Chapter Sixteen
Victoria rushed along with those leaving their daily work behind, only she was going, rather than coming from the shop. Brunswick had had to set her down a street away from Mr. Sustar’s shop because there were two carts overturned in the road, and an argument had drawn a large crowd.
“I apologize, miss,” Brunswick said with a frown. “We must go around on the parallel street, but I cannot guarantee there is not chaos there also. I dare not leave the gig unattended.”
“Nonsense,” Victoria announced. “I am capable of walking a short distance without an incident. You may remain on the seat and watch me turn into the close.”
The footman frowned. “His lordship will be most displeased.”
“I shan’t tell him,” Victoria assured. She squeezed the back of the man’s hand. “I shall see you in the morning, and I promise to practice caution.” Ignoring the man’s continued disapproval, she climbed down from the seat and with a small wave started off towards Sustar’s shop.
It had been two weeks since that day when she dined with three earls.
Her mother would be beside herself if she knew of Victoria’s good fortune, but, upon second thought, when she had written to her parents, Victoria had purposely not spoken of Lord Thompson or his brothers.
She had told her parents of the necessity of discovering a new place to live and of the boy’s existence, but she had provided few details beyond the child’s gender.
She was near the close when someone called her name. Victoria turned to watch Mrs. Taylor’s approach. “My goodness, I thought never to see you again,” the woman said as she embraced Victoria.
“I am still employed in Mr. Sustar’s shop,” Victoria said cautiously. Though she liked Mrs. Taylor, Victoria’s time with Lord Thompson had taught her to be wary.
“Has that sister of yours finally found her way home?” Mrs. Taylor asked. “Tell me you are not still tending to the child. Miss Cassandra should have him christened. Have you named him?”
“Not yet,” Victoria reluctantly admitted.
“It is too much to ask of you. Take the boy home and turn him over to his father.”
“No,” Victoria said with more emphasis than she wished. “The boy would be treated poorly by the baron and his son, as well as the neighborhood.”
“I thought your cousin meant to protect you. A landed gentleman and all,” the woman said with an unspoken question in her tone.
“His lordship has extended his protection, but I do not think a man I barely know should be required to take on the responsibility of both the boy and me,” Victoria countered.
“But he acts with your welfare in mind?” Mrs. Taylor asked. “It would worry me greatly if you and the child suffered.”
“His lordship has found us rooms, and he hired a wet nurse for the boy. Such is all I could ask of him. I shan’t be obliged for more. It would not be fair. Now, if you will pardon me, I should not keep Mr. Sustar waiting.” She again embraced the woman and rushed away.
Victoria did not view Mrs. Taylor’s retreat nor did she expect when she turned into the close to slam into a man in a long dark-colored coat, who bent beside her to pick up the items which had fallen from her bag when the collision caused her to lose hold of it.
Parts of its contents peppered the dirty bricks with bits of color.
“Pardon, miss,” he said in gruff tones as he knelt beside her and scooped up thread and thimbles and the like to drop them into the bag. She sighed internally. It would take her hours to untangle the thread and rewind it onto the board, as well as reorganize the contents.
“I have it,” she had told him, not wishing to make a scene. She kept her eyes averted and swallowed her complaints.
“As you wish.”
As he stood and walked away, she did not view his face. Only his legs. Even so, Victoria caught at her chest, for she was unable to suppress the feeling that evil had walked across her grave. A shudder of dread ran down her spine as the man turned and disappeared along the street.
Someone shook his shoulder, but Benjamin was sore to leave the image of Miss Whitchurch behind. The lady had been smiling up at him, and she was the most tempting woman he had ever encountered.
“My lord,” a familiar voice said, but Benjamin could still not quite place it, for Miss Whitchurch had risen on her toes to…
It took him a few extra seconds before the voice registered, and he opened his eyes to view Patterson standing by Benjamin’s bed. The butler was half-dressed and his hair was unkempt.
Benjamin bolted upright. “Has something happened to Miss Whitchurch or Duncan?” he demanded as he shoved the bed linens from the way.
“A message, sir, from Lord Graham. Nothing about Miss Whitchurch or his lordship, sir, but Lord Graham says you should come immediately.”
Benjamin snatched the note from his butler’s hands. “Bring the candle closer,” he instructed.
Thompson, there has been an incident near Sustar’s drapery shop.
