Chapter 11
Emmeline dragged Michael and Colin through the bustling market, her head turning from side to side, searching the crowd for the laundry maid that Rebecca had introduced her to. She stopped at the flower vendor where Rebecca had arranged for Emmeline’s bouquet.
“Do you know the laundress Martha…” Try as she might, Emmeline could not remember the maid’s surname. “…Gold something?”
The flower vendor shook her head. “I am sorry, my lady. I do not.”
Emmeline nodded her head in understanding. Sighing, she turned around and around, studying the faces at the nearby stalls. “Where are you, Martha?”
“So that I understand what we are doing,” Michael asked from beside her, “we are looking for a laundry maid named Martha, whose surname you do not remember, in one of the most crowded markets in all of London, because Rebecca stopped and talked to her once?”
“We are,” Emmeline agreed. She knew that she sounded unhinged to anyone who did not know the way that her mind worked, but Michael was not one of those people.
“Her last name had something to do with gold. I remember thinking that it was an odd surname for a laundry maid, but I cannot remember the name in its entirety.”
“What was odd about it?” Colin asked, joining them.
Emmeline shook her head. “It was a surname one would think to find among a family of jewelers and goldsmiths, not a laundress.”
“Hmm,” Michael hummed in thought. “Some families do not retain their hereditary occupations, but keep the surname associated with it for generations. It could be that one of her ancestors was a goldsmith.”
Emmeline nodded in understanding. “Unfortunately, that knowledge does not seem to be helping us to find her.”
“Goldsmethe, Goldsmithe…” Colin offered in an attempt to help as he began rattling off surnames historically associated with the gold trade.
“Gouldsmith!” Emmeline cried out triumphantly as the name slid back into her mind like a key clicking in a lock. “Martha Gouldsmith is who we are looking for.”
Nodding, Michael and Colin began asking the nearby vendors if they knew of a Martha Gouldsmith who worked as a laundress.
While they tried to be discreet and not draw undue attention to themselves, it was inevitable that a trio of noble persons asking questions of the common folk would draw attention.
The more questions that they asked, the more people began to behave with suspicion and distrust. After asking nearly every vendor in the market, the three of them stood discouraged near the edge of the street.
“I am not entirely certain that they are all telling the truth,” Emmeline stated, her frustration rising with each rejection.
“I am certain that they are not,” Michael confirmed. “They had decidedly closed ranks to protect one of their own.”
“We mean the lass no harm.” Colin sighed, just as frustrated as Emmeline.
“We know that, but they do not,” Michael pointed out. “They are not simply going to take our word for it. They do not trust anyone above their station asking about one of their own.”
He turned sympathetic eyes toward Emmeline. “I know that you were hoping to find something here.”
“I am not ready to surrender to defeat,” Emmeline replied stubbornly. “There has to be someone here who will speak with us.”
“Michael,” Colin interrupted, a note of warning in his voice. “The man you noticed watching us earlier…”
“What man?” Emmeline asked, not having been told anything about it.
“The man walking toward us,” Michael answered, moving to place his body in front of Emmeline’s to shield her from danger.
Emmeline was not certain whether to be touched by his protection or irritated by it. “Who is he?” she asked, trying to peer around him. The man looked around furtively as if to make certain that no one was watching them. “He looks as if he is displeased.”
“He appears to be a coachman,” Colin answered, coming to flank Emmeline’s other side. “Perhaps he did not appreciate our inquiries.”
Sighing at the level of chivalry being exhibited on her behalf, Emmeline gave up attempting to see around the men and awaited whatever was about to come. “You were asking about Martha Gouldsmith,” a deep voice resonated low enough for only their ears.
“We are,” Michael replied, placing emphasis on the present tense, leaving no doubt that they intended to continue their search. “Do you know of her?”
“I do,” the coachman admitted, his voice hesitant.
Emmeline’s heart thumped faster in her chest at hearing his confession. Impatient with her protectors blocking her path, she decided to bypass them entirely and marched around them to the other side, surprising the man when she appeared beside him seemingly from nowhere.
