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“Elsa.” Mina walked behind the handsome mahogany bar that lined one of the walls and rummaged under the counter. “Ah, here we are. A record book.” She placed the book on the bar and opened it, thumbing through the pages. “Elsa Bickerstaff, barmaid.”
“Bickerstaff.” The headwaiter at his club. He remembered the bitterness in Bickerstaff’s voice when he’d spoken about Rafe. The opportunities the waiter had to overhear the secrets of powerful men.
“We’re going to my club,” he said.
Mina waited impatiently in the carriage for Drew to return. Of course she hadn’t been allowed inside the club because it was a male-only establishment. The Mayfair Ladies Knitting League would surely have many things to say about that.
He’d been gone for a quarter of an hour at least.
He’d said that he suspected the headwaiter at the club of extorting him because Elsa was his niece. This Bickerstaff, and MissLachance, could be working together.
But if they were, then why would Bickerstaff reveal the name of her establishment? Wouldn’t he know that was the first place they’d go for news of Lord Rafe?
Or perhaps Bickerstaff didn’t know that Lord Rafe had disappeared.
Finally, Drew returned. When he joined her in the carriage, he sat next to her instead of across from her. The leather upholstery groaned under his weight. Mina slid toward him on the now sloping seat.
He draped his arm across the seat behind her. One slight shift and she would be flush against him, his arm around her.
Attraction sizzled up her spine. The urge to slide against him, fit her body into the crook of his arm, was nearly overwhelming.
The carriage began moving.
“Well?” she asked. “What happened?”
“I was right. Bickerstaff sent the letter. Poor man,” he said, shaking his head.
“Poor man? He’s an extortionist. He threatened to kidnap Lady Beatrice.”
“An empty threat. I don’t think he realized how truly terrifying it would be for me. He certainly didn’t expect me to leave Cornwall and come to London. Beatrice had the right of it. She surmised that the author of the letter was hoping to conduct the whole affair from a safe distance.”
“Why did he do it? Did he hold a grudge against Lord Rafe?”
“He holds a grudge against every arrogant, unmannerly lord he serves. He said to me, ‘Do you think I want to be a headwaiter my entire life? Do you think I live to serve you and your privileged, puffed-up friends?’”
“You had him sacked, I assume. Or you called for the Metropolitan Police?”
“I didn’t.”
“Drew. Really?”
“In exchange for my allowing him to keep the money, he promised never to extort anyone again.”
“You let him keep the money?” Mina smacked his shoulder lightly. “Why don’t you just write him into your will while you’re at it?”
“At first I was angry. I grabbed him by the collar and pressed him against a wall. That’s when the whole story came out. He needed money desperately. His brother is dying of tuberculosis and doesn’t have long to live. He’ll use the money to provide for his brother’s seven children. He showed me their portraits, all seven of them. Beautiful children.”
“One of whom is Elsa, I take it?”
“She was the one who alerted him to Rafe’s injudicious engagement to MissLachance. I made him promise never to resort to extortion again and that I’d hear about it if he did. I told him that I’d employ one of his nephews if they were likely lads.”
“Drew.” She shook her head. “You big soft lug.”
“I’m not soft.”
“Your heart is all soft and squishy.”
“It’s not.”
