I took his offered arm, happy in truth that he could lead me past the watchers. They might all be constables under the thumb of Mr.Monaghan, but then again, they might not. In addition, Mr.Monaghan sometimes employed ruffians to assist him, Daniel had told me, including those Daniel did not trust.
We strolled back through the market and down Southampton Street. I tried not to glance at the house where Daniel lodged as we passed it.
The Strand was more crowded than ever, especially as we approached the huge Charing Cross railway station. Mr.Fielding and I both knew London well enough that we turned without discussion down a side street to avoid the throng, emerging into St. Martin’s Lane and Trafalgar Square.
“My dear brother asked me to look in on you,” Mr.Fielding said as we reached an open space in the middle of the square.
His “dear brother” was Daniel. Errol Fielding and Daniel had been looked after as lads by a Mr.Carter, a criminal himself but apparently one who had been good to both boys. They were foster brothers rather than related by blood, and they cared about each other, though both nearly had to be threatened with torture to admit it.
“Did he?” I inquired in some irritation.
“He did,” Mr.Fielding said. “I was happy to comply.”
My tone remained testy. “Daniel has been absent more than a week. What has kept you away?”
Mr.Fielding chuckled. “Nothing, dear lady. I have been keeping you in my sights all this time. I am simply much better at hiding it than the clumping dolts following you about town.”
I could not be surprised. Mr.Fielding, though he was truly a vicar now, had long been a confidence trickster with much knowledge on how to dissemble.
“Do you not have a flock to attend in the East End?” I asked him.
“I do, but I also have lads in my parish who do not mind earning a bob or two letting me know how you fare.”
I recalled the more youthful of the beggars I’d been distributing food to this week. “Does one have thick brown hair and a broken front tooth? The other from the Punjab?”
To my satisfaction, Mr.Fielding started. “You are an observant one, Mrs.Holloway. The Punjabi lad is as much a Londoner as you or I, born and raised here. Both know the streets well and, as I say, don’t say no to a bob or two. Also, I trust them. They’re loyal to me, and they are quite taken with you.”
“I ought to have thought of you when they suddenly turned up.” I studied the worn base of Nelson’s Column beside us. “Give them my best wishes, and tell them it is not necessary to watch over me every moment.”
“Itisnecessary.” Mr.Fielding sobered. “Daniel is in this business up to his neck, and it might endanger you, I am sorry to relate. My watchers stay.”
I ceased arguing, knowing it would do no good. As long as Mr.Fielding’s lads did not impede me, I’d not object. I might even make some use of them.
“I suppose you are observing Daniel as well?” I asked. “Though he pleaded for us both not to?”
“Of course.” Mr.Fielding gave me his perfected innocent expression. “Not that Daniel pleads, ma’am. Don’t exaggerate. He states his wishes quite firmly and grows exasperated when we don’t comply. I have stationed others near the house, who saw you wander there on Monday.”
“Is one a groom?” I thought of the man who’d started to move toward me as I’d peeked into the mews.
Mr.Fielding heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Of course, you spotted him too. He is. I installed him to work for the lordship next door to the viscount. He said he meant to warn you away, but you took the hint and disappeared.”
I was happy to learn that the groom had worked for a friend, not an enemy. I was also glad Mr.Fielding had stationed people near, even if he inferred that I disapproved.
“What does the lordship next door think about Viscount Peyton?” I asked.
Mr.Fielding ran slim, gloved fingers over his neat beard. “Feels sorry for the viscount, being unable to get around by himself. Lord Downes declares that a man in that state might as well be dead. Very hearty sort, is Lord Downes.”
“Mm, he sounds it.”
“Acknowledges that Peyton has a good mind though. Brilliant at chess—at least, he bests Lord Downes every time, which, according to the groom, must not be difficult. Viscount Peyton has a finger in many governmental pies, always pushing for reform. Is sympathetic to foreigners, supports Irish Home Rule. All the traits Downes despises. Gents like Peyton will ruin Britain, and so forth, says Lord Downes.”
I’d overheard many a gent in London state similar opinions. Ladies too.
The Irish question had figured prominently in other cases Daniel had taken, dangerous ones that had nearly hastened his death.
Irish Home Rule was a volatile subject these days. The newspapers harangued about it on both sides of the question. I had compassion for the Irishmen who wished to govern themselves after centuries of subjugation and impoverishment, but I could not condone those who tossed incendiary devices onto railway platforms or into streets, injuring or killing innocent children. It might bemydaughter who inadvertently stepped in their way.
“Is Lord Peyton involved with Fenians?” I named the group, begun in America and funded by Americans who supported the Irish. Many American Fenians had family in Ireland and had themselves emigrated to Boston or New York to findemployment. While those who worked for Irish Home Rule had a common cause with them, the Fenians were the ones who advocated using violence, including the bombings, to obtain their goals.
