by Adele Clee
“But he should have been honest with me.” Daphne wanted to be annoyed with Daniel, but his actions had nothing to do with control or needing to belittle her efforts. It had nothing to do with him thinking her incapable. She knew it was because he cared.
Mr Bostock met her gaze. “And if he’d have told you, what would you have done?”
“I have no idea.” She would have cursed him to the devil. Been more secretive. Varied her route in an attempt to lose his associate. “Well, I came in here to look at books not spend the morning discussing Mr Thorpe.” She leant closer. “The Gothic horrors are up those three stairs, hidden at the back. I only want to browse through the collection.” And read a few pages of any that took her fancy.
“Take a few minutes, and then we’d best be on our way.” Bostock folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll wait here.”
Daphne left him to stare out of the window. Perhaps he thought perusing books meant he had to buy one. After offering the shopkeeper a warm smile, Daphne climbed the small flight of stairs at the rear of the shop. Had she been alone, she would have sat at one of the tables and passed a few hours, her mind lost in the fanciful tales.
“Mrs Chambers.” The whispered words drifted past her ear. “Mrs Chambers.”
Daphne glanced at Mr Bostock who was still watching the people passing by the window.
“Mrs Chambers.”
Daphne looked back over her shoulder. The door leading out to the back yard was ajar. She walked over, was but an inch away when a woman grabbed her by the hand.
“Thank goodness you heard me.” The petite woman appeared highly agitated.
“Miss Lawson?” Daphne narrowed her gaze. Lily Lawson wore a pretty bonnet and fashionable pelisse. “I hardly recognised you. What on earth are you doing out here?”
“There’s no time to talk. We must leave now. Heavens. Please listen.”
The woman was rambling.
“I fear Mr Thorpe is in grave danger,” Lily added. “I should never have given you the list.”
“Thorpe? Does this have something to do with Lord Gibson?”
“Lord Gibson cannot be trusted.” She tugged Daphne by the arm. “Come. I have a hackney waiting. If we do not hurry, Mr Thorpe is sure to face the same fate as Thomas.”
All the air dissipated from Daphne’s lungs. “Then let me fetch Mr Bostock, Thorpe’s associate. He’s here with me and will know what to do.”
Daphne turned, but Lily refused to relinquish her grip.
“You will leave with me now, Mrs Chambers.” The click of metal drew Daphne’s gaze to the pistol pointed at her stomach. “Don’t test my patience. Besides, if I shoot you, how will you be able to rescue Mr Thorpe?”
Chapter 23
Daniel raced back to New Bond Street. Finding the front door of the shop locked, he rapped several times. Panic flared. Betsy had said nothing about going out. He waited and rapped again.
The shuffling of feet on the tiled floor in the hall beyond caught his attention. “It’s Mr Thorpe, Betsy,” he said when the footsteps stopped and he sensed the modiste’s hesitation.
“Good Lord,” Betsy cried as she peeked around the jamb. “Give a lady a chance to reach the door.” She ushered him inside. “You’ll bring the house down if you knock any louder.”
His thunderous bangs on the door mirrored the wild thud of his heart. Since discovering it was Lily’s name on the strip of paper, he’d been forced to acknowledge his error. Lily played the victim as well as any consummate actress gracing the stage. He should have followed her, gathered more information before tearing off to Witham on a fool’s errand.
“Do you normally close the shop during the daytime?” he snapped.
“No, but with all the commotion this week I’m behind on my work. I closed the shop so we could concentrate on Lady Balthrome’s trousseau.”
The sound of feminine voices carried through from the parlour. “Has Mrs Chambers returned?” He craned his neck and stared down the corridor.
“No, not yet. But George … Mr Bostock said they’re calling at the circulating library and knowing Daphne she’ll take hours to choose a book.”
“Is there someone here with you?” Suspicion formed the basis of all his thoughts now. Of course, there was every chance the message on the paper was a warning for Lily and not a means of naming her as the traitor. “I assumed you worked alone.”
