Chapter 5
Five
“Iam surprised you did not buy that top hat, it would have been perfect for your latest persona,” Adele teased Rowen as they left the hat store together.
The street was full of people, and the Black Widows and Adele were jostled by the crowd. It had been over a fortnight since she had seen the Duke.
In that time, she had grown closer to her new friends and revelled in the easy comradery of their company. Their presence had helped soothe some of the pain of Eric’s passing.
He was my friend. I have to believe that he would want me to have such companionship. They had decided to go hat shopping together after Verity’s horror at the dowdy state of most of Adele’s wardrobe.
Though Verity had teased her, it had not felt barbed, especially when Adele had explained that the drab state of affairs was her parents’ doing rather than any choice of her own. With some cajoling from Cora and Rowen, she had set about procuring a more exciting wardrobe.
“Not so loud, or you will give the game away.” Rowen hissed, looking around them. “I have already had to swap personas twice.”
“And you are on your third as well,” Verity pointed out as she linked an arm through one of Adele’s. “It is a shame; I rather liked Sebastien Haverworth.”
“So did I.” Adele admitted. “He was a fun man to play.”
“I am sure the three of you will find other equally delightful personas.” Cora shook her head and leaned on her cane as they walked down the crowded street towards the carriage.
As they did, the hair on the back of Adele’s neck prickled, as though someone was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder and thought she saw a small mousy-haired man looking at her, but a moment later, he was lost in the crowd.
She was fairly certain she had seen the man before. Ever since her encounter with the Duke, she had noticed men following her. Or at least, she thought she had.
The Duke’s threat lingered in her mind, and at the memory of their last conversation her heart quickened. Absently she touched a hand to her neck, remembering the way his breath had tickled her skin. Spots of colour appeared on her cheeks.
“Oh, thank goodness, the phaeton! My feet are aching most terribly.” Cora’s words jerked Adele back to the present.
The coachman was nowhere to be seen, and it fell to Adele and Rowen to help Cora into the seat. The others clambered in after her, but Adele remained half in the Phaeton and half out. She glanced around, but the driver was nowhere to be found. Was that a flash of mousy hair?
“Shall we go to the tearooms next?” Adele asked as she looked up at the others. “Or perhaps a matinee at the theatre? Or a picnic in the park? Though if the coachman does not get here soon, we may not end up going anywhere.”
“I am sure he is around here somewhere.” Cora fanned herself. “We did finish rather earlier than we expected. And I will admit, I am in no hurry to experience the horrors of this death trap.”
“It is not that bad.” Verity patted the phaeton affectionately. “Besides, it is fast, and that is rather exciting.”
Cora harrumphed, and Adele found herself smiling. “It is all the more reason for us to take a break on the journey. It will give you a chance to recover from your ordeal.”
“If I did not know any better, I would say you are trying to avoid going home.” Rowen canted her head towards her, gently squeezing Adele’s hand with her own.
“I am.” Adele admitted. “It does not feel like it is mine. It feels like I am a guest.”
“It is an adjustment living on one’s own.” Verity nodded sagely. “And though Kidlington House is not the grandest of houses, it is not exactly small and cosy.”
“I still find myself lost more often than not, and I fear few houses would feel cosy when there is only me within the walls.” Adele did not say that she felt she should be used to such emptiness, especially as her parents had often left her at home with only servants for company.
Why let an unplanned, unwanted daughter spoil their fun?
“I just… I was not expecting my life to be so lonely.”
“You have us.” Verity gestured to the other women.
“I know that, but you all have your own homes to return to. Your own lives.” Adele sighed.
“And you have lived in your estates for years. You know them as intimately as your own hand. When I am at Kidlington House, I feel as though I am invisible. The servants are polite, of course, but they are distant. Cold. It feels like they judge me.”
“Let them judge you. It does not matter.” Rowen wrinkled her nose. “They cannot do anything to hurt you.”
“I know that, but it is not the most pleasant experience. It feels as though I am walking on eggshells constantly. Like everyone is simply waiting for me to slip up or like they blame me for how things have turned out.” Her thoughts turned to Martha and her baby.
She still had not managed to see the other woman; every time she suggested it, the servants became uneasy and put her off. Yet she could not bear to sit back and let her go without help, even if she didn’t know what that could even entail.
