February 14, 1889 Early Morning
The two other women, who they learned were named Lucille and Elvina, stood guard outside the archway. Mira, Byron, and Sibyl sat on stacked stones or on top of the closed folding cases. The baby had calmed, and Sibyl rocked him slowly.
“The man you know as Mr. Treadway was my husband,” she said, voice cracking.
“His name was Enoch Hand. When I first married him, I didn’t know he was a thief.
I found out when he was arrested for stealing at the market in London.
While he was in prison, I needed a way to pay the bills.
” She swallowed. “No one would hire me. But I met someone who worked with a gang in the city.”
“The Forty Elephants?” Byron asked.
Sibyl nodded, looking away. “I was only going to do it until Enoch was released. But when he got out he just went back to stealing again. He’s been in and out of prison for over five years.
The last time he was arrested was in July.
Before we even knew about this one.” She shifted the baby in her arms.
“While he was in prison, he met some men who worked with Circe. Prison guards, if you can believe it. They offered him a lot of money and an early release if he would help them and he agreed. They released him in August, six months early. He began working for Circe in London, but after a few months they ordered us to move out here, to create our own gang of thieves, and steal from the wealthy socialites. We could sell anything we liked and keep the money, as long as we continued to steal. A man from the Crescent would come by every week, they said to help, but he was more like a watchdog, making sure we followed orders. It soon became clear that there was more to the plan than just simple burglary, but I didn’t know the details at first.”
Byron finished jotting down a note. “When did your husband take on the role of Silas Treadway?”
“A few months ago.”
“Do you know why?” Mira asked.
Sibyl gave a short nod. “A-a man who Enoch used to know came to Bath. He had been a part of Circe for years. He recognized Enoch, found out he had started working for Circe and well . . . he decided he wanted a cut. He came to one of the meetings at our house and spoke with the man from the Crescent. Together, the three of them came up with a plan to send Enoch into the center of society here. De—the man Enoch used to work with, it was his idea to use false papers. Apparently Treadway had died in a war somewhere, and no one would know. Enoch became Silas and it gave him more freedom to move as he needed, to meet wealthy people, be in their homes. A month or so later, they decided he needed more help, so they brought on another man to act on the inside too.”
“Do you have names for any of these men?”
Sibyl averted her eyes. “I don’t know the name of the man from the Crescent.
And I’ve never met the man they brought in to help Enoch.
And the other, who Enoch knew before, was part of the first gang my husband was in.
He—” She broke off. “I don’t think I should tell you.
He’ll find out, one way or another. He’ll tell the Crescent.
And I-I just can’t risk that.” She pulled her baby closer to her.
“You don’t have to tell us,” Mira said, reaching out and putting a hand on Sibyl’s arm. “You are brave to tell us anything.”
Sibyl softened. “I’ve probably said too much already. But . . .” Her eyes darted to the door.
“Go on and tell them,” Elvina said. “If they can help . . .”
Sibyl took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you this: I know what they’re after. It isn’t about the jewels at all. They are looking for political documents.”
“How do you know?” Mira asked, eyes wide.
“They hold meetings at my house. I’m sent upstairs so I don’t overhear or see anything, but the fireplace goes through both floors. I can hear through the chimney.”
“Do you know what sort of documents they are?” Byron asked.
Sibyl lowered her voice. “It has something to do with the Treaty of San Stefano. The one signed in 1878. I think it has something to do with the Ottoman Empire.”
Byron nodded. “It marked the end of the Russo-Turkish War.” He tapped his pen on his cheek. “Why would Circe be concerned with that, I wonder?”
“They mentioned something about a new war and how these documents could stop it,” Sibyl said. “They’ve been searching for them for over ten years and are starting to get desperate.”
Mira frowned. “How have they not found them yet?”
“They sent in a package to some woman here in Britain. I don’t remember the name, but apparently it was sent to the wrong address or something. I remember distinctly that—”
The baby started fussing and Sibyl broke off mid-sentence to calm him. After a bit of shushing and some more rocking, she said, “Where was I?”
“The package was sent to the wrong address,” Mira said.
“Oh yes. In one of the recent meetings, my husband asked if they hadn’t got the wrong person again, but the man from the Crescent assured him that they had it right this time.
