Chapter 22
Before setting forth with Joshua the following day, Georgina took a few moments to pen a hasty note to Edmund. Given he had initiated this whole drama, he damn well could make a small effort to ensure the wellbeing of their friend, Arthur.
In clear and precise terms, she instructed him to proceed immediately to Mount Street and insist that Arthur pack some belongings and remove to Edmund’s own lodgings for a few days.
If anyone inquired, they were to announce a stay with friends in the country and provide no further advice.
While there, Arthur was to remain discreet and preferably indoors, until at least Monday.
It would fall to Edmund to keep him amused, and she suggested he might procure some art supplies to facilitate this.
Anticipating a plethora of objections, Georgina also warned Edmund that this was a matter of life and death, and that any obstacles he might create would be unacceptable. This had to override any existing plans, romantic or otherwise.
She sealed the missive and sent it off with a messenger before calling for Joshua and her carriage.
Within half an hour, Georgina was driving her curricle through some of the lesser-known and more dangerous streets of London. With Joshua perched up beside her, she experienced her first pangs of doubt about his scheme.
In the initial fright afforded by the stranger assaulting her in the street, the boy’s plan had offered a level of merit. Yet, in the stark light of day, after a restless night’s sleep and a general sense of foreboding, Georgina started to question Joshua’s judgment on the matter.
These scoundrels coming after her were dangerous.
While Mrs Gardner must have been involved, Georgina understood that Montgomery and Ellis were at the heart of it.
Thanks to the waggling tongue of the brute last night, she understood their much darker connection to Henry’s murder.
If they were capable of such a despicable crime, what would prevent them from repeating it—or worse? The prospect made her shudder.
At breakfast that morning, Georgina had drunk only her coffee and declined all offers of sustenance.
She had entertained penning a letter to Elizabeth to seek her counsel on the matter, but recalled her abrupt withdrawal from the masquerade and decided her upstanding friend would not appreciate such an appeal for assistance.
Moreover, Georgina was haunted by a new question—did Mrs Gardner know about Henry’s death?
Further, did Elizabeth realise her “friend” was connected to such people?
She could not be distracted now. Georgina therefore did her best to push Elizabeth from her mind, as they drove into Holborn, an area known for its criminal underworld.
Joshua gestured for Georgina to pull into Hatton Garden; after proceeding down this bustling road a little way, he pointed her to a narrow laneway to be taken on foot.
Georgina pulled the curricle over to the side.
Buckby, seated behind, leaned forward and murmured something about nothing good coming from meddling with these sorts.
Georgina jumped onto the street. “Your optimism is relentless, Buckby.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Meet us back here in half an hour.”
He nodded and jogged the horses forward.
A confident Joshua led the way down Ely Court, a narrow lane barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast.
Nestled at the end of a constricted lane, she could not see the public house from the street. She would never have known of its existence without Joshua’s direction.
Once they reached the cobblestoned courtyard, Georgina took the lead and went towards the door of the tavern. She hoped the relatively early hour of the day meant they might avoid unsavoury characters.
She pushed the door open with a creak and walked inside with Joshua close on her heels.
A landlady stood behind the bar, drying a glass with a questionable--looking dishcloth. Everything about her was wiry and narrow, and her eyes tracked the newcomers with suspicion as they came in.
A handful of other patrons were present: a gentleman sitting nearest the front window with a large tankard of beer, looking a little worse for wear; another gentleman in quite genteel attire having some lunch; as well as two ladies chatting in undertones to themselves over glasses of clear liquid, which Georgina suspected was gin.
She once again questioned her trust in Joshua’s scheme.
Joshua winked at her and set forth to the bar. He scrambled up onto the stool, beckoned to the landlady, and leaned across the bar to whisper something to her.
The landlady put the glass down and wiped her hands on her apron before coming out from behind the bar to lead the way over to the gentleman finishing his lunch.
“Might have some business for you,” she murmured, clearing away his plate. She pulled an extra chair over to accommodate both Joshua and Georgina at the gentleman’s table.