I can hardly run away to Paris now and come back with a child. Goodness only knows what the ton would say. And there was, of course, the fact that she did not want to leave while the investigation was under way.
“This is why I have my dogs. They are all together simpler than people.” Verity leaned back in her seat.
“You cannot avoid your home forever.” Cora gave her a knowing look. “I was much the same when my Henry passed. I know it is different, but it is clear that you cared for Lord Kidlington.”
“He was my friend. I have known him for years, and he was always kind to me. He did not deserve to have his life cut short.” Adele chewed on her bottom lip.
“Few men do.” Cora nodded.
“If you do not want to go home, we will not make you. Though I must be back at Irving before five — the children will be expecting me.” Rowen glanced at the pocket watch she kept on her person. “That gives us a few hours though. So long as the driver turns up soon, we should have plenty of time.”
Adele turned to look around the street once more and spotted the small mousy-haired man. Their eyes met, and she knew that she had been right earlier.
“That dratted man is following me.” She cursed and glanced around again. “Where is the driver?”
The mousy-haired man was moving towards a tethered horse nearby. Adele glanced up into the empty driver’s seat of the carriage and then clambered into it.
“What do you think you are doing?” Cora called to her.
“I am sick of waiting,” Adele shouted over her shoulder, and she flicked the reins, urging the horse into motion. “And I am sick to death of being followed.”
She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the mousey-haired man start to sprint towards his horse.
“Keep your eyes on the road!” Cora gripped the seat so hard that her knuckles were white.
“What do you mean you are sick of being followed?” Rowen’s voice was barely audible above the rush of wind.
“Do we really need to go so fast?” Verity glanced at Cora who had closed her eyes.
“Is there a mousy-haired man behind us? He will be on a grey horse.” Adele clicked the reins again, and the horse sped up.
“Yes.”
Adele let out a stream of curses that would have made a sailor blush.
Rowen yelled. “Why is he following us?”
“I think he is acting under orders.”
“Whose orders?” Rowen asked.
“I have my suspicions.” The carriage jostled, and Cora let out a moan. “I am going to try and lose him. It’s lucky we used the phaeton. He’ll be hard pressed to catch us.”
“He will not need to if we are all dead.” Cora’s face was a delicate shade of green.
“Adele is not going to kill us; where is your sense of adventure?” Verity’s voice was tinged with laughter.
“I believe I left it at the hat shop,” Cora grumbled.
“At least you still have your humour,” Verity replied.
“Hold on!” Adele jerked the reins; moving further from the busy main street, the phaeton tilted dangerously and everyone screamed as they hurtled around a corner.
The wheels touched ground again, and Adele ushered them through a weaving path. The horse galloped, but she dared not look over her shoulder, focusing on weaving this way and that.
She was sick of the Duke’s men dogging her footsteps.
If he wants to know what I am doing, he can jolly well do me the courtesy of visiting me in person. Adele drove the phaeton through the narrow country lanes, turning sharply here and there to shake off the Duke’s man.
“I think you have lost him,” Verity called after a while.
“I cannot see him anywhere. That last corner did the trick,” Rowen added. “You should pull over before Cora faints.”
A groan of ascent came from Cora, and Adele slowed the phaeton to a stop. As luck would have it, they were beside a tearoom. Panting, she turned to face her friends.
“Oh good, we are not dead.” Cora clutched her chest.
Adele, Verity, and Rowen descended into giggles as each of them adjusted their hats and windswept hair. She was just debating how she would clamber down from the driver’s seat in her dress when she realised her friends were all staring past her.
She whirled around as she heard the sound of hoofbeats, but it was not a grey horse that approached them, nor was its rider a mousy-haired man.
It was the Duke, riding towards them on top of a magnificent black stallion.
His cape billowed out behind him, his windswept hair ruffling with it as he held up a hand in greeting. To Adele’s surprise, he was smiling. The sight of it did something strange to her knees and made her breath catch in her chest. How does he do this to me?
“Good afternoon, ladies.” The Duke leapt from his horse as he approached them and doffed his cap as he swept into a low bow. “Are you in need of some assistance?”
“We are perfectly fine, thank you, Duke Scarfield.” Adele swallowed.
“Duke Scarfield? You are the cousin of Adele’s late husband, are you not?” Cora looked between Adele and the Duke.