Chapter 20 #2
“Not really,” Fletcher said. “Think of avengers as redressers or rectifiers. I once heard someone refer to these individuals as vigilantes. ’Tis a citizen who takes law enforcement into their own hands.
Not unlike what I do, except I get paid, I have a sign above my door, and the magistrate sends me cases that Mr. Feilding’s men need help solving.
Avengers tend to work outside the law and on their own. ”
“Hmm,” Charlotte murmured. “Are you suggesting that Juliet is correct and Knight Roamer is an honorable man helping to rid the city of crime?”
“I am,” Mr. Fletcher said. “At least that is what I believe at the present. He just happened to make the mistake of tying up Lord Stanley, thus angering the aristocracy. I suspect Stanley was up to no good and deserved every bit of it.”
“The avenger also kissed Lord Riley’s fiancée, further incurring his wrath.” Charlotte’s gaze clouded over. “I think ’tis so romantic.”
Mr. Fletcher scoffed.
“I seem to recall a masked scoundrel grabbing and kissing me once upon a time.” Charlotte rolled her shoulder coquettishly.
Mr. Fletcher’s lips twisted in a mischievous grin. “Ah, yes.”
The Fletchers reminded Juliet of Emily and Alexander, and she yearned for what these couples had—a deep connection that cut through superficialities. Respect. Understanding. Adoration. And crackling, invisible sparks. The remarkable part was that she might just have all of this with Eric Stone.
Juliet considered telling the pair that she had feelings for the pugilist, but what was the point?
He had nothing to do with her current predicament.
Her sentimental emotions needed to be set aside for now.
Finding and protecting Mister Brown Eyes took precedence.
Once he was safe, she could focus on her wonderful, sweet Eric.
“I know Knight Roamer is a good man,” Juliet reiterated.
“I may have an idea who he is,” Mr. Fletcher said. “If my hunch is correct, I believe he already left the city.”
Relief washed over Juliet. The instincts telling her to seek Hugh Fletcher’s assistance had been correct. “So, you think he’s safe?”
“I do. Wait…” Hugh huffed. “Unless he came back to the city at the same time as you.”
“Why would he do that?” Charlotte asked before Juliet had a chance to.
Hugh tapped his fingers on his desk, seeming to stare into Juliet’s soul. Did he think she was hiding something from him? If so, he was mistaken. She’d told him everything she knew about Knight Roamer and Lord Riley.
He halted the unsettling tapping to open his desk drawer. He withdrew a newspaper, slid it across the desk, and pointed at one of the articles. “The Daily Dispatch of London. Have a look.”
Juliet angled the paper so she could better read. Perhaps the long day had her befuddled because she read the short, albeit shocking article twice and was still confused.
“What does it say?” Charlotte asked.
Juliet looked to Mr. Fletcher for clarity or reassurance, or any reaction at all, because she was dumbfounded.
He took the article from her, cleared her throat and read it aloud.
“This reporter has it on good authority that Lord Riley, The Dowager Countess Riley, and Miss Juliet Coldpepper were set upon by footpads while leaving a production of Drury Lane. Lord Riley is said to have pushed his fiancée into the path of the thieves to save himself. Luckily, the people’s hero, Knight Roamer, came along, saving Miss Coldpepper and the Dowager Countess.
Nine days later, and the Authorities are still searching for the thieves.
AW”
Charlotte gasped. “Just like you said it happened, Juliet.”
Except whoever this reporter was, they had not mentioned the kiss. Why would they leave it out when the scandalous encounter was just the type of salacious gossip readers craved?
“Indeed,” Fletcher said. “I followed up on the article and AW’s source is credible.”
“Who is his source?” Charlotte asked, her eyes sparking.
Clamping his lips together, Mr. Fletcher shook his head.
Charlotte brushed her fingers over his shoulder. “I will get it out of you, husband.”
“Good luck, trying, wife.”
Juliet had no doubts that Charlotte could seduce the information from her husband; however, she needed to use other methods. She removed her reticule from her wrist and placed it on his desk.
“I do not require payment to look into the matter further,” Fletcher said. “As Charlotte said, you are practically family.”
This was for the best since Juliet still needed to find lodging, something she’d never done on her own.
Still, she’d managed to hire a coach, convince a man with a carriage to drive her to the city, and hire London’s best investigator to assist her for free, so surely, she could find a place to stay.
“Juliet, where are you lodging tonight?” Charlotte asked.
These people seemed to know her every thought.
Juliet swallowed. “I’m going to look for a lodging house.
Tomorrow night, I will stay with my parents.
” That is, if they didn’t disown her and toss her out on her bum.
“If I had gone to my parents before coming here, they might have prevented me from seeking your assistance.” She could not live with herself if something happened to Knight Roamer while she was arguing with her parents.
“You shall stay here with us.” Charlotte hopped off the desk, settled the cat on all fours, then pulled the bellpull in the corner.
Within seconds, the door opened, and Billy stuck his head in.
“Please help Lucy prepare a guest room,” Charlotte said. “Miss Coldpepper will be spending the night.”
“Already done, my lady,” Billy said with a toothy grin.
Juliet surveyed her bed, chair, nightstand, and washstand.
This chamber did not come close to the grandeur of Chesterhill Manor or even her personal bedchambers at her family’s country home and Mayfair townhouse.
Still, it was rather cozy with its blue walls, lush counterpane, and framed artwork.
Its cheerful ambiance was another reminder that Juliet wanted what her sister-in-law had.
Charlotte was the daughter of a very wealthy marquess, who’d given up society life and seemed perfectly content living in her charming home with her ruggedly masculine working-class husband, devoted staff, and adorable animals.
