Georgie’s lips parted in disbelief. “Pardon?”
“I believe he departed the same way he came in,” Evie said, “through the main door.”
“Based upon what?”
“I know it sounds farfetched, but it is the only thing that makes sense.”
Georgie raised her brow over the implication. “Does it? Because you are asking me to believe that someone in the orphanage allowed my attacker to enter.”
“You mentioned before that Mrs. Hughes hates you,” Evie said. “What if she discovered the truth about you and decided to work with the Bow Street Runner to get rid of you?”
“I don’t know…” Georgie said hesitantly. It wasn’t entirely unplausible. Mrs. Hughes had made no secret of her dislike for her. But would she go to such great lengths?
Evie sat down on the chair. “Did Mrs. Hughes come to see you after the attempted abduction?”
“She did not.”
“It is just something you might want to consider.” Evie smoothed down her pale green gown. “I am glad that you took my advice and slept with a muff pistol under your pillow.”
“As am I,” Georgie said. “Although, the man was taunting me.”
“In what way?”
“He said that he knew I wouldn’t shoot him and threatened to shoot me before returning me to my brother.”
“He was trying to make you doubt yourself.”
“It worked,” Georgie admitted. “I don’t think I would have pulled that trigger, no matter the reason.”
Evie gave her an understanding look. “The time will come when you have to decide what kind of person you are,” she said. “Are you going to save yourself, or hope that someone else will come along to save you?”
“I want to believe I will save myself.”
“Then be that person.”
“It isn’t that easy,” Georgie insisted. “What if I kill someone?”
“Killing is not something that should be done lightly, mind you, but if I had the choice of killing or be killed, I would not hesitate to pull that trigger,” Evie paused, “and neither should you.”
Georgie’s hand went into the folds of her gown, and she retrieved her pistol from her pocket. As she placed it on the desk, she said, “I need to practice more.”
“Practice is always a good thing.”
“Yes, but I have only shot at targets.”
Evie opened her mouth to respond when Lord Grenton stepped into the room, his green eyes holding an intensity she hadn’t seen before.
“You were attacked last night?!” he shouted.
Georgie rose and smiled. “Good morning, Lord Grenton,” she greeted. Maybe she could disarm him with pleasantries.
It did not work.
He approached the desk, giving Evie a small nod as he passed her. “Wilson informed me of the news. What happened?” he demanded.
“Last night, someone broke in and tried to abduct me,” she said, “but he ran off into the night like the coward that he was.”
“How did you stop him?”
