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Bobby had seen Terrance slide the pictures surreptitiously into his pocket as she’d left the table last night, and she’d taken a chance he still had them on him. It was obvious he hadn’t been home for a good grooming and change of clothes since the club—the stench of him was indication enough.
William, growing more the stern older brother by the moment, turned severely to him. “Give them to him, Terrance.”
With a growl deep in his throat, Terrance yanked the folded paper out of his coat pocket and thrust it at Bobby. She glanced inside to see that, indeed, all the photographs were there before she tucked them neatly into her own pocket.
Bobby tipped her hat to both of them. “Behave yourselves, gentlemen. Oh, just a friendly hint—I’d stay far from Mr. Moody were I you. I have the feeling things are going to become very bad for him. Up to you, of course.”
She slapped her hat back to her head and swung away, hurrying to catch up with Judith.
Judith, ahead of her, moved briskly, her skirt swaying with her smart, upright walk. Bobby’s heart flooded with joy to watch her. She loved this gifted, clever, and generous woman who could put anyone in their place. Bobby now and always blessed the day that Cynthia had introduced her to the wonderful Judith.
Chapter Five
Judith, true to her word, never set foot in the Commercial Road. She sent a flurry of telegrams instead, one to a known associate of Daniel McAdam.
That associate was Mr. Fielding, who on the surface was a respectable vicar, but who’d at one time lived on the other side of the law. Mr. Fielding—or his associates—would know how to find Mr. Joseph Moony of Shadwell, and indeed, he did just that.
Two days after their meeting with Terrance and William, Bobby accompanied Judith to a vicarage in the heart of the East End. Mrs. Holloway, informed by Judith that they’d cornered the man causing Lady Coulson so much heartbreak, had insisted on joining them.
Mrs. Holloway carried a box that Bobby suspected held one of her feather-light cakes. Not for them, Bobby surmised, as the box on her lap remained firmly closed and tied with a string during the coach ride across London.
Mrs. H. had changed a bit since Bobby had first met her a few years ago. Instead of trying to hide her shock at Bobby’s comfort in men’s dress, she now accepted Bobby as she was. Mrs. Holloway was good at that, Bobby reflected. She saw the truth of a person and didn’t require that person to change to suit her expectations.
Mrs. Holloway was