It’s taken them all this time to track the package to that woman and then to learn where it was sent after that.
They still haven’t found where the documents are hidden. ”
“And they are using the burglaries to cover up their attempts at searching,” Byron said, starting a new page in his journal.
“So who has the documents now?” Mira asked.
“I don’t know,” Sibyl said. “I wish I could tell you more, but Enoch kept most of it a secret from me. And I can’t risk him finding out that I told you anything.”
“You’ve told us more than we could have hoped,” Byron said.
Mira nodded. “I am so sorry for your loss. It must be terrible, especially now that you are looking after the baby all alone.”
Sibyl gave a halfhearted laugh. “It feels as though Enoch was never around from the start. First with being in prison all those months and then out playing suitor to other women. I gave birth two weeks ago, and he never came back to see the baby. I know that Elvina told him about it when she went up to the manor to take jewels from him last week.” She sniffed, looking down at her little one.
“His son. And now he’s dead and I’ve had to rush back into all this.
” She gestured vaguely to the chamber and shook her head.
“I don’t need anything else from that man. He’s already put us in enough trouble.”
Mira’s mouth fell open. “You only gave birth two weeks ago?”
“Two weeks tomorrow,” Sibyl said, standing straighter. “But don’t you worry about us. We’re used to taking care of ourselves.”
“You don’t have to.” Byron tore a small piece of paper from his journal and wrote something on it. “I’ll ask you again, do you want to leave Circe?”
She swallowed, looking up at the two women. “It isn’t safe to. He—they’ll find us, bring us back.”
Byron passed the slip over to her. “Just the same, if you want help, don’t hesitate to visit this address. You can have a new life.”
Sibyl took the slip and tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll think about it. But I don’t need charity.”
Byron nodded and stood, helping Mira up as well. “Thank you again for your help.”
They went to leave, but Byron stopped once more on the threshold of the room. “I forgot to ask. Might I take a look at your wares? I’m quite prepared to pay for a few of them.”
Sibyl smiled. “Certainly.”
***
It was well after one in the morning by the time they caught a carriage back to Davenguard. The Sherard family jewels were tucked safely in Byron’s jacket pocket.
“I knew that the thefts had to be more than just burglary if Circe was involved,” Mira said, yawning. “These documents must be quite extraordinary if they are still looking for them after almost eleven years.”
“It will be interesting to see what they contain,” Byron said. “But first we’ll need to find them.”
“Right.” She sat up straighter. “I’ve been thinking about that. What if Enoch wasn’t courting Theresia at random? Her father works with Sir William Arthur White, the ambassador to the Ottoman Empire. If someone were sending documents about that treaty to anyone, wouldn’t they send them to him?”
Byron hummed. “I didn’t realize the connection.”
“Theresia mentioned it in the stable. Her family was meant to attend Sutherland’s party back in October but had a previous engagement.”
“I see.” Byron drummed his fingers on his leg. “We’ll need to find an excuse to visit Wynmar again.”
Mira laughed a little. “You’ve forgotten. They are having a party on Valentine’s Day. Perhaps I can arrange with Theresia for us to come visit again at a better time to talk with Mr. Risewell. So, we only need to wait a few days.”
“Valentine’s Day is today, love.”
Mira blinked. “Is it really?”
He laughed and reached into his pocket. “If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have brought this with me, presuming we might be out all night.” He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her.
Mira opened it and pulled out a little heart-shaped card with a rose printed on it. She smiled as she read Byron's swirling hand: A rose for my Rose.
Her heart warmed. “I’m surprised you didn’t forget,” she said. “I certainly did.”
His eyes twinkled. “I try not to forget important things.”
“I’ll have to make it up to you,” she said as the carriage slowed to a stop.
“You’ll be all right getting in?” he asked.
“I have a key to the library door,” she said. “You don’t think you’ll have any trouble with your family?”
Byron shook his head. “My mother sleeps soundly and Mary’s room is at the front of the house. I’ll slip in through the garden.”
She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, my dear Mr. Constantine.”
“Goodnight, my Mira.”
She slipped out of the carriage and dashed across the lawn, wanting to get in bed as soon as possible, cheeks warm despite the chill of the night.