“Alone?” Betsy gasped. “Heavens, no. I have a contact in Spitalfields who hires girls by the hour. But I only use the service when I have to.”
“I see.” Daphne had said nothing about having strangers on the premises. Along with means and motive, opportunity was a key factor necessary for a person to commit a crime. “And you’re happy to vouch for the women you have working with you today?” He would take a list of their names later once he’d spoken to Daphne.
Betsy appeared a little confused. “I’ve worked with them all numerous times if that’s what you’re asking.”
He wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Then I’ll trouble you no further. I’m sure Mrs Chambers won’t mind if I wait for her upstairs.”
“I’m sure Mrs Chambers won’t mind you anything.” Betsy gave a coy grin.
There was nothing he could say to that, and so he inclined his head and walked away. He supposed he could make an amusing comment about Bostock, but he had more important things on his mind.
The high-pitched voices drew his attention back to the parlour. This time they were loud enough for him to make out the odd string of words. The women were discussing which one of them would make tea, and it brought to mind his earlier thought that a seamstress had the freedom of the house.
“Just a question if I may, Betsy,” he said, turning back to the modiste. “Do you choose the girls you hire or are they sent to you?”
“Mr Buchanan decides who to send. If I find their skills are poor, I can request he not send them again. But I’ve only done that once before.”
“And are the girls you employ free to roam the house?”
Betsy frowned. “Oh, there’s usually too much to occupy them down here. We tend to work together in one room. Except when one of us nips to the kitchen to make tea.” Betsy pursed her lips. “Why, is something wrong?”
To search Daphne’s room thoroughly, the intruder would need more than the ten minutes it took to boil water.
“I’m simply trying to establish if one of your seamstresses could have entered Mrs Chambers’ room unnoticed.”
Betsy shook her head and scrunched her nose. “But why would they want to do that?”
“Just humour me.” Daniel sighed. “So you’re saying no one would have had time to explore the upper floor?”
“Well, no. When you pay by the hour, you tend to keep a close eye on what they’re doing. The only time I’ve ever let a girl into my private room was when one pricked her finger on a needle and fainted.”
He imagined such a mishap was a regular occurrence. “And this was when?”
Betsy shrugged. “A few weeks ago.”
“And did you leave her alone?”
“Yes, she slept for almost an hour. The rest of us had to work our fingers to the bone to make up for lost time.”
Daniel dragged his hand down his face. “Let me guess. Was this girl petite, with golden hair and an angelic face?”
“Why, yes.” A smile touched Betsy’s lips, and she nodded. “The other girls thought we were twins.”
Bloody hell!
In all his years as an enquiry agent, he’d never been duped to this degree. Lily had batted her eyelashes and offered a pretty pout all in the hope of throwing them off the scent. Daniel had to give the woman some credit. Even he’d been convinced by her protestations.
The sudden thud on the front door startled them both.
Betsy gasped. “Lord above. What is it with everyone today?”
“Open the damn door,” Bostock cried. “Quick.”
Betsy hurried over and had barely turned the k
ey in the lock when the door burst open.
Bostock stood before them, his eyes bulging as he struggled to catch his breath. Perspiration trickled from his brow.
Daniel looked beyond his friend’s shoulder, his heart ready to explode from his chest when he realised Bostock was alone.
“Where’s Daphne?” Daniel marched over and gripped Bostock’s arm. “Why isn’t she with you?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“You don’t know!” Daniel shook the man’s arm, desperate for an answer. “What the hell do you mean?”
“We were in the book shop. She wandered to the back shelves while I waited near the door.” Bostock scratched his head and mumbled to himself. “I’d have seen her if she’d left the shop.”
“Were you followed there?”
“No. Not that I noticed.” Bostock’s hands clenched into fists at his side. “I should have paid more attention. I should have stayed at her side. One minute she was there, the next she’d disappeared.”
“People do not simply disappear,” Daniel replied through clenched teeth.
Betsy moved to pat Bostock’s arm. “Think, George,” she said. While her eyes looked fearful, her voice was calm. “Did anyone speak to you? Did Daphne mention going anywhere else? Was there another exit that you failed to notice?”
