Chapter 14 #2
Hugh raked a hand through his hair. “I went to her.”
She had doused the lamps to help obscure him as he climbed through her bedroom window, and Sir had scattered the foot patrols, but he might still have been seen.
Thornton swore under his breath and avoided Hugh by going to the cookstove. The water in the pans was steaming now. “You are an idiot,” he muttered.
Hugh didn’t think his friend was wide of the mark. “She was at Lady Reed’s. She found Eloisa. I wanted to know what she saw.”
Among other reasons for wanting to see her.
“I know she was there.” Thornton grabbed the simple tweed coat he wore while being Doctor Brown from a brass hook and tugged his arms through the sleeves. “She sent word to me about the smoke.”
Hugh went still. “She said nothing about that.”
A building murmur of voices at the front of the rowhouse indicated his first patients were arriving. Thornton went to the back door, which he no doubt planned to boot Hugh through, into the alley.
Thornton arched a brow. “I am sure the two of you were preoccupied with other…topics.”
“Don’t be an arse. Nothing has happened, and it won’t.”
Thornton made a sound in his throat that needed no translation: he didn’t believe it. He opened the door, but the prospect of going back out into the frigid cold threatened to glue Hugh’s boots to the floor.
“What about the smoke?” Hugh asked, though not just to stall. The newssheets had mentioned the thick brume as well. It sounded like a tactic the killer used to clear the room and give him an advantage in sneaking up on Eloisa.
“The duchess and I attend lectures at the Lyceum, and several weeks ago Alexander and Jane Marcet, both chemists, were presenting a talk on Mrs. Marcet’s book, Conversations on Chemistry.”
Hugh refrained from rolling his eyes. “Riveting, I’m sure.”
A few months ago, when Thornton mentioned seeing Audrey at the Lyceum, Hugh had been slightly envious, but not surprised. Staid, common society outings would not interest the duchess. Her sharp mind would be drawn to information, even if to Hugh the topic was absurdly dull.
“I think I drooled a bit when I nodded off, if I’m honest,” Thornton admitted.
“But there were a few demonstrations, and one was the combination of several elements inside a tube that produced a small smoke bomb. The odor was quite strong and the haze so thick, the hall was cleared for a short while.”
“This was several weeks ago?” Hugh asked, intrigued.
“About a month,” he replied with a nod. “The duchess had planned to attend but was unable.”
“What did she ask of you?”
“Just my thoughts on the matter, to see if there could be a connection. I sent a request to the Marcets to speak to them more about this device they set off. I have an appointment with them this afternoon.” He winked.
“If I nod off while listening to them in their home, I shall lay the blame on you.”
“Why not? I’m already accused of worse.” Hugh shook his head and grinned.
Thornton dug into his waistcoat pocket and held up a key. “There is a room upstairs, if you find yourself in need.”
Hugh thanked him and took the key. Outside, he flipped the collar of his great coat against a raking wind.
“I will put a man on Violet House,” Thornton called after him. “I’ll also find out what I can about Sir Robert’s other daughter and her whereabouts. Just stay out of sight for now.”
The door shut, and Hugh continued down the alley. He hadn’t taken a few strides before Sir fell into step with him, appearing as if belched up from the center gutter.
“Got some bad news, Mister Hugh.”
“Lady Reed is dead. I’ve heard.” Ahead in the alley, a coal cart driver was backing up his load, blocking the way. Hugh slowed and took a glance over his shoulder. “Sir, are you certain no one has been following me?”
“Sure, I’m sure.” Sir’s voice pitched high as if offended. “But the bad news ain’t about some dead lady. The duchess nicked some papers.”
Hugh looked down at the boy, whose hands were empty. “Where are they then?”
“Gone.”
“What do you mean? How?”
“She don’t know who it was, but a man was waiting for her in her house. The blighter took them papers and scarpered.”
Alarm streaked through his veins. Regret chased it. “Did the bastard hurt her?”
Sir shook his head. “Nah, she’s just steamed. So am I. Nearly got m’self knocked about at that solicitor’s place, helping her get ‘em. They thought I was the footpad what turned over another solicitor’s place the night before. They was on their guard, they was.”
Acid filled Hugh’s throat when he thought of some faceless intruder waiting for Audrey inside Violet House. It could have been the same person who went after Lady Reed, if indeed she hadn’t died of natural causes, which Hugh thought likely.
This was his doing. He’d asked her to steal his father’s files, and evidently, someone had been watching.
Hugh frowned. “What other solicitor was turned over?”
Sir shrugged. Perhaps it wasn’t important, but two solicitors’ offices being rifled through in so many days seemed an odd coincidence.
“The duchess said she read the papers ‘fore they were taken and that it’s real important she see you,” Sir continued. “She’s got a ball tonight and wants you to go.”
The vitriol Hugh had been spewing at himself abruptly cut off.
“I cannot go to a ball,” he said as the coal cart straightened out and an opening in the alley appeared. What was Audrey thinking? She knew he couldn’t show his face in public, let alone at a ball.
Sir overtook him and turned around, bringing Hugh up short. He stopped just before slamming into the boy.
“Corner of Hart and Duke streets, near Grosvenor Square. Show up around nine. Her driver’ll find you. The meaty one,” Sir ordered. “The duchess insists.”
Hugh gritted his teeth. “Of course, she does.”