“Don’t worry if you ain’t happy for a while. It was a close-run thing. Just keep on with what you do, and don’t let what they almost did stop you from living.”
I suddenly wished I’d had this giant of a man to pat my hand when my husband had disappeared, leaving me with a baby on the way and nowhere to turn. Of course, I’d likely have been terrified of Mr.Grimes—I’d been much unnerved the first time I’d seen him, before I’d known his true character.
The baby I’d feared for all those years ago was alive and well and being looked after by the best friends on earth.
I huddled in the cab all the way back to Mount Street, feeling rather sick. Mr.Grimes noticed and passed me a flask, wiping the mouth of it with a handkerchief first.
I was not one for spirits, but I readily downed a few swallows of the fiery liquid inside. Not gin—Mr.Grimes didn’t have the half-drunken, red-eyed look of one taken with gin. Whiskey, and not a bad one. I used whiskey in some of my apple dishes and had to have a nip of it now and again to make certain it had the flavor I needed.
I thanked Mr.Grimes and handed him back the flask. He wiped it again and took a long drink himself.
I insisted the cab let me off in South Audley Street. I did not need to be lectured by Mrs.Bywater about getting above myself swanning about in cabs. Not today.
Mr.Grimes helped me down. He forestalled me rummaging in my handbag for shillings by telling me he’d already paid the fare.
I clung to him a moment, trying to get my feet back underneath me. He was a rock, this man, kind to me and to Daniel.Others would consider him a villain, and I’m certain the police would be happy to question him about his past, but I knew few kinder men in the world than he.
“Good night, Mr.Grimes,” I said. “And thank you. Turn up any evening, and I’ll save the best of what I bake for you.”
His grin split his face. “No need, missus. Though them crullers were a treat.”
“I’ll make a special batch for you. Now, please make certain Daniel doesn’t fall prey to these people. I’m certain they know he was in Lord Peyton’s house to discover their plans.”
“You leave it with me.” Mr.Grimes pressed my hands again, then released me. “You’ve no cause to worry with me and me mates looking after you.”
I thanked him one more time—the words would not cease coming out of my mouth—and made myself stride purposefully toward Mount Street, wiping blood and dirt from my face with my handkerchief. Mr.Grimes rather ruined my quiet exit by waving and bellowing a good-bye to me.
The ordinariness of my kitchen closed around me like a warm blanket as soon as I entered it.
Elsie sang as she scrubbed pots, the sleeves of her work dress rolled to her elbows. Tess was lecturing a footman who presumably had come in to pinch a tidbit from the work table. Tess waved her chopping knife in emphasis, to the footman’s alarm.
Mr.Davis and Mrs.Redfern were having a loud discussion about linens in the passageway between kitchen and butler’s pantry. Pots burbled on the stove, and the scents of broth, roasting meat, and baking rolls wafted to me.
I let out a long breath of relief as I hung up my jacket and hat.
Tess caught sight of me and beamed me her usual grin. The footman, startled by my sudden presence, scuttled away.
“Cheeky lad,” Tess said to the footman’s retreating back. “Had a nice day out, Mrs.H.? How’s that sweet Grace?”
I sank down into a chair, uncertain that this afternoon I’d actually performed a false séance, searched Lord Peyton’s house, taken the map I’d found to Scotland Yard, and then been attacked and nearly killed in a street I’d walked along for most of my life.
“It was fine,” I forced myself to say. “But I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea. A strong one, if you’d be so kind.”
* * *
If I’d been the lady of the house, I’d have gone straight to bed with plenty of scalding tea laced with brandy and a hot brick to warm my feet. I’d have remained there as long as I liked, being waited on by anxious servants, not rising until my trembling ceased.
As it was, I had to get on with finishing supper for the Bywaters. A domestic in a large house was not allowed to let anything, even nearly being murdered in a back lane, prevent her from finishing her duties.
I did not fancy going to bed anyway. I’d only lie awake, hearing the man’s snarling voice and feeling his hot breath on my neck, followed by the cold touch of a knife.
The blade hadn’t drawn blood, I saw when I changed my frock. Mr.Grimes had reached me quickly enough. I had a faint mark on the side of my throat, along with bruises on my neck from where the wretch had held me against the wall. My left cheek was scratched, but when I washed what little brick dust I hadn’t wiped away already, the scratches scarcely showed.
I’d come out of the affair with few injuries, thanks to great good luck and Mr.Grimes’s rescue.
I returned to the kitchen. Tess barely glanced up at me, so hard-pressed was she to have the vegetable dishes finished in time.
I took up a knife and helped her, noting that my hands stopped shaking once they were busy doing what they knew best. I let myself work, the routine consoling me, as did the satisfaction of turning out a dish well done.
