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The shorter, plump lady shook out her skirts and smiled at Helen. “Since she said she’s the housekeeper, Sophie, and since she was sweeping the step as we arrived, I think we must assume that Alistair has indeed obtained a housekeeper.”
“Hmm,” was all the tall lady said to that. “You might as well show us in, girl. I doubt Alistair has a decent room, but we’re staying nonetheless.”
Helen felt her face warm. It’d been quite a while since she’d last been called a girl, but the lady didn’t seem to mean anything by it.
“I’m sure I can find something,” she said, not sure at all. If she set the maids to cleaning two of the spare rooms right away, they might be ready by nightfall. Might.
“Perhaps we ought to introduce ourselves,” the shorter lady murmured.
“Should we?” wondered her companion.
“Yes.” Was the firm reply.
o;The man never gives up,” Lord Hasselthorpe said with contempt. “I predict we’ll dismiss it with hardly any debate. What do you say, Your Grace?”
Lister contemplated the glass of brandy he held in his hand. They were in Hasselthorpe’s study, a pleasant enough room, even if it was done in purple and pink. Hasselthorpe was a sober man with a cool head on his shoulders and the ambition of obtaining the prime minister’s seat—perhaps very soon—but he had a nitwit for a wife. She’d probably done the decorating.
Lister looked at his host. “Wheaton’s bill is pure nonsense, of course. Think what a pension for every idiot who’s ever served in His Majesty’s army would cost this government. But there may be some popular support for the thing.”
“Come, sir, you don’t truly believe it might pass?” Blanchard looked aghast.
“Pass, no,” Lister said. “But there may be a fight. Have you read the pamphlets circulating on the street?”
“The rhetoric of pamphleteers is hardly sophisticated,” Hasselthorpe scoffed.
“No, but they do sway the coffeehouse regulars.” Lister frowned. “And recent events in the Colonies during the war with the French have brought the fate of the common soldier to the forefront of people’s minds. Atrocities such as the massacre at Spinner’s Falls make some wonder if our soldiers are paid enough.”
Hasselthorpe leaned slightly forward. “My brother was killed at Spinner’s Falls. The idea of the massacre being used as some bully point in a pamphleteer’s spouting makes me sick, sir.”
Lister shrugged. “I agree. I merely point out the opposition we will face to defeating this bill.”
Blanchard made his chair creak again as he went into a long ramble about drunken soldiers and thieves, but Lister was distracted. Henderson had cracked the door to the room and poked his head in.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Lister said, interrupting whatever Blanchard was babbling about.
He barely waited for the other gentlemen’s nods before rising and going to the door. “What?”
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, for disturbing you,” Henderson whispered nervously, “but I have news about a certain lady’s flight.”
Lister glanced over his shoulder. Hasselthorpe’s and Blanchard’s heads were together, and in any case, it was doubtful they could hear him. He turned back to his secretary. “Yes?”
“She and the children were sighted in Edinburgh, Your Grace, not much more than a week ago.”
Edinburgh? Interesting. He wasn’t aware that Helen knew anyone in Scotland. Had she found someplace in Edinburgh to stay, or was she traveling on from there?
He focused once more on Henderson. “Good. Send a dozen more men. I want them to scour Edinburgh, find out if she’s still there, and if she isn’t, where the hell she went.”
Henderson bowed. “Very well, Your Grace.”
And Lister allowed himself a very small smile. The distance between the hunter and the prey had narrowed. Soon, very soon, he’d hold Helen’s sweet neck between his hands.
Chapter Seven
One evening as Truth Teller guarded the monster, the young man did not come at the expected hour. The sun lowered and set, the shadows lengthened in the yew knot garden, and the swallows stopped fluttering and found perches in their cage. When Truth Teller peered at the monster, he saw something pale behind the bars. Curious, he walked closer, and to his astonishment saw that the monster had disappeared. In its place lay a nude woman, her long black hair spread around her like a cloak.
At that moment, the beautiful young man ran panting into the castle courtyard, crying, “Go! Go now!”
Truth Teller obediently turned to leave, but his master called behind him, “Have you seen aught to frighten you today?”