“Any information that you could share with us about the laundress would be of help. The matter is most urgent,” she informed him, her tone earnest. “My sister’s very life might depend upon it.”
“I cannot speak of the matter here. There are too many eyes and ears in the market who already know that you are looking for Martha. Meet me at the ball that is scheduled for a few days hence. I will wait for you at my carriage. No one will take note of us there as I am slated to drive for a family in attendance.”
“That is too long,” Emmeline argued. “If you know anything about Martha at all, please share it with us now.”
The coachman shook his head. “I will help you, but I will not risk my life and livelihood to do so. I will meet you at the ball or not at all.”
Left with no other recourse, the three of them were forced to agree, but not without warning.
“If you fail to attend the ball, I will personally use all of the resources at my considerable disposal to find you, and you will regret it,” Michael warned.
“I believe you.” The man nodded in understanding. “I will be there. You have my word.” With those parting words, he turned and disappeared into the crowded market.
“Well, that was an interesting exchange,” Colin grumbled, shaking his head. “What is he so terrified of that he could not simply tell us what he knows now? Why wait days before telling us?”
Michael shook his head. “I do not know, but for a man of that size and strength to be frightened, it tells me that whoever is behind this is a dangerous fellow.”
“That is, if this Martha person knows anything at all about who took Rebecca,” Colin noted in a disgruntled tone. His fear for Rebecca’s safety was taking a heavy toll on his patience.
“It is the only clue that we have,” Emmeline reminded him. “Without it, we have no other notion as to where to begin.”
Colin nodded in concession. “I wish it were not so.”
“As do I,” Emmeline murmured, squeezing his arm gently in compassion. “As do I.” Turning toward their own carriage, Emmeline’s foot caught on a loose cobblestone, tripping her.
“Ah,” she cried out in surprise as she began to fall toward the hard stone-paved road. Within a single frightened heartbeat, Michael was there, pulling her up and away from danger into his strong arms. Emmeline grasped the fabric of his jacket, feeling the hardened muscles beneath.
“Are you hurt?” Michael’s rich rumbling voice asked from above her, and she looked up to find his beautiful hazel eyes looking down at her with the same tender care that he had shown her the day she had fallen from her horse.
“No,” she breathed, unable to look away. “I am not harmed.”
“Good.” He nodded in relief as he set her back on her feet, then took a step back. “I am glad that I was near enough to catch you before any damage was done.”
“Yes, thank you.” Emmeline snapped her attention back to the reality of their situation.
Michael nodded in acceptance of her gratitude. “Sometimes it is best to accept help when it is needed, do you not agree?” he teased her, his good humor returning, if only briefly.
Emmeline frowned, shaking her head at him. She was embarrassed by her reaction to his closeness and his seemingly having been unaffected by it.
“A true gentleman would not boast of his deeds or goad a lady into an argument!” she snapped, unable to keep her emotions from her voice.
Michael looked at her as if confused by her sudden change in attitude.
“It was not my intention to offend. It was simply my attempt at levity. I know that you are in great distress and wished to ease the heaviness of the day. A jest on your character is perhaps in poor taste at this time. You have my sincerest apologies.”
“You know nothing of my character,” Emmeline quipped, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from behind her lashes.
She turned away, straightening her dress and hat as she fought to get her emotions under control. It had been a long time since she had been held in a man’s arms with any kind of tenderness. The fact that it had been Michael’s arms only added fuel to the flames.
Colin cleared his throat in an attempt to break the tension between them. “Yes, well, shall we discuss our plan for our coming liaison with the mysterious coachman?”
“Mysterious indeed,” Michael agreed. “The man did not even have the courtesy to provide us with his name.”
“I would not have done so either if you had threatened me that way,” Emmeline noted, as she turned back around to face him, having finally collected herself. “Did you mean what you said?”
Michael shrugged. “I simply wished to make it clear that he would be held to his word.”
