“Yes, mistress.” The woman must have been waiting outside the door.
“See Miss Whitchurch safely out of the Den.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Victoria followed the woman, but she did not look at the painting or the decor, for her mind was too full of worry regarding whether Cassandra was eating enough to support both her and the baby and whether they had shelter.
She exited the house without thinking and turned towards the front of the establishment. She would like to claim a hackney, but she would walk instead so she might save her coins to assist Cassandra and the baby when they were reunited. Therefore, she turned her steps away from Whitehall and the past.
Orson joined Benjamin,Hartley, and Beaufort in Benjamin’s waiting coach. They had used his larger one today. “Did you learn anything that might assist us?” Orson asked as he climbed into the carriage.
“The coat may or may not have been hidden by one of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s ladies,” Benjamin explained. “Reportedly, one of the women long-employed by the Black Widow of Whitehall viewed one of the newer girls with the coat in the hall outside of the privates, perhaps less than a month back, but she did not report it at the time, for she did not know whether it was the one the woman used when walking about outside of the Den or not. As we knew already, Mrs. Dove-Lyon expects those she employs to go about appearing ‘respectable’ when outside of the gaming hell’s walls. However, many of the girls also keep ‘mementos’ and such from their lives before coming to the Lyon’s Den. The woman still employed within assumed it possible the coat had belonged to a loved one or some family member or something in that manner. As Titan said, ‘We all have our secrets.’ Unfortunately, when we asked if we might speak to the woman who had hidden the coat, we learned she left her position a few days after the shooting, saying the chaos had frightened her.”
“So, nothing of importance then?” Orson demanded.
“Nothing except Titan claims they were attempting to catch one of the Den’s patrons who was hiding marked cards in the niches,”Benjamin shared. “Such is how they came across the coat.”
They sat in silence for an elongated moment, before Hartley addressed Orson on another subject. “I do have two bits of good news regarding Lady Emma Donaghue. No marriage contract between Lord Donoghue and Lord Davidson has come through the diplomatic lines. Such does not mean it could not have been a private arrangement. However, if you keep Lord Davidson at bay until this coming Monday, as the lady has said, Lady Emma will reach her majority and cannot be coerced into a marriage not of her choice. I have seen a copy of her christening and her date of birth is present on the church records.”
Benjamin teased, “As I suggested last evening, you could remove the lady from Duncan’s house and secret her away in some place no one would suspect, and then you might marry her yourself.” Benjamin watched as an idea took root in Orson’s mind. He and Orson were very much alike in that manner. They both wished to have all the facts and all the options laid out before them before acting.
Before Orson chose to respond, Hartley ordered, “We should return to the Home Office and set others searching every thread of this coat. We have men who are experts in such matters, and, in Duncan’s continued absence, I have a meeting with the head of the Home Office.”
Beaufort did not wait for Benjamin to take charge. Instead, Navan opened the trap and provided Mr. Stanton orders for Hartley’s office.
As he often did, before he sat back on the bench seat, Benjamin turned his head sharply to look out the small window at the back of his carriage. It was a habit he developed when his life was in constant danger from his late uncle’s enemies during those first few years he had come to live with Duncan.
“What is so interesting?” Beaufort asked in teasing tones.
“It is she.” Benjamin pounded on the roof of the carriage so his driver would stop, and, without making an explanation he released the lock and dropped the steps as quickly as he could manage. Ignoring hisbrothers’ curiosity, he strode away to reach Miss Whitchurch, where the woman was making her way along the boulevard.
“Miss Whitchurch,” he said as he bowed to her.
She took a stutter-step and managed to stay upright only because his hand caught her elbow to steady her. “My lord,” she said in apparent surprise.
“Well met.” He had yet to release his hold on her arm. “Fancy encountering you in this part of town.”
“Yes,” she said in what sounded of distraction. “I had business…”
She looked back and he stared off also. “There are not many businesses about. Mostly residences,” he observed.
“Yes,” she said with a second look. She straightened her shoulders. “Did you also have business in this part of London today, my lord?”
“It is Whitehall, Miss Whitchurch, and I am an earl,” he said with a smile to thwart any sound of reprimand in his tone. Benjamin was not accustomed to speaking to young ladies.
“Yet, Parliament does not generally meet until later in the day,” she countered.
Before they could say more, his brothers sauntered up beside him. “If this man is bothering you, ma’am, we will be happy to dispense with him,” Beaufort said with a bow and a flirtatious smile, which always came naturally to his lordship.
“Ignore them,” Benjamin responded in irritation. “They are my brothers.”
“Your brothers!” she declared in delight. “How wonderful that you have brothers!”
Benjamin spoke for the group. “We are not brothers in blood, but we were all raised together in the same household until we were old enough to claim our peerages. My eldest brother Lord Richard Orson and the third of our brood, Lord Navan Beaufort. Gentlemen, Miss Whitchurch.”
His brothers bowed to her and she curtseyed, but MissWhitchurch looked from one of them to the other, likely realizing how they had nothing in common in appearance. “It is good to find a family where we may. People who will always stand with you. You are truly blessed, are you not?” she asked.
“We are,” Benjamin was quick to say before Beaufort could comment. “Might we see you to your destination, Miss Whitchurch?”
