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Minerva nodded. “You have heard of her?”
“Ye gads. Of course I ’ave. Every-bloomin’-one has heard of Madame Rose.” Tibby rose and took the basin and the now pink-stained water to the window. She pushed the glass pane open with the barest of nudges of her elbow and then tipped the water out without a care if anyone was below.
Since there were no shouts from the street, Minerva smiled and held her tongue. She couldn’t read the girl. What did Tibby think of Madame Rose?
Tibby put the basin back upon the table in the corner and went to open the door, and in came the brute of a man, all sweaty and with a cupboard strapped to his back. “Where ye be wantin’ this one?”
Minerva had excellent hearing, yet she’d not noticed any loud grunts or footfalls from the giant hauling the furniture into her room.
Tibby pointed and said, “Next to the door.”
The man straightened and placed the large piece of furniture exactly where Tibby had instructed. The young woman then picked up Minerva’s spoils of the day and tossed the man an apple. “Me thanks, Grant. I’ll be lookin’ on Maci as soon as I’m done ’ere.”
Minerva waited for the man to leave and then said, “You’re a healer.”
“Wot if I am?”
“It’s no wonder you are so bossy.” Minerva grinned. “Just like my brother Gregory.”
Tibby turned. “He’s the one studying to be a physician, is he not?”
“He is.”
With a shake of her head, Tibby went to a small box set upon the small dining table. She pulled out a set of plates, cups, saucers, and a teapot, and carefully placed them inside the cabinet. “It’s not much, but ye’ve got enough to survive for the short respite you wished for.” Staring at Minerva, Tibby tilted her head and smiled. “Never in a thousand years would I have guessed ye were Madame Rose.” Still in a state of disbelief, she shook her head, grabbed her cloak, and headed for the door.
Minerva called out, “Will you be back?”
“Wot ye want now?” Tibby turned and stared at Minerva.
Forcing her lips to curve into a fake smile, Minerva replied, “Nothing. I was simply making an inquiry.” Wandering the streets this afternoon had taught Minerva a lesson she’d not forget anytime soon—you could be all alone even when surrounded by many.
“I’ll be back.” Tibby closed the door and then popped her head back in. “I’ll bring ye some honey and a kettle for tea.”
Minerva rested her head back and sighed, exhausted from her emotions continuously volleying from highs to lows over the past few days. She had prided herself on her keen ability to adapt, yet faced with the realities of an entirely new social system, Minerva found herself more confused and undecided.
She looked about the room. None of it was gilded, but it was functional. She’d never backed down from a challenge, and she wasn’t going to start now. She had days to learn how to maneuver within her new setting. It was a challenge she both wanted and feared.
Chapter Nineteen
The gel hehad been trailing for the past three hours was running Anthony ragged. As day turned into night, he shortened the distance he maintained to keep out of sight, but the young woman was astute, always checking her surroundings for threats. Who was she?
This whole debacle began when he had snuck into Minerva’s rooms at the Malbury townhouse and confirmed she was indeed missing. To his surprise, he also noted Minerva’s most trusted footman, Jack, was going about his daily duties as if nothing was amiss. Jack was no ordinary footman. No, the man was Minerva’s personal guard. Which raised the question, why the devil was he not with Minerva?
Anthony had hidden in the gardens to watch the back service entrance for some clue as to where or how he’d be able to track Minerva down. Legs cramped, he’d been ready to give up when the slight young gel, hood pulled down to cover her features, appeared and summoned Jack. Her back was to him, so Anthony could only read Jack’s lips and caught half of the conversation, which was not entirely helpful, since the footman was adept at covert communications. Whatever information the woman was sharing, Jack appeared displeased with it.
Trusting his intuition, Anthony had left his post in the gardens and followed the woman, who was still leading him to and fro about Town. With each passing hour, his hope that Jack’s visitor would lead him to Minerva dwindled.
He tipped his hat lower as they left Mayfair and entered King’s Square. It mattered not whose door the woman rapped on; she was always admitted with swift, eager anticipation. Deciphering the reason for her visits kept Anthony preoccupied while he waited for her to reappear. However, with each residence they visited, the possibilities for her gallivanting all over London increased rather than narrowed.
Lost in thought, he nearly lost sight of his target as she ducked into another side alley.
He quickened his pace as he wandered through King’s Square.
King’s Square.
Anthony froze in his tracks. King’s Square sat in between Mayfair and the artisan district that housed art studios, playhouses, galleries…and the theatre. What a dunderhead he’d been following the gel all afternoon, when he should have headed for Wembley Hall and begun his investigations there. Damn woman.
Anthony swiveled and took off in the opposite direction. An image of Minerva disguised as Madame Rose flashed before him. His heart raced. Not from the fact that he’d begun to jog, but from the memory of his kiss with Madame Rose. The kiss that had haunted his dreams and plagued his thoughts daily for years, evoking guilt and pleasure that he couldn’t dispel.