“Does this room suit?” Lucy asked.
“Oh, yes,” Juliet said. “I shall be quite comfortable.”
“If you need anything during your stay, do not hesitate to ask,” Lucy said. “Billy and I are both available any time. As is Lady Charlotte. She prefers to actively take part in the household duties.”
“She seems wonderful,” Juliet said.
“She is the kindest lady in the world,” Lucy said. “I used to be her lady’s maid. Now, I am her companion. I suspect because she wants her staff to feel like family.”
Juliet had been curious about Lucy’s status. Now her fashionable dress made sense.
“It warms my heart to see her so happy after the abuse she suffered at her stepmother’s hands,” Lucy said.
According to Emily, the disturbing rumors about Lady Chesterhill were indeed true. Perhaps Mother and Father were not so bad. The truth was, she’d had a pleasant life and wanted for very little. Tomorrow, she would sincerely apologize and beg them to forgive her.
“Mrs. Lista said that once you are settled, you should visit the kitchen,” Lucy said. “She has a plate prepared for you.”
Juliet’s stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten since the morning meal.
“I suspect that, being a daughter of a baron, you are used to certain rules and etiquette. However, this household is quite informal. You are welcome in the kitchen whenever you are hungry.”
Juliet considered inquiring about how to best avoid Curly and Stilts but held her tongue. Informal rules didn’t mean rudeness was acceptable.
“Charlotte would like you to join us for a late breakfast in the dining parlor tomorrow morning,” Lucy added. “About ten of the clock.”
“That sounds lovely,” Juliet said.
“I’m one door down, should you need me.” Lucy gently closed the door behind her.
Juliet’s stomach growled—again. She peeked at her reflection in the mirror above the washstand.
Her disheveled appearance would have to do since she was much too tired to care what she looked like.
Since she’d been in her boots all day, they’d begun to pinch her weary toes, although not nearly as much as Emily’s shoes.
The next time she ran away from home, she’d pack her dratted slippers.
The next time. Heaven’s above. Never again. She rolled her eyes at her reflection, then left her room.
Her heavy heels clunked down the stairs and past Hugh’s slightly ajar office door.
His deep baritone traveled through the open crack. “I need the two of you to follow Riley tonight,” he said. “He is going to be on the warpath after being publicly humiliated.”
True. He’d never allow the reporter, or anyone involved in the scandal to go unscathed. Including Juliet. She winced.
“Bloody hell, gov,” a voice she didn’t recognize said. “Why can’t we go to the brothel instead? We deserve some fun now and then.”
Juliet halted mid-step and tilted her ear so that she could better hear the conversation.
“You insufferable cod heads,” Hugh grumbled. “I’m not going there to enjoy myself.”
“Yer kingship, if ye are checking on that boxer again,” a different voice said, “we keep telling you, he ain’t returned to the city.”
“I suspect he may return tonight,” Hugh said.
Were they referencing Eric? In a brothel? Surely not. Eavesdropping often led to confusion, which is why ladies should refrain from listening to private conversations. And yet, despite her better judgment, Juliet crept closer.
“Does his return have something to do with the pretty chit Billy told us about?” one of the men asked.
“Stay away from her,” Hugh said. “Unless you want me to cut off your pasties, biscuits, bollocks, and blunt.”
Attempting to silence her gasp, Juliet covered her mouth with her palm. Mr. Fletcher seemed to be discussing her with the scalawags Curly and Stilts.
“Ah, bloody hell. This investigatin’ business is gettin’ in the way of me cunny.”
“You’re welcome to leave and find alternative employment at any time,” Hugh said.
“What would you do without us, Guv?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Hugh said, sarcasm lacing his response. “Hire a couple of respectable blokes to replace you.”
One of the men snorted. “Good luck with that. Every man in London is afraid of Knight Roamer.”
“As any of them who are reprobates should be,” Hugh said. “I highly recommend that, with your past indiscretions, if you two run into Knight Roamer, you give him a wide berth and ask him to see me. Unless you want him to knock you out, strip you naked, tie you up, and leave you on Bow Street.”
“I like to be naked and tied up,” one of the men said.
“Head my warning, you won’t like this,” Hugh said. “Now, head to Riley’s. If he leaves his house, follow him, and don’t let him near The Pink Petal because that is where I will be.”
Hadn’t the men indicated that The Pink Petal was a brothel, and where the boxer who might be Eric was?
What was she thinking? Eric wasn’t in the city—unless he had followed her.
If that was the case, what did Eric have to do with Lord Riley and Knight Roamer?
Of course, both the Knight Roamer and Eric had brown eyes, large builds, and were fabulous kissers.
Eric might have an eye injury and a bruised, swollen face, but the men also had similar jawlines.
The truth hit Juliet with the force of a thunderbolt, pelting her stomach. She hunched forward, gasping for breath. How could she have been so unbelievably daft?
“Aye, aye, Guv.”
“Yer wish is my command, yer kingship.”
“Take your sarcasm and shove it up your pox-ridden arses with a red, hot poker,” Hugh said. “But before you do that, go do your bloody job.”
Two very loud sighs followed.
The study door creaked.
Egad! Juliet was about to be caught eavesdropping. Panicking, she ducked behind a hallway table and squatted, attempting to conceal herself.
Two men exited Hugh’s study, mumbling under their breath. One was so tall his head almost hit the ceiling. Hugh followed a moment later.
No one noticed her—a miracle since she was concealed about as well as an elephant in a dollhouse.
Once the front door closed behind them, Juliet grabbed her coat from the hook that Billy had hung it on. She sneaked into the night, hiding in the shadows as she followed the investigator.