“How did you intend to find him without a name? We cannot even find a simple laundry maid, and we have her name,” Emmeline asked doubtfully.
“A man of that size and stature does not blend into a crowd. He stands out. People remember when giants walk among them,” Michael retorted.
“Versus a whisp of a girl.” Emmeline sighed, knowing that he was right.
“Just so.” Michael nodded. His eyes held an apologetic light that caused Emmeline’s heart to squeeze in her chest. Unable to bear his gaze, Emmeline turned and attempted once more to make her way toward their carriage.
Once they were all tucked safely inside, the coachman instructed the horses to move forward. Colin and Michael sat across from Emmeline, their bodies moving in rhythm with the carriage wheels as they bumped over the cobblestone streets.
Michael studied her from across the conveyance, his eyes giving nothing of his thoughts away. The tension between them practically crackled in the confined space.
“Colin, you spoke of a plan,” Emmeline broke the silence.
Colin nodded. “We do not know who this man is, nor can we risk Rebecca’s safety by forcing him to tell us anything against his will if this Martha Gouldsmith is indeed involved in her disappearance.”
Emmeline nodded for him to continue.
“I would just as soon beat the answers out of him myself at this point,” he admitted. The desperation that he felt to find the woman he loved emanated from his eyes in a most heart-wrenching way.
“I understand the desire,” Emmeline admitted, just as desperate as he was to find her sister.
Michael’s brows rose in an expression that Emmeline could not quite interpret. “I do not believe that violence will solve our present conundrum.”
“Perhaps not, but punching something or someone would most certainly make me feel better,” Colin admitted.
“That being said, we cannot go into an unknown situation such as this without a way to follow through with it. The coachman was quite concerned with being overheard by someone within the market. If this Martha has gotten herself involved with the criminal underbelly of London, then we could be putting ourselves in danger. While I would gladly die if it meant that Rebecca would be returned safely, I will not place her beloved sister in jeopardy. Rebecca would never forgive me.”
Emmeline sighed. “If they had wanted to take me, they would have. I was right there in front of her. I am not in danger.”
“You do not know that for certain,” Michael argued. “It would have been more difficult to take you where you were sitting than it was to take Rebecca. Someone would have seen something if they had attempted to take two women at the same time.”
“Someone should have seen them taking Rebecca!” Emmeline’s distress was mounting with each moment. “I am not about to allow either of you to tell me what I can and cannot do. Neither of you is my father, brother, husband, or guardian.”
Emmeline knew that her words stung Michael from the angry look that entered his eyes, but she did not care. “I will make my own decisions, and both of you will simply have to live with it.”
“I only wish to protect you because I care,” Colin explained, “but I understand your need to be a part of this. She is your sister. Please promise me that you will not allow yourself to come to harm for her sake.”
Emmeline’s temper softened. “I promise to do my utmost.”
“That will have to suffice.” Colin nodded in acceptance. “I do ask that you allow Michael and I to approach the coachman first to ascertain whether there is foul play afoot.”
“That is reasonable,” Emmeline conceded.
“Thank you.” Colin nodded in respect. “Michael …” He turned his attention toward his cousin. “How do you wish to proceed?”
The rest of the carriage ride to the Frampton townhouse was filled with plans as to how to extract the most information from their source, how to follow him afterward so as not to be noticed if necessary, and how to proceed with their planned meeting without their absence from the ball being noticed.
“You cannot be outside alone with two men that are not your family, unchaperoned,” Michael pointed out.
“I will think upon a solution,” Emmeline reassured him as the carriage came to a halt in front of her family’s townhouse.
Michael descended from the carriage and reached in to offer Emmeline his hand as she stepped out onto the street. Lightning heat passed between them with such ferocity that it temporarily robbed Emmeline of breath.
She looked up into his hazel eyes, and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw the old Michael staring back at her, the one who had loved her. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and Emmeline entered her house, wondering if she had actually seen anything at all.