The gentleman settled back in his chair. “How may I be of service?”
Georgina, confronted with the irregularity of her situation and trying to explain it in words, hesitated. “I find myself in danger. -Yesterday, an unsavoury sort of person set upon me and physically threatened me.”
The man steepled his hands together. “And was this a random attack? What makes you think that danger remains?”
“It was not random. I have something that the knave wants, and I suspect they will make the attempt again until it is back in their possession.”
He studied her intently as she spoke, taking in her every feature. “Back in their possession? So the item belongs to them. How does it come to be in your custody?”
Georgina blushed.
“She took it. So we’s want to protect the Missus. And we’s also want to wallop ’em.” Joshua’s overexcited voice drew gawks from the other patrons.
Georgina’s eyes widened, and she glared at her impulsive charge.
“Miss Pace wants the Thames to run red with their claret.” His large brown eyes were wide, expressive, and Georgina feared, wholly convincing.
“Miss Pace does, does she?” the mystery gentleman said, highlighting Georgina’s sudden loss of protective anonymity.
She opened her mouth to protest that this was, of course, a young boy indulging in fantasy. But the child leaned on the table with his elbows and continued with zeal: “She wants their bloody heads on spikes! No one will want to cross the likes of her.”
“Joshua!” Georgina hissed.
The gentleman, taking everything in, folded his serviette and placed it down. “Well, Miss Pace, I’m afraid I cannot provide you the type of help you require …” He paused and called out, “Harrison!”
The beer-drinking man from the front window stood up, scraping the legs of his chair along the wooden floorboards. He came and stood at Georgina’s elbow, his shadow stretching over her. Was this a referral of services?
The gentleman rose. “My name is Gibbs. I am a law enforcement officer from the Bow Street Magistrates’ Court. This is not your lucky day, Miss Pace.”
***
Georgina gasped, the colour draining from her face.
She had questioned her good fortune from the day Edmund had thrust her into this whole matter.
She was now convinced that Lady Luck had not only turned but was conspiring to bring about her complete downfall.
Joshua, for all his good intentions, had led her completely astray with a catastrophic impact on her family, particularly her father.
“Blast me eyes, it’s a Bow Street Runner,” Joshua proclaimed in an awed tone.
Georgina’s own eyes widened as she tried to land on an explanation the officer would find plausible. “There has been a misunderstanding.”
“That’s what they all say,” the man behind her said in a gruff voice. “You’ll have your chance to tell the Magistrate all about it, I’m sure.”
He gripped Georgina by the arm, and she stared down at his hand. “That is unnecessary, sir. I won’t be resisting.” She stood up, plunged her hands in her pockets and followed the rougher of the two men out of the public house and into the courtyard.
The more well-favoured gentleman followed, holding Joshua by the wrist.
As they assembled in the courtyard, Georgina asked Gibbs whether it might be possible to convey a message to her groom, who would soon be waiting in Hatton Garden.
Harrison laughed. “Oh, the fine lady wants us to wait on her.”
Gibbs sneered and shook his head.
As they jeered at her high-handedness, Georgina gestured with her head to Joshua and used her eyes to direct him down the laneway.
Go! she mouthed silently.
He shook his head fervently.
Now! she mouthed.
His eyes implored hers, the little fellow clearly honour-bound to remain with her in trouble. She nodded firmly towards the street once more.
In a moment, his tiny wrist slithered out of Gibbs’s grasp.
Though the officers reacted quickly, his small and nimble frame ducked and weaved outside their clutching hands.
Their efforts were futile. Joshua jumped out of their reach and ran in the opposite direction, down the far side of Ely Court, and decamped out of sight.
“Slippery little bugger,” Harrison snarled.
“Isn’t he?” Georgina agreed, repressing a smile of satisfaction. At least Joshua would suffer no ill consequences from their outing.
As though anticipating Georgina would make a similar break for it, he grasped her by the arm again and yanked her down the laneway.