Bostock shook his head. “No. There was a door leading to the back yard, but Mrs Chambers wouldn’t have left without telling me. I’d have heard raised voices if someone had tried to lead her astray.” Bostock turned to Daniel, his expression slack, his eyes dull. “I’ve let you down.”
Feeling a wave of compassion, Daniel gripped his friend’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Bostock. We have been chasing our tails for the last few days. Looking in all the wrong places.”
Indeed, he was just as much to blame. A man of his skill should have questioned Lily’s word, but his thoughts were not his own. Love, an intense craving, and a profound sense of longing had captured him mind and body. The only puzzle he was interested in solving related to his future with Daphne.
Daniel let out a weary sigh and then straightened his shoulders. “You’re to come with me to Wapping, Bostock.” Daphne would not have left the shop with a man; he was convinced of it. Which meant Lily had lured her away from Bostock. “We have a traitor to catch.”
“What about Captain Lewis?” Bostock asked. “We know nothing about his motives.”
“He’s not our man,” Daniel replied with some certainty. “The list of names were just a ruse to throw us off the scent.”
The sudden knock on the door sent a wave of relief surging through Daniel’s body. Betsy rolled her eyes, but Daniel rushed to the door and flung it open.
“Daphne.” The word died on his lips as he stared at the boy’s dirty face.
“Are you Thorpe?”
Daniel nodded. “I am.”
The boy thrust the note at him. “I’ve been told to give ya this.”
As soon as Daniel’s fingers gripped the paper, the boy ran off down the street. With a sense of trepidation, Daniel peeled back the folds and read the few lines written inside. Fear clutched him by the throat, the lack of air to his lungs making him dizzy.
“What is it?” Betsy hugged Bostock’s arm, and they both stepped forward. “Is it news of Daphne?”
“Yes.” Daniel took a moment to compose himself. He was no good to anyone if he let his emotions rule him. He needed the old Thorpe. The cold, detached gentleman who followed logic not his heart in cases such as these.
“Is she all right?” Betsy snivelled.
God, he hoped so. The world would feel the full wrath of the Devil if anything happened to her. “Lily Lawson is holding her at the docks. I’m to meet her there tonight at eight o’clock, in Lower Shadwell, south of the basin.” He whipped his watch from his pocket and checked the time. He had hours to prepare.
“What can we do to help?” Bostock asked solemnly.
“I’m to go alone. Should Lily catch sight of anyone else she will kill Daphne.”
Bostock squared his hunched shoulders. “But tell me you don’t intend to do as she says?”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. I need time to form a plan.”
Chapter 24
The shed was dark, the wooden floor dusty. The scent of rum hung in the air, sweet yet sickly. A scurrying sound from somewhere in the far right-hand corner near the mound of old sacks caught Daphne’s attention. She flexed her fingers though her hands were secured in front of her body by a pair of shackles, the words Newgate Prison stamped into the cold metal. The rope tied tightly around her ankles prevented her from pulling the knife from inside her boot, and so she could do nothing but sit and wait for Lily to return.
Lily Lawson had fooled them all. Poor Thomas. To discover his partner was a liar and cheat must have hurt him deeply. Yet he’d said nothing, given no indication of the stress he must have suffered as a result.
Daphne suppressed all feelings of guilt. Now was not the time to dwell on the past.
Lily had made no mention of her plans. Even so, her failure to provide food and water suggested Thomas wasn’t to be the only victim on Lily’s list. The fact that Daphne was still alive raised certain questions. Yet the answer always came back to the cryptic comment Lily made when she’d forced Daphne from the book shop.
If I shoot you, how will you be able to rescue Mr Thorpe?
What was her game? Was Thorpe her prisoner too? Is that why she’d left Daphne in the shed and not returned? Regardless of the mess they’d made of the case so far, Thorpe was too clever to fall for Lily’s tricks. Then again, the woman seemed comfortable playing a damsel in distress. And they had been so convinced of Lord Gibson’s guilt they’d been blind to Lily’s involvement.