Some two streets removed. The watch says he viewed the victim at Sustar’s shop earlier, before the shop closed for the day, and the person spoke to Miss Whitchurch.
It seems too convenient, if you know what I mean.
We might require a few more ‘lords’ to prevent a bit of hysteria.
In that manner, I have also sent for Duncan.
Behind the Old Clock Shop. You might bring Brunswick along.
Your man seems to have formed a connection to those in the area.
Graham
“Tell Brunswick I will require him to bring the gig around for Miss Whitchurch earlier than normal. I will also require a horse saddled for my use. Send Brunswick to me as soon as he is dressed.”
“Yes, my lord. Do you require Mr. McCormack?” Patterson asked.
“No, I have it. Simply send for Brunswick and order the horse and gig.”
Benjamin hurried to his dressing room to retrieve clothes to wear.
His mind raced. “Graham would not have sent for both me and Duncan if this mess did not spell danger for Miss Whitchurch.” He put on his breeches and socks.
He would wear the boots he customarily used when examining the properties he meant to purchase.
“Easier to put on.” He sat to tug on the items and then reached for a shirt and coat.
Using the mirror, he tied a simple cravat.
“Crazy to dress thusly,” he told his image in the mirror, “but Graham said we might require ‘lord’ power.”
In less than a quarter hour, he was in the main hall waiting for Brunswick.
“You wished to speak to me, my lord?” Brunswick asked as he entered the hallway.
“Yes, I want you to go early to fetch Miss Whitchurch. There was an incident near Sustar’s shop.
Lord Graham is with the watch, who told Graham he had viewed the victim with Miss Whitchurch.
I fear it might be the lady’s sister. You are not to mention anything to the lady until I can confirm what has occurred, and, under no circumstances is she to come to the scene. ”
“I understand, my lord. I will wait for the lady in the close. I should be on my way as quickly as I can hitch up the gig.”
“I will leave soon. I am waiting for my horse,” Benjamin explained.
“Be safe, sir. Take a gun with you,” Brunswick said before rushing away.
Benjamin circled back to his study and claimed two guns before returning to the foyer. “I heard the horse being brought around, my lord,” Patterson announced.
“Thank you. I will return as soon as possible.” With that, he was gone. “Protect Miss Whitchurch,” he whispered to the night’s darkness. “The woman has become quite essential to my hopes for the future.”
Less than a half hour later, Benjamin handed off his horse to one of the government men gathered about a roped off area.
Graham met him with a handshake. “Glad they could rouse you out. It is back here inside this close.” Graham gestured for Benjamin to lead.
“I was on my way to have a quick look upon Sustar’s store, just as I promised you I would do, and to know the lady was safe when I came across the watch and a body. ”
Benjamin stumbled to a stop. “Could it be Miss Whitchurch’s sister?” He would wish to break such news to the lady himself rather than for her to hear it secondhand.
“Not the sister,” Graham assured. “The victim is too old to be Miss Cassandra.”
Benjamin let out the breath he had not realized he held. “Thank God! Miss Whitchurch has known enough tragedy.”
“Are you going to marry the lady?” Graham asked.
“I have not even kissed her,” Benjamin objected.
Graham shrugged as if Benjamin had not responded. Instead, Aaran grinned. “Did you realize that Beaufort has released his mistress?”
“Juliet?” Benjamin asked. “I have heard rumors, but nothing definite. Has he replaced her?” Though Benjamin did not approve of a man keeping a mistress, he knew Beaufort was a complicated man still searching for redemption for being the only one saved from his family’s slaughter.
Until Navan Beaufort recognized his own worth, he would continue to mistake a mistress for the love he truly sought.
Graham’s smile widened. “Not exactly. I believe he has fallen for Miss Audrey Moreau.”
Benjamin stopped suddenly. “But, is she not involved in the bank note forgeries? Her uncle…”
“I cannot speak with any confidence to the whole of it,” Graham assured, “but I believe we are all in for a big surprise. It always amazes me how people think because I have a twisted leg and a scar on my cheek that it affects my hearing, as well as my intelligence. That is why I am called upon to impinge upon the less desirable groups.”
“When you marry, I pray that you discover a woman who can rattle your sarcastic response to each question,” Benjamin retorted.
“Here we are,” Graham said as he bent stiffly to pull back a seed sack that had been covering the body.
“Dear God in Heaven!” Benjamin gasped as he looked upon the grotesque face of an elderly woman. “What are those…”