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“Why did you leave Hercules at the castle? You do know that they’ll see it as a sign that you want further contact with them?”
Averil stared. Her heart gave a thump. “I left him for Eustace, because he begged me to. There was nothing else to it, Beth. I certainly didn’t do it because I wanted anyone to chase after me.”
But Beth shook her head and turned away.
Averil closed the door behind her and stood a moment on the landing. She hadn’t left Hercules for any reason but the one she’d stated. Had she? Subconsciously was she hoping that Rufus would follow her with the dog? She knew how much he disliked Hercules. Could one make a decision without one’s consciousness knowing about it?
Just for a moment hope fluttered inside her, but she quashed it. Brutally.
Rufus wouldn’t come. Of course he wouldn’t. He was probably seeking out another rich wife by now. She must not imagine for a moment there was a chance they could reconcile, no matter how much that hurt.
It was over.
Rufus leaned against the wall in his shabbiest coat and pulled an equally shabby cap down over his eyes. He always thought it was remarkable that, with the right clothes, he could disappear into the background. No one even glanced at him twice. Slouched shoulders and head bent, eyes on the cobbles at his feet, and he became the sort of man that others allowed to go on his way.
He’d thought of Averil all the way to London, dreaming of arriving at her doorstep and taking her in his arms, but he knew he couldn’t just turn up. What would that solve? It might cause her to harden her heart against him even more. No, the thing to do was to complete his mission for her. To show her he was to be trusted. He would use his skills as a Guardian to discover just what was going on with the Home, and he would find Rose, Averil’s lost sister.
When he did that, when he’d presented her sister to her on a plate, how could she still be angry with him? And when he told her about the castle and his intention to sell, then surely she would throw her arms about him and all would be well?
At least, that was his hope. If he went home without her he dreaded to think what James and Eustace would do to him. Lock him deep in the castle dungeons probably. And he rather thought he would like to be locked down there, sunk in gloom and brokenhearted. It was what he deserved.
Over the past two weeks he’d followed Jackson and watched him meet with several of the women from the Home. An hour ago he’d seen Jackson bundle one of the women, a pretty little thing with bright eyes and curling hair, into a hackney cab and drive off with her. Now he was waiting outside the house they’d driven to until Jackson and the woman came out again.
He shuffled his feet. A skinny boy came up to him with his hand out, but a scowl sent him on his way again. The boy made him think of Eustace, and he took note of where the boy went, to the opposite corner, so that he could throw a coin his way when his watch was over.
Movement at the door of the house caught his eye and he made sure to keep his cap low while still managing to see. There was Jackson and the woman . . . but no, it wasn’t the woman he’d gone in with. It was Sally Jakes!
Rufus watched as redheaded Sally paused to call some final instructions back into the house, and then she caught hold of Jackson’s arm and they were heading down the steps and onto the street. A moment later he had hailed a cab and helped her into it, and watched as it rattled off. Jackson shoved his hands into his pockets and set off along the street on foot.
Rufus waited until he was out of sight before he strolled casually across to the house and climbed the steps to the front door.
A woman in a sober dress and with genteel manners let him inside, but he was not fooled. This was a brothel, a rather high-class one, but a brothel nonetheless. When he asked to spend some time with the woman who had just arrived, she was wary, but he put on his best aristocratic manner and soon persuaded her. She led him upstairs to a dimly lit room. A bed with gaudy crimson hangings and overstuffed pillows took up a prominent position.
“Betty! This gentleman asked for you particularly, so be a good girl to him.”
The door closed on them. Betty had been hurriedly combing her hair, but when she turned and saw who it was, her eyes grew big and frightened. She remembered him from the Home, of course, and it only took a moment for her to start to cry and then admit to what had happened. Rufus felt sorry for her, but less so when he saw the sly glance she gave him as she was mopping her eyes, to see if he was taken in.
He paid her for her silence, and was soon outside again, where the skinny boy caught the coin he tossed and gave him a grin. Rufus was in a buoyant mood. He knew now what was going on. He knew why women were going missing, and he could even take a guess as to why one of them had died.
He had to stop it before it went any further. Before anyone else was hurt. He still had friends in authority, but Rufus thought it was only fair to let Dr. Simmons know first, before he called in the constables. He lengthened his stride in the direction of the Home for Distressed Women.
Averil was on her way to another sewing lesson in the common room, when she noticed Violet sneaking out of the back door. She opened her mouth to call out, but there was something so furtive about her that Averil changed her mind and remained silent. Where was Violet going? She was usually waiting for sewing—it was one of the few lessons, besides cooking, that she liked to participate in.
Since they’d returned to the East End, Violet had been even more anxious and sullen. Gone was the girl she thought she had grown to know at Southbrook Castle, and she found she missed the camaraderie that had grown up between them. When she had tried to ask Violet again what was wrong, the girl had stared at her as if she were insane and then turned her back.
Should she follow? Violet wouldn’t like it, but perhaps this was her way of discovering just what the girl was hiding from her.
A moment later she was following her down the narrow alley that led away from the Home and into the myriad of streets surrounding it.
At first she kept well back, so that she wouldn’t be seen, but Violet didn’t seem to be interested in looking behind her. She was intent on making her way through the crowded narrow lanes as quickly as possible. Twice Averil almost lost her, and then they turned into a courtyard she remembered, and she realized they were nearing The Tin Soldier.
This was where Rufus had carried her in his arms that memorable night.
Averil stumbled, and told her thoughts to behave themselves. No time now for maudlin memories, she needed all her wits to keep track of Violet.
A moment later they reached their destination, and it was indeed The Tin Soldier. Violet had told her she did visit here sometimes, to check if any of the women from the Home were here, but the way in which the girl was behaving now seemed far too suspicious to have such a simple explanation. Averil hid behind a water trough, chewing on her lip and looking up at the building dubiously. The gambling house was not as she remembered it, but then she had last seen it at night, and the darkness had hidden a multitude of sins.
Violet rattled the door and after a moment it opened and she slipped inside. Averil stared after her, wondering what to do next, and then she noticed that whoever had let Violet in hadn’t latched the door properly behind her. It was slightly ajar.