Daphne closed her eyes.
The faint sound of lapping water reached her ears. But the absence of muffled voices or the rumble of a cart proved worrying. She listened for a while, was still wondering if anyone would find her in the musty old shed when the rattle of a key in the lock drew her gaze to the door.
The glow from the lantern held aloft illuminated the person’s face.
“Good evening, Mrs Chambers.” Lily came into the room, placed the lantern on the floor and pulled the pistol from the leather satchel slung over her shoulder beneath her cloak. “Thank heavens for safety catches.” She pointed the pistol at Daphne. “I trust you’ve not been too cold in here.”
“Have you come to kill me?” Daphne’s tone brimmed with contempt. She had no desire to partake in meaningless conversation.
“Kill you? Oh, I can’t kill you yet,” Lily said with a snort. Her once sweet voice was filled with bitterness and loathing. “You’re the bait.”
“Bait?” Daphne stared at Lily’s face. It had lost its angelic appeal. Now Daphne had glimpsed the rotten core inside, the rest proved equally unappetising.
“Surely you don’t imagine I could drag Mr Thorpe here for any other reason than to save you? With his lack of options, I’m hoping that logical brain of his will soon realise he has but two choices. Either I’ll persuade him to join me, or I’ll use you as bait to kill him.”
The words conjured a vision of Daniel lying lifeless in the water.
“There is no need for any of this,” Daphne pleaded. She wasn’t afraid to beg if necessary. She’d sell her soul to save Daniel’s life. “Despite what Thomas told you, he had no evidence you were the traitor. We’ve searched high and low and found nothing.”
“Thomas was too clever to make idle threats. He’d been monitoring my movements for weeks, knew I was selling information to the French and lying to the Crown.” There was a hint of admiration in Lily’s tone when she spoke of Thomas. “I offered him many incentives to join me.” From the seductive lilt in Lily’s voice, the woman had used her charms to tempt him. “The man was loyal to a fault which was to his detriment in the end.”
A sudden wave of sadness swept through Daphne, the emotion pooling at the b
ase of her throat. Pride swelled in her chest for her husband, her friend. Thomas was a good man who deserved so much more. Despite Lily’s devious plots, he had remained faithful to his wife, and to the Crown.
Daphne shuffled on the cold, hard floor. “Did you care about Thomas at all?”
Lily took a step closer, bent down and stared into Daphne’s eyes. “Care about him? I loved him. Despite the fact he didn’t love you, he refused to love me in return.”
Perhaps Lily expected the comment to shock. But regardless of the other problems Daphne had in her marriage, they’d always been honest.
“We loved each other,” Daphne corrected. Thomas had been her dearest friend. “Only not in the way a husband and wife should.” Not in the way she loved Daniel.
“We shared a kiss once,” Lily boasted. “I knew then I had to have him and tried to persuade him to assist with my plan.” With an ugly look of disdain, Lily’s gaze travelled the length of Daphne’s body. “But you always seemed to get in the way.”
“A woman does not kill the man she loves,” Daphne countered.
Lily jumped to her feet. “Do you think I wanted to see Thomas dead? I added a tincture to his ale, something said to loosen the tongue and banish inhibitions.” She waved her pistol about mindlessly as she told her tale. “We walked along the wharf while he attempted to reason with me. Traitors hang, I told him, while I waited for his mood to mellow.”
To hear of Thomas’ final moments caused a host of horrifying images to flood Daphne’s mind.
“And then you killed him because, in spite of your efforts to corrupt him, Thomas remained true to his cause.”
Lily shrugged. “We argued. I pushed him, tried to grab his waistcoat when he tumbled back into the river but caught hold of his watch instead. The effects of the tincture took hold, and the cold water froze his muscles. I was forced to stand there and watch him drown.”
Daphne’s throat grew so tight she could barely breathe. Tears welled in her eyes. “You could have called for help. You could have saved him if you’d wanted to.”