It might be worth it for Hannah to cultivate her acquaintance with Lady Fontaine, a mine of gossip, for information. Whether Lady Fontaine knew what her brother was up to or not, she might provide valuable insights on Lord Peyton and his cronies. His next-door neighbor—Lord Downes, I recalled his name was—might be useful as well. Mr.Fielding would have to help me there, as his man was already in place as groom to the neighbor’s horses.
The sooner we could help Daniel find firm information, the sooner he could come home and be out from under Mr.Monaghan’s thumb.
Not that I was convinced Mr.Monaghan would let Danielgo that easily. But I would fight with every weapon in my arsenal to get him free, including using Miss Townsend’s connection with the Home Office.
When I emerged from the pub into a rainy afternoon, I waved at Monaghan’s young constables who had tailed me, much to their consternation. I ignored my other followers and made for shops in Oxford Street, as though I’d merely paused to refresh myself before running more errands.
I dove into a secondhand clothing store and browsed its wares, hoping to find an alternative to my worn-out best frock, but nothing there that might fit me was to my taste. I thought they were asking rather a lot of money for the frocks as well.
I decided to try to find fabric and a pattern to suit me, and ask Joanna to sew a new one for me. I’d offer to pay her, and though she’d refuse, I could bring her children little gifts or bake extra treats for her and Sam. I’d compensate her somehow, whether Joanna liked it or not.
I did purchase a pattern book from a secondhand bookshop along the road. It was two years old, but I liked the look of the frocks illustrated inside.
Fabric was expensive, of course, and I’d have to dig into my funds and search far and wide before I found the perfect material I could afford.
So ruminating, I wound my way along the backstreets, smiling as I imagined the frustration of my followers. Mr.Monaghan already knew about my daughter and where she lived, so I didn’t bother trying to shake his constables, but I certainly didn’t want any villains near her.
At one point, when I turned from a tiny lane into Farringdon Road and plunged beneath the Holborn Viaduct, I heard a scuffle behind me. I glanced back to see Mr.Fielding’s lads engaging two others I didn’t recognize. The villainswould be dangerous, but Mr.Fielding would have chosen boys who knew how to fight.
I took advantage of the distraction to reverse my direction and hurry north to the next lane, which took me to Smithfield. I had no need of the meat market today, but I wandered through it as though deciding from which butcher to purchase my next week’s provisions.
Mr.Fielding’s recruits did their job well. No one dogged my steps as I passed the pile of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital and emerged into Newgate Street. From there, I wasted no time hurrying along Cheapside to Clover Lane and shutting myself into Joanna’s cozy house.
* * *
The afternoon flew by too quickly. Once Joanna’s front door closed, I let myself become absorbed in Grace and her life. After assuring Grace and Joanna that my errand had gone as well as it could have, Grace clamored to see the pattern book I’d purchased.
I sat down in the parlor with a far better cup of tea than the pub had given me, and we pored over the book with Joanna and her two daughters. Between the five of us, we chose a frock that would flatter my rather plump frame. It had few frills but enough ruffles along the bodice and hem to please Grace.
To be honest, my heart sped with excitement at the thought of having a new and elegant frock that Joanna promised to sew to perfection. I wasn’t certain when I’d become such a frivolous creature.
When it came time to depart, I hugged Grace hard before I made my way through the damp twilight to Mount Street. My followers found me when I reached the Strand, but as they must have already known where I lived, I didn’t bother tryingto shake them this time. I assured myself that Mr.Fielding’s lads and whomever Mr.Grimes had conscripted would work to keep me safe.
How ridiculous, I mused, to have so many following one innocuous cook about the metropolis. It would be comical, if some of them didn’t truly wish me harm.
Tess was in better spirits when I returned to the kitchen. She’d seen Caleb today, as he’d not yet taken up his duties in CID, or wherever he would be, and had a long chat with him. He’d assured her they’d be together as often as possible and that his elevated salary would let them do more, such as eat out on their days off.
“Fancy me in a Frenchy restaurant.” Tess laughed as she sliced mushrooms. “I’ll wager the food won’t be up to much. I’ll be sailing into the kitchen to tell the chef how much better you cook it.”
“The restaurant would chuck you out.” I began to peel and chop the onions I’d set out, knowing how much they made her teary. “Rather embarrassing for Constable Greene. I do not advise it.”
“Nor would I, Mrs.H.” A very familiar voice I hadn’t heard in weeks sounded behind me. “Though I can picture you instructing the chef yourself. Now, I’ve brought the potatoes you ordered. All right?”
Daniel McAdam, in a scruffy wool coat, breeches, and boots, dumped a heavy sack onto the floor of my kitchen and stood there grinning at me.
17
I wasn’t certain how long I remained frozen in place, knife in hand, a smattering of the onion’s juices dripping to the floor.
This could not be Daniel, whole and well, in his work clothes, smiling at me as though this were an ordinary evening and he’d found an excuse to come and pass the time. He must still be in Belgrave Square, desperately searching for evidence to break an anarchist’s ring. This was a ghost.
Except Tess saw him too. “Hiya,” she sang. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Her greeting cut through my shock, spinning emotions through me so fast I felt sick.
I took a deep breath to shout at Daniel, remembered that I was below stairs with most of the house’s staff within earshot, and rearranged what I’d been about to say.
“What are you thinking of?” I demanded, as though angry at an ignorant deliveryman’s interruption. “That’s a dirty sackon my nice clean kitchen floor, that is. You carry it into the larder, at once, as you know you’re supposed to.”
