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“Please do not hurry on my account,” Baldwin encouraged.
He watched as Sarah hurried across the room and stopped to speak to the older man before she disappeared through a back door.
Baldwin sat back in his chair. He had garnered the information he needed by speaking kindly to the waitress. Men often overlooked women, who noticed more than they ever let on. He had learned prostitutes were the greatest source of information, because men would often brag to them about their exploits. Sometimes it was too easy to discover what he needed to know, costing him only a few coins in the process.
Perhaps he would bring Oliver back with him later this evening in hopes of rooting out the radicals. After doing so, he would infiltrate them, and they would lead him to the French spy. If all went according to his plan, this mission would be wrapped up in less than a week.
The door to the coffeehouse opened, and a young woman with an elaborate chignon walked confidently into the hall. She was dressed in a pale blue gown, marking her as a woman of means. With an oval face, delicate features, and green eyes that appeared defiant and intense, she was a vision of perfection.
The room went silent as all eyes turned to look at her expectantly, many of them lewdly perusing her body.
To his astonishment, the young woman appeared to grow more determined by the attention she was garnering. “I would like to speak to the man in charge,” she said firmly.
A man at a table next to him shouted, “Come here, pretty little thing. I will be whatever you want me to be!”
She jutted out her chin. “I do not appreciate your insinuation,” she remarked in a haughty tone.
The man laughed at her indignation.
Sarah walked out of the back room and saw the young woman standing in front of the door. “Settle down!” she exclaimed to the group. “Ye have all seen a lady before.”
“Not as pretty as her!” another man yelled.
Shaking her head, Sarah approached the young woman and started conversing with her. It was a long moment before she bobbed her head.
Sarah started weaving between the tables and the young woman followed. They both disappeared up a set of stairs in the back of the room.
Curious as to what this young woman wanted, Baldwin rose from his chair and headed up the stairs. He had just stepped into the hall when he heard someone knocking on a door around the corner, followed by Sarah saying, “Mrs. Hardy. It is me, Sarah.”
Baldwin flattened himself against the wall and crept closer to the edge of the hall. He could hear the door creak open and an unfamiliar voice asked in a slightly muffled voice, “Is everything all right?”
“Your daughter is missing from the orphanage,” another voice said. He assumed this was the young woman from downstairs. “I was hoping she was with you.”
“No, she is not. I rarely see Edith since she moved into the orphanage,” the woman said.
“Do you know where she could be?” the young woman asked.
Silence.
“Do not fret,” the young woman attempted, but he could hear the strain in her voice. “The constable and a Bow Street Runner will be on the case, and they will find her shortly.”
“What will we do about money until then?” the woman asked.
Baldwin peered around the corner and saw the young woman reach into her reticule. She pulled something out and extended it towards the woman.
“This should help until Edith returns home.”
“Thank you,” the woman said in a grateful tone. “You have no idea how much this means to me and my daughter.”
“You are more than welcome.”
The woman stepped into the hall and lowered her voice. At that moment, loud, boisterous laughter came from downstairs, blocking out the conversation between the women.
Baldwin watched as the woman disappeared back into her room and closed the door. He realized he had better leave or he would be discovered.
He hurried down the stairs and returned to his chair. As he reached for his now cool cup of coffee, he saw Sarah and the young woman descending the narrow stairs.
Three men rose from a table in the corner and went to approach the young woman as she stepped off the stairs.
