Chapter 10 #2
Miles thought she was enjoying this. She’d seen it in his face. But it wasn’t enjoyment she was feeling. It was a frenzied sort of compulsion, driving her to pursue this to the end, even if it should take all day.
Or all night.
For when that night finally came, when she was at last taken back to Miles’s house, Nell would finally have to confront the pitiless facts of her new life.
Miss Corvus was gone. Nell’s students were gone.
So was the safety of her little room, and the security of her daily routine.
She was cut adrift in a strange sea, and the moment her mission was no longer at the forefront of her mind, the fear and sadness of it would overwhelm her like so many crashing waves threatening to drag her under.
She couldn’t face it. And so long as she was here, focusing on what had happened to poor Miss Brent and Mr. Cowgill, she didn’t have to.
“Verity? I thought that was you.” Nell brazenly took a seat at the woman’s table. “I hope you don’t mind? I’ve bought you a glass of gin.”
Verity flicked a bleary look between Nell and the glass before taking the gin and downing a swallow. “Do I know you?”
“No, but I should very much like to ask you a few questions.” Nell touched her reticule, feeling the shape of the coins Miles had given her. “I’m prepared to make it worth your while.”
Verity took another drink. “You’re gonna pay me to sit here and drink your gin? And all I have to do is answer a question?” She burst out laughing. “Never heard that before.”
“I shall be quick about it, too,” Nell promised.
She had little alternative. At any moment, Mrs. Pritchard, her henchman, or some other villain might appear to call Nell and Miles to account.
Nell couldn’t risk a second altercation.
She wasn’t confident they could make their escape twice in the same day.
Not when she no longer had the element of surprise on her side.
“I understand you work for Mrs. Pritchard?” she said.
The glass stilled halfway to Verity’s mouth. She gave another laugh, more cynical this time, before bringing it the rest of the way to her lips. “Aye, I do. What’s it to you?”
“I’m looking for a girl,” Nell said. “She’s fourteen, all of five feet tall, with a slim build, and dark hair and eyes. Just a child, really, but an exceedingly comely one. She’d have arrived at the brothel, possibly on Monday.”
“What about her?”
“Did you see such a girl?”
“I might’ve done. I see all sorts at Mrs. Pritchard’s.”
“Like what?”
“That depends,” Verity drained the glass. She set it back on the table with a hard clink. “How much money are we talking about?”
Nell pushed her untouched glass of gin toward Verity. “Would a gold guinea be sufficient?”
Verity gave a slow double blink. “You’re jesting.”
“I’m not. I’ll give you one guinea to tell me about my missing girl, and another if you’ll answer a second question.”
Verity snorted. “Well?” She picked up Nell’s glass and took a drink. “Let’s see them, then.”
Nell withdrew two gold guineas from her reticule. She set them on the table before her, out of Verity’s reach.
Verity stared at them for several long seconds before giving a slow, almost reflexive, nod. “All right.” She lowered her glass. “Happen I did see a girl on Monday. A new girl, what the missus found at the railway station. She were there until yesterday.”
Nell’s heartbeat quickened. “She’s not there anymore?”
“Busted out, didn’t she? Let out one of the missus’s disinclined guests, too. Caused a right uproar. I saw her myself. The missus was after the man, and Silas was after the girl. She gave him a proper scratch with her nails before she bolted.”
Nell stared at Verity, scarcely daring to hope. “She got away?”
“Aye, she did—the stupid little tart. Mrs. Pritchard’s ain’t all bad, you know. Not if you behave.”
Nell slid one of the guinea coins to Verity across the table, keeping the second one in reserve. Relief coursed through her, knowing that Miss Brent had managed to get free, but Nell wasn’t done yet. “What do you mean, one of Mrs. Pritchard’s disinclined guests?” she asked.
Verity snatched up the first coin. “Some bloke what owed her money. She’d locked him in the attic ’til they could come to terms.”
Nell promptly withdrew Miles’s notebook from her reticule. Opening it, she discreetly showed the sketch of Mr. Cowgill to Verity. “Is this the gentleman?”
Verity looked at it. She gave another burst of inebriated laughter. “Aye, that’s the man. Out of his wits he was. Drunk or something. But I had naught to do with it. I had a punter of me own to deal with. I told the missus to keep it down and I shut me door and that were that.”
Nell pushed the second guinea partway across the table, but she didn’t relinquish it. Not yet. “What about the man? Did you see him again?”
“Naw,” Verity said. “I reckon he paid his tariff and went his merry way. The missus don’t let men get the better of her, but she ain’t hard-hearted, neither. Once they pay up, she sends them off with her blessing.”
I bet she does, Nell thought acidly.
She slid the coin the rest of the way to Verity. “Your mistress won’t like to hear that you’ve answered my questions. If I were you, I’d forget you ever saw me.”
Verity took the second guinea. She dropped it along with the first one down the front of her bodice, secreting it in her ample cleavage. “Already forgotten, ma’am. Happy to forget even more if there’s another guinea in it.”
Nell hesitated for a moment before withdrawing another coin. “Here,” she said to the woman. “Take it with my good wishes. And do look after yourself, my dear. It’s a treacherous world out there.”