AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t need your help,” she shot back. “I know who is behind it, and I’m prepared to defend both myself and my students.”
“Our students,” he said, looking her squarely in the eye. “Do you think I don’t care about the girls? Am I so heartless a blackguard that I’d want to leave them at risk, knowing their plight? If anything happens to you”—his stomach knotted—“they will be left without their chief help and solace. What will happen to them if you’re killed? London’s orphanages are already overburdened.”
“My benefactor—”
“Will go down with you! Were you not listening when I told you I was deliberately led here? Someone knows, and they want revenge on both you and whoever is helping you.”
Her eyes filled with fear, and her face crumpled. “If Boucher finds out, she will have him murdered! We must warn him, but I don’t know how to do it without risking his exposure. If anything were to happen to him…”
Again, his heart lurched. Is she in love with him? “If it’s as you say and the message you sent tonight is destined to pass through many hands before reaching him, then he may yet remain safe. I need to know who else in your acquaintance might be able to contact him with minimal risk.”
Chapter Twelve
Boucher knows where I am.
A tremor ran through Jacqueline. It had to be her. Even if the messages weren’t a dead giveaway, there was no one else who had cause to hate her so. Because of her, Boucher was a hunted woman.
Tavistoke had made it his personal mission to bring down the madame who’d sold her to Fairford. But it wasn’t for her sake alone that he’d vowed the woman’s destruction. If Emma, Rose, and several others among the school’s students were to be believed, Boucher was no mere brothel proprietress. She was the owner of the infamous Temple of Aurora, an establishment that catered specifically to clientele with a taste for underage flesh.
For nearly three years, Tavistoke had relentlessly worked to shut down the place once and for all. But every time he came close, it had vanished, and Boucher had gone into hiding. A month later, the Aurora would reopen somewhere else in the city. By some mysterious means, its elusive clients always seemed to know its new location. Skilled at concealing their terrible vice, they were almost as hard to find as the Aurora itself—unless they got careless.
Thus far, Tavistoke had managed to ferret out four of the bastards. The information they’d yielded before being dispatched had twice brought him close to catching Boucher. However, it had been nearly three months since her last escape, and he’d heard nothing.
“Headmistress?”
She stared at Woodson. It’s Danbury. His real name is Danbury. Anger—not at him, but at herself—threatened to overwhelm her. As untrusting and careful as she’d been at the outset, she’d still been fooled. Had Providence been any less kind, it might have been a very different sort of man standing before her. “Lady Montgomery can get a message to him,” she answered, dread overtaking her anger. “It’s no secret she’s a personal friend of mine. I visit her frequently. My doing so now would not be seen as irregular.”
“Every person you come in contact with will doubtless be watched,” he replied. “Are you certain this is the best means of communicating with him?”
“I am,” she said in spite of sudden fear on behalf of Sabrina and her family. “I will go tomorrow and behave as if my visit is something planned in advance. One of the older girls can come with me. Anyone watching will think it’s an interview.”
He nodded. “I’ll come, as well.”
“No,” she objected. “That would certainly look suspicious.”
“I disagree. After last night, whoever is watching will expect you to be on your guard against further threats.”
Whoever is watching… Something nagged at the back of Jacqueline’s mind, and she decided to voice the thought aloud. “If Boucher is the one behind these messages and the reason you were sent here, I cannot understand how she discovered this school. Surely not because of me? I’ve not shown my face in public since before I opened it, and I always wear a veil when I go out.”
“You stayed at Mrs. Hayton’s for a time. What of her servants? What of those at Lady Montgomery’s or in the homes of your other acquaintances? Did you keep your veil on at Lady Dibley’s?”
She felt the blood leave her cheeks. “I did not wish to seem impolite and thought those places safe enough to remove it. Surely you don’t suspect anyone at Mrs. Hayton’s? She has had the same servants for years.”
“All of them?” When she failed to answer, he shook his head. “It’s irrelevant anyway. Even if a servant is loyal to his or her employer, that loyalty would not necessarily extend to said employer’s guests or friends. If your Madame Boucher is indeed seeking revenge, it’s likely she circulated a description of you with a promised reward for information regarding your whereabouts. All it would take is one sighting. Tell me, have you received any threats prior to the message written on the board?”
“Well, there was that business with Feeny, but—”
“What business?”
“He threatened to ruin me after he was convicted.”
“Has he ever seen your face?”
“Yes. As did everyone who saw me give testimony against him—I was not allowed to wear my veil.” Another thought occurred to her. “So has MacCallum—and a few of his men.” Her spirits sank. “Now that I think on it, a good many strangers have seen me.”
A muscle leaped in his jaw. “And what of the staff here? Are there any new faces—besides my own, I mean?”
“Other than Dr. Horton, only one. Sally, a kitchen maid—you’ve met her. She spoke to your students about bargaining for goods. Mrs. Sloane hired her a few days before you came about the teaching position.”
