Chapter 18
Michael and Colin felt as if they had been to every poverty-stricken street in London.
They had visited every place on the coachman’s list and followed every lead that had resulted from those places.
They had tried their best not to draw attention to themselves, but their clothing and straight-shouldered carriage were enough to make them stand out.
No amount of discretion was going to completely hide who they were and what they were looking for. It seemed that one could not question anyone within the neighborhoods that Martha had frequented without having suspicion and recalcitrance as a response.
As they walked down the last street, they passed a sign that proclaimed seamstress and laundress services were provided within.
Michael looked at the last address on the list. “This is the place,” he informed Colin, pausing in front of the door.
Colin nodded, and they pushed through the door, a bell ringing overhead as they entered, announcing their arrival.
A woman with a kerchief over her hair looked up from a seat by the window. “How might I be of service to you two gentlemen?” she asked, rising from her chair.
“We are looking for Martha Gouldsmith. We have it on good authority that you are acquainted with said young woman,” Michael wasted no time in asking. He and Colin were tired, discouraged, and frustrated. It had been a long day, and his patience was wearing thin.
“Who is asking?” the woman challenged back, holding the needle in her hand as if it were a dagger to defend herself.
Michael would have found the ridiculousness of the moment to be amusing had it not been so serious. “The Earl of Ravenshollow,” his voice carried the authority of his title and station.
The woman’s eyes widened. “My lord,” she bobbed a curtsy, then stared at him in bafflement. “What would an earl such as yourself want with Martha?”
“We are looking for a friend of ours who was also a friend of Martha. She has gone missing, and we wish to bring her home to her family safely,” Michael explained.
“What friend?” Something warred behind her eyes that Michael could not quite interpret.
“Miss Rebecca Frampton,” Colin replied, the love that he felt for Rebecca clearly written upon his face.
“Miss Rebecca?” The seamstress deflated, all suspicion leaving her eyes as tears filled them instead.
“You know of her?” Colin asked, taking a step forward in anticipation.
“I do not know where Martha is. I have been worrying myself sick over her. She has disappeared, and I have not seen her for days.” She gestured toward a large pile of laundry in the corner.
“She has not missed a day of work once since setting up shop with me, and yet her customers have not heard from her either.”
“When was the last time that you heard from her?” Michael asked, eyeing the mountain of laundry as if it might hold a clue, but finding none, he turned his gaze back toward the woman.
“She came to the shop and told me that she was going to attend a concert at the Vauxhall Gardens. That was days ago, and I have heard nothing from her since.” Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks as she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her nose.
“Vauxhall Gardens?” Colin nearly leaped upon the woman, his body was so wound with tension at the mention of the place where Rebecca had vanished.
The woman nodded, fear in her eyes as she took a step back from Colin’s intensity.
“Have you alerted the local magistrate?” Michael asked as calmly as he could manage, laying a gentle hand on Colin’s shoulder.
The woman shook her head. “I was afraid to.”
“Afraid? Afraid of what?” Michael demanded to know his own suspicions growing.
“Before Martha disappeared, she had been acting strangely for months. I finally cornered her and demanded that she tell me what was wrong. She said that she had been working for a new employer in exchange for help with her family’s needs.
She said that he was an important and violent man.
She told me that I could not tell anyone about it. ”
“Who was this man?” Michael could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rising in trepidation.
“She only knew him as Mr. G. She never gave me any other names.”
“How long ago did she begin working for Mr. G?”
“Six months ago,” the woman answered.
Michael tightened his grip on Colin’s shoulder. “Is this Mr. G a man of criminal means?”
The woman nodded her head. “I was afraid that if I went to the magistrate about Martha that Mr. G would kill me. Martha said that he had people in high places protecting him and that if I spoke to anyone about what she had told me that he would have me killed.”
She looked over her shoulder as if she were afraid that the man would walk right through the back door and drive a dagger through her heart. “I am in danger just speaking with the two of you, but I am so very scared for Martha and what she may have gotten herself into.”
Michael gritted his teeth. If a man was willing to kill a woman for even saying his name, would he think twice about killing Rebecca if she became too much of a complication for him?
“Did Miss Rebecca ever meet with this man when she was with Martha?”
The seamstress shook her head. “I do not know, but not that I am aware of. I cannot imagine that Martha would have introduced a lady such as Miss Rebecca to a criminal like that.”
“And yet, they both disappeared the night of the Vauxhall Garden concert,” Michael replied, his voice as cold as stone as a chill rippled down his spine.
The seamstress’s eyes widened, her pulse fluttering frantically beneath the skin of her neck. “You do not think…” Her voice caught in her throat, cutting off her words.
“I do,” Michael gave a sharp nod. “You need to tell me everything that you know about Martha Gouldsmith, Mr. G, and Miss Rebecca Frampton.”
The seamstress began speaking, words tumbling over each other, telling them of Martha’s family, how she came to work with the seamstress, and then Mr. G.
As she spoke, Michael could not help but notice that Martha’s story was one of sacrifice for the sake of her family, just as his own mother had pointed out to him about Emmeline. When she had concluded her tale, Michael looked the woman dead in the eyes. “Where can I find Mr. G?”
“You do not wish to go there,” the seamstress shook her head vehemently. “It is too dangerous. The likes of you, rich and titled as you are, will not survive, my lord. The men there are all criminals who will beat you to death and take all that you possess.”
“Where?” Michael repeated, his voice firm, steady, and leaving no room for refusal.
Fear caused the woman’s lower lip to tremble. “I will not be held responsible for what becomes of you. I wash my hands of the both of you.”
“Understood,” Michael reassured her. “Now tell me. Where is Mr. G?”
“He runs his criminal empire through the Green Dragon Tavern, but no one can know that I told you,” she warned.
“You have my word that your name will not be spoken.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, her body sagging in weariness from the exchange. “Please bring Martha and Miss Rebecca home safely.”
Michael nodded. “I will do all in my power to see it done, but I cannot promise that Martha will be free from the law,” he warned.
“I understand.” The seamstress nodded. “I just wish to know that she is still alive.”
Michael understood. “I will have word sent to you if I find her.”
“Thank you, my lord.” The woman came forward and kissed the signet ring on his hand as a commoner might have done in years past when petitioning a king. The action made him feel uneasy, but he brushed it off. He gave the woman a nod of gratitude for her help, then left the shop.
As he and Colin stepped out into the street, Colin gave Michael a side-eyed look. “What do you think? Is she telling the truth about Martha Gouldsmith acting under duress for the sake of her family?”
Michael nodded. “I do. Something she said echoed my own mother’s words as to Emmeline’s actions.”
“Oh?” Colin asked, his brows raising in curious surprise. “How so?”
“My mother informed me that Emmeline had wed the Marquess of Worthington under duress. Her family was going through a difficult time and arranged the entire affair without her knowing.
By the time she knew what was happening, it was too late for her to do anything about it.
Apparently, there were considerable financial matters at stake.
I do not know all of the details, and at the time, I did not feel that it was enough of an explanation, but listening to the seamstress describe Martha’s circumstances gave me a different perspective on the choice that Emmeline made. ”
Colin looked at Michael, impressed. “That is a significant change of thought.”
“It is.” Michael nodded in agreement. “I am beginning to see the courage and strength that such an action would have required.”
The two men turned down the street, heading toward the Green Dragon Tavern.
The sound of footsteps echoing off the cobblestones behind them caused Michael to have an uneasy feeling in the base of his spine.
Turning his head as if to say something to Colin, he used the corner of his eye to take a quick glance at who was there.
To his dismay, he found two very rough-looking men following behind them. Testing his theory that the men were there for them, Michael took a turn down another street, Colin following along with him by instinct. As Michael suspected, the men followed after them.
Michael spoke low so that the men behind them would not hear him. “My dear cousin, I do believe that we have drawn unwanted attention to ourselves.”
Colin gave him a short nod in understanding. “What do you want to do about it?”
“Perhaps we should delay our visit to the tavern. We would not want to be responsible for the ill-fated demise of anyone who helped us in our inquiries.”
Colin nodded in agreement. “Home or the club then?”
“Let us dine at the club. I do not wish to lead these men home if they do not already know where that is. We can discuss what to do from there.”
“Agreed. How long have they been following us?”
“I do not know, but we cannot risk leading them to anyone that we care about.” Michael would have rather turned around and confronted them, but that did not seem wise given where they were.
“We are supposed to meet with Emmeline to inform her of our findings,” Colin reminded him.
“I will send word that we have been delayed. It is better to have another sleepless night than it is to have her placed in danger.”
The thought of anything happening to Emmeline made Michael’s heart thunder in his chest with trepidation and rage.
If anyone ever laid a hand on her, he would not be held responsible for his actions.
“Perhaps we should remain at the club until morning. If they follow us there and remain, we can have the magistrate send his runners to follow them in turn.”
Colin grinned with mischief. “Now that is a good plan.”