“I was awake anyway. We are expecting something important will occur between Honfleur and Yates within the next couple of days. I have been receiving steady reports from Warwickshire of others associated with William Booth’s operations. I will require the two of you to be prepared to respond.”
“As always, sir,” Benjamin assured. That was something else he must discuss with Miss Whitchurch. The lady should be aware of his obligations to the government if he was to extend his hand to the woman.
Duncan shrugged off his exhaustion. “So why has this person piqued your interest, Graham?”
Graham lifted the seed sack again and stepped aside.
“Do we know her identity?” Duncan gestured for Graham to return the sack to its place.
Graham explained, “The watchman mentioned he has seen the woman upon several occasions. Saw her last evening just as the shops were closing. She was conversing with Miss Whitchurch. Could the needles be hers?”
“Oh, no!” Benjamin protested. “You do not think Victoria is involved with this!”
Graham swallowed his smile. “Since when did the lady become ‘Victoria’?”
“Never!” Benjamin hissed in anger, ignoring the implication. “You know there is nothing occurring between me and the lady.”
“Calm down,” Duncan cautioned as he reached out a hand to Benjamin. “We recognize your charity. No one who has ever met Miss Whitchurch would think the lady is incapable of loving her family and friends too little. As for me, I pray for the day when you propose. Ihave one daughter in the form of Lady Emma, but I have room in my heart for more. Elsbeth would be thrilled to view our house full of children.” He shrugged. “In truth, since my attack, I often find myself quickly tiring of this business. Unfortunately, until that day, have we learned the name of our victim? Her family should be notified. You may be required to ask Miss Whitchurch to identify the lady.”
“Is such truly necessary?” Benjamin pleaded.
“Unfortunately, I fear it is,” Duncan declared as he and Graham stepped to the side to speak to the waiting watchman.
While the others executed what was required of them, with a sad heart, Benjamin turned his steps towards Sustar’s shop. He worked his way along the walkway to the shop. His would be a sorry tale for Miss Whitchurch, and, like it or not, he never wished for her to know a single drop of worry.
“Ah, my lord,” Brunswick called as Benjamin approached. “Did all go well with Lord Graham?”
“I fear not. They wish to speak to our Miss Whitchurch. Is it not time for the lady to be released for the day?” Benjamin asked as he studied the back door of the drapery shop.
“It seems Mr. Sustar likes to squeeze an additional five minutes here and ten minutes there of which Miss Whitchurch is not paid. She receives the same pay as she did when she worked ten hours. Now she is here for twelve hours.”
Benjamin knew he frowned, but he could not disguise his displeasure. However, he argued, “You are paid the same salary for your services, no matter the number of hours in the day.”
“True, my lord, but I am permitted three meals and a bed where I may rest and a variety of duties, as well as a uniform and some actual time when I might hold a conversation with the coachman or even my master, as I do now. I am not expected to place small stitches in delicate cloth with only one candle to light the night. No company. Just a stack of orders to complete before I may leave my post.”
“I never thought of the lady’s work in those terms,” Benjamin admitted, while wondering if the duties Miss Whitchurch performed were commonplace for all those within Sustar’s shop. Were the male clerks not permitted regular hours and benefits such as a midday meal?
At length, the door opened, and the lady emerged. “My lord, I did not expect you,” she said with a smile, which Benjamin was grieved to destroy. “Should you not be overseeing our breakfast? You know that is one of my favorite times in the day.”
Benjamin tucked her close to his body. His words would bring her sorrow. “I am sorry to inform you, Miss Whitchurch,” he said as he turned their steps from the shop, “that there has been an incident nearby. I have been asked to bring you around. I am hoping you are strong enough to view such a scene.”
“Cassandra?” she pleaded.
“No, but apparently someone with whom you are familiar,” he assured as he led her in the direction of where Graham and Duncan awaited him.
“Is someone harmed?” she begged as her grip on his arm tightened.
“Deceased,” he said solemnly, while bracing her as she stumbled to a stop.
“Deceased?” Her lips trembled and tears filled her eyes when she looked up at him in supplication. “Who?”
“I do not know the lady,” he said, still attempting to prepare her. He purposely kept the emotion from his tone to keep her calm. “The watchman says you spoke to the woman yesterday eve.”
She clutched his arm and swayed in place. He maneuvered her closer to the building to prop her against it. “Mrs. Taylor,” she whispered as she clung to his shoulder. “Mrs. Mildred Taylor, from my former boarding house. I spoke to her right before I entered the close.”
“Why did not Brunswick also see the woman?” he asked.
“The street was blocked by two horse carts that were tangled. I… I… I walked the last bit. Brunswick was not able to go through, and we feared the adjacent streets might also be full.” Her eyes lifted to his. “Why would anyone harm Mrs. Taylor? She was so sweet to everyone, even Mrs. Holland. She is the one who taught me how to make pap and how to fold a nappy for the boy.”
