I paused in my note-taking. “Do you think he might have spied you talking to the scullery maid?”
“Nah, because the kitchens are well to the back of the house, which opens into the mews. The windows above don’t overlook the door, which you come to through a little side passageway. I don’t like that passageway, because anyone could sneak down it without those in the house knowing.”
I decided I didn’t like it either. If James had found a hidden back way in, a villain could as well. “I am glad you are keeping an eye on the house, then.”
“When I can. Dad has me doing his routes, I suspect not only so I can earn some coin and keep his clients from turning to others, but to keep me out of his business.”
“Yes, I imagine he thought of that,” I said in commiseration.
“There is one change in the household,” James said as Newgate Street merged into Cheapside. “They have a new maid. She started on Saturday afternoon. Never seen her before, not there or in any of the other houses Dad delivers to.”
He wouldn’t have, of course. “Tell me about her.” I dutifully made a note of this new maid.
James shrugged. “Ordinary. Quiet-looking, dark hair, a bit lofty, I think. I’ve watched her talk to the scullery maid who was scrubbing the front step. Stern and la-di-da.”
James was an observant lad, but Hannah projected what she wanted everyone to see.
“Does she look like an anarchist at all?” I asked.
James chortled. “Not her. Probably they need more help since the viscount is stuck in his wheeled chair. He’s gone out a few times, carried into his carriage by the big valet. Comes home soon, drooping as he’s taken back inside.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “If not for Dad being there for police business, I’d say it was an ordinary toff’s house, same as any other in Belgravia.”
I had no doubt James’s description was apt. Why, then, was Mr.Monaghan so certain there were bad goings-on in the viscount’s home? I itched to talk to Hannah but knew I’d have to wait.
The hansom slowed as it rolled along Cheapside. The busy road was as crowded as ever, a large knot of people gathering halfway along to observe Mr.Bennett’s clock perched above his watch shop. On the hour, the ancient gods of Gog and Magog would raise hammers and strike and restrike a bell, sounding out the time. This entertaining spectacle drew hordes despite police efforts to limit their numbers. Nothing could keep Londoners from their pleasures.
Clover Lane was west of the clock, so the hansom could pull to the side of the street relatively unencumbered to let me alight.
I invited James to join me, as Grace and Joanna and family adored James, but he declined.
“Too many things to do,” he said as he assisted me down. “I’m a working gent now, Mrs.Holloway.”
I was happy James was earning his bread, though I hoped he could someday find a more lucrative trade.
I forestalled him leaping back into the cab. “Before you rush away, James, will you try to find Mr.Grimes for me? I’d like to speak to him.”
Zachariah Grimes, who sometimes helped Daniel,unofficially, in his cases, looked like the most dangerous bone breaker one could meet, but he had a warm heart, and he was very fond of Daniel. I wished to confer with him on a thing or two.
Asking anyone to scour the masses in London for one man would be daunting for any other person, but James didn’t flinch.
“Right you are, Mrs.H. I’ll send him your way.” James sketched me a salute and dove back into the hansom, which turned swiftly and rolled back toward St. Paul’s.
I left the crush of Cheapside for the quiet of Clover Lane and the small house near its end.
Grace greeted me with enthusiasm that hadn’t dimmed over the years. My heart ached as I held her in the vestibule of Joanna’s cozy home.
My dream of running a tea shop while Grace played in the back room would soon be beyond reach if she kept growing up. I might be in the tea shop, but she’d be gone, off in her own life, with a family of her own. Perhaps she’d sometimes spare a thought or two for her old mum.
Until then, I intended to extract as much pleasure from our visits as I could.
Grace gushed over the little trinket box I’d brought her, and we took some time to find the best place to display it in the bedchamber she shared with Jane, Joanna’s oldest daughter. Grace thanked me as profusely as if I’d brought her a string of diamonds.
“Where shall we go today, Mum?” Grace asked me when we went back downstairs to prepare for our walk.
“It is such a fine day,” I said. “Hyde Park?”
There were closer green areas, like Lincoln’s Inn Fields or the Victoria Embankment, with its gardens along the Thames.When I’d been a babe in arms, the Thames had been foul, my mother had told me, with all means of offal and filth floating in it, so that one could not go near its sickening stench.
A new brick-lined sewage system, which apparently was a wonder of the world, had drained the horrors from our river. The embankments on either side of the Thames now both prevented flooding and provided a fine place to walk on a spring day.
