Page 108 of When We Touch

Maggie shook her head, trying to maintain a sense of calm. “Fiona, with her looks, with the finery she wears, she would have been a victim of some thief... or worse. Almost instantly.”

Fiona shook her head strenuously. “No . . . she had clothing, poor clothing. We rented a room, a rat trap! And we went and traded even the servants’ things we brought.”

Maggie stood. “We’re going to that room right now. And if we don’t find her there, we’ll go to the pub.” She rose, truly alarmed. Then she spun back. “Fiona, what was she trying to do in Whitechapel?”

Fiona hesitated. “She wanted to work for a mesmerist.”

“A mesmerist?”

“You know . . . a mesmerist, or a spiritualist.”

“Why?” Maggie said, frowning. “Was she trying . . . to contact her father?”

Once again, Fiona shook her head miserably. “She wanted . . . she wanted to lure you to this person, and . . . I’m not sure what then,” Fiona said.

Maggie stiffened. She could well imagine what Arianna would envision for her.

And still . . .

“Dress as poorly as you can. And hurry. We’ve got to find her.” Maggie went running out of the room. As she suspected, the housekeeper, Mrs. Whitley, was back up the stairs—hovering very close to Arianna’s door. Eavesdropping.

“Mrs. Whitley, please—just get out of my way!” Maggie told her.

She literally moved the woman, managing not to shove her, and raced on down the stairs, bursting into the library.

“Mireau!”

“Yes?”

“We’ve got to get back to Whitechapel. Now!”

“But Maggie—”

“Find Darby. Have him help you get into some shabby clothing, and be quick!”

“But Maggie! Jamie will have your throat—”

“He will have to hang me, then. Wait, we need more than just the right clothing.”

“Oh, God, Maggie . . . we can’t do this. What, have you lost your mind?”

“Mireau, Arianna is there, somewhere.”

“What?”

“Fiona has been confessing to me, Mireau. She’s been out there several days; she met with a mesmerist, a spiritualist, knowing that I would be tempted to come, once I heard about the operations.”

“Maggie, you can’t just go running around the streets of Whitechapel.”

“You’re right, we must go in more than poor clothing. We’re going to have to be seriously disguised.”

“Maggie, we’re all going to get into serious trouble. This is a matter for the police.”

“Mireau! First, we’ve got to try to find her. If we go barging in somewhere with the police, I’m afraid we could put her life in danger. Fiona knows where they took a room—”

“They took a room? In the East End?” he said incredulously.

“Mireau, please, just move!”