatever information you can from her, then you return to the carriage, and we’ll drive straight down to the docks and board The Cormorant.”
She envisioned that scenario in her mind. While she had no qualms about entering the governor’s house and speaking with such a genial matron as Lady Holbrook, there was no question that she would feel a lot safer on the drive there, and then on to the docks, with Declan sitting beside her. He would no doubt be wearing his sword; when they’d arrived at the house, he’d handed it to Henry to clean, but it was now sitting in its scabbard on the table in the front hall.
Until that evening, she’d never imagined Declan in a real battle. While in the narrow alley she hadn’t had much time to study his style, what she’d seen had been more than enough to reassure her that he knew how to wield that sword.
His presence in the carriage, waiting for her while she attempted one last roll of the dice before they quit the settlement, would bolster her confidence.
She smiled, met his gaze, and nodded. “That’s an excellent plan.”
He humphed, but inclined his head as if sealing a pact. Then he went over his orders with his men.
Content on many levels, when he rose and drew out her chair, she smiled happily up at him, then followed the others from the room and threw herself into their packing.
* * *
Two and a half hours later, still garbed in her blue carriage dress, Edwina alighted from their carriage in the street outside the governor’s temporary residence. After handing her down, Billings escorted her to the gate, where a bored soldier stood at ease.
In her most regal tones, she stated, “Lady Edwina Frobisher to see Lady Holbrook.”
The soldier snapped to attention, saluted, then swung open the gate.
Billings caught her eye, bobbed his head respectfully, then returned to the carriage.
As she walked up the garden path, Edwina heard the carriage rattle on, then halt again. Declan had told Dench to turn the carriage so it faced toward the harbor, ready for a swift departure.
She was smiling fondly as she climbed the steps to the front porch. Declan had been almost humming with a tension that had escalated with every yard they’d drawn closer to the Holbrooks’ bungalow. He hadn’t—so deeply hadn’t—liked letting her come in alone, but even with his instincts plainly riding him, he’d allowed her to step up and do her part.
He’d held back and hadn’t tried to prevent her from sharing his life despite the perceived danger—largely illusory though it clearly was.
When the Holbrooks’ butler opened the door and, recognizing her, obsequiously bowed her inside, she inwardly shook her head at Declan’s irrational fears that any danger could possibly befall her while there—inside the house of the governor of British West Africa.
The butler left her in the front hall for only the bare minute it took him to confer with his mistress, then as Edwina had hoped, he escorted her into the drawing room, where she found Lady Holbrook, sans husband and at her ease.
Lady Holbrook had been reading a novel, which she was in the process of stooping to set aside. She straightened and beamed at Edwina. “My dear Lady Edwina. This is a delightful surprise.”
Gliding forward, Edwina extended her hand graciously. “I had to come even though, sadly, it is only to bid you and your husband farewell.”
“Farewell?” They touched fingers, her ladyship curtsying appropriately, then Lady Holbrook waved Edwina to the sofa. “I hadn’t realized you would be departing so soon.”
She sat and waited until Lady Holbrook resumed her seat before saying, “I fear business has caught up with us, and Declan needs must be off—to be perfectly candid, I’m not even sure as to where.”
“We will be sorry to see you go. I know there are many here who will have wished to meet with you, but who will not now have that pleasure.”
“You are entirely too kind. As I’m sure you will understand, Declan is furiously busy getting the ship ready to sail—we had not thought to depart quite so soon. He has charged me to deliver his good wishes to Governor Holbrook and yourself, and we both wish to convey our thanks for the hospitality you’ve shown us.”
Lady Holbrook accepted the sentiments with a becoming smile and a gracious inclination of her head. “Again, it has been our pleasure to see you both here. If there’s anything we can do to assist you before you leave, please do ask.”
Edwina could barely believe her luck, to have the perfect opening handed her on a platter. She looked struck, then mused to herself, “Perhaps…” Then she came to herself and refocused on Lady Holbrook. “From our earlier conversations, I gathered that, courtesy of your position, you would most likely recognize all the female population to be found in the settlement—I refer to the British,
of course.”
Lady Holbrook’s expression remained easy and assured. “I take my position at my husband’s side quite seriously, so yes, I believe that would be so. Every month, we host a small reception to welcome newcomers to the town, of whatever station. Just a tea, so the lower orders are not overwhelmed. In general, all those invited—which is everyone—attend, so with very few exceptions I have, indeed, met all those here.”
“Excellent.” Edwina beamed her most ingenuous smile. “In that case, perhaps you might assist me in granting the favors—four, all similar—that certain ladies in London requested of me. Just before we left town, we attended a major ball, and Declan let fall that he was keen to stop in Freetown if time and the weather permitted. The ball was an utter crush, and of course, word got around. Four different ladies approached me and asked if I could make inquiries on their behalf. All had young women who were in some way connected with their families’ staffs who had taken positions here. The daughter of the head gardener, the niece of their butler, that sort of thing. Apparently, those in England have been keen for news of their young women, but sadly, the posts haven’t obliged, at least not recently.” She paused, then lightly frowned. “Now I’ve put it into words, that sounds a trifle odd, but I’m sure there’ll be perfectly normal excuses—too busy to write, rushed off their feet, and so on.”
Lady Holbrook shifted, her stays faintly creaking as she sat straighter. “And you may add to that list the occasional bag of mail lost at sea.”
Her expression unreadable, Lady Holbrook studied Edwina, and for the first time in their acquaintance, Edwina had no idea what was going on behind her ladyship’s gray eyes, behind the pleasant, soft-featured face.
Then Lady Holbrook smiled. “If you will tell me the names of the young women, I’ll see if I can dredge news of them from my memory. Sadly, these days, that might take a little time.” Lady Holbrook rose. “Allow me to offer you some refreshment—just a cordial I have made up. It’s especially refreshing in this heat.”
The Lady's Command (Adventurers Quartet #1) Page 20