If they were up to anything at all. Daniel had found no evidence of Fenian plots in Viscount Peyton’s house—had Monaghan truly got his information wrong? Or was he setting up Daniel in some sort of scheme to make him fail?
If Daniel watched people who had nothing to do with the bombings, and terrible things happened elsewhere, Daniel might be blamed.
Would Monaghan risk people’s lives to ruin Daniel? Thinking of the hard-eyed man, I believed he could.
But was he? Or was I simply reaching for explanations?
Just before midnight, I heard a tap on the back door. I opened it cautiously to find Adam on the doorstep.
“What yer want?” he asked ungraciously.
I forbore from scolding that a young lad should be in bed, not running about in the dark, and handed him a folded piece of paper.
“Can you get that to your mum without anyone seeing?”
The scorn Adam did so well flowed from him. “Course I can.”
No doubt Hannah, the expert, had taught him well.
“I would be grateful,” I said. “Here’s tuppence for your trouble, and a tea cake as well. Has plenty of currants.”
Adam pocketed the note and the pennies, snatched up the tea cake, and took a large bite. “ ’S’good, missus,” he said grudgingly.
That would be all the thanks I’d receive, I imagined. “Tess baked them. She will be pleased to hear it.”
Adam eyed me skeptically, then shrugged and trudged up the stairs without looking back.
Poor lad. With Hannah moving from house to pub to living with a man who might or might not have been Adam’s father, he probably didn’t know whom to trust. I believed Hannah loved him, but life with her would be unconventional.
I sighed as I shut and bolted the door. As I’d had to leave my own baby on my friends’ doorstep, I had no call to express superiority over another’s mothering skills.
I made certain the kitchen was ready for the next day, blew out the candle, and went upstairs to bed.
In the morning, as Tess and I sent up breakfast and took a few minutes to munch our own, Adam returned.
He handed me a paper—my note reused—and held his hand out for his expected payment. I gave him another tuppenceand a buttery muffin wrapped in a cloth. He looked less ungracious but again ran away without thanks.
I went down the hall into the empty larder to read Hannah’s reply in privacy.
I can get you into the house, the note promised. Greengrocer’s, Oxford Street, today.
21
As always, Hannah’s directions to a meeting were cryptic.Todaywas a vague stretch of time, and there were several greengrocers on Oxford Street.
Nevertheless, I brought out onions and mushrooms to make into a thick soup for luncheon, instructed Tess how to start, and took up my basket.
“I can go to the shops for you,” Tess said hopefully. She likely wanted a chance to encounter Caleb, who she’d told me would continue his beat until officially moving into his new position.
“Next time,” I said, not liking how quickly her eagerness faded. “Or perhaps you can take a short walk this afternoon to get some air.”
Tess brightened and returned to her chopping. I dashed up the stairs and out into the street.
The morning was warmer, June quickly approaching. I walked purposefully north through Grosvenor Square toOxford Street and headed for my usual shop. Hannah would likely know which one. She probably had instructed Adam to report to her all my haunts.
An elderly beggar woman lingered by the greengrocers, hunched over a bundle she held close to her chest. I had become used to Hannah’s disguises and pretended to ignore her as I approached the open-front shop.
The beggar started to rise, tripped, and fell into me. Her bundle crashed to the ground, and half-squashed fruits and vegetables tumbled and began to roll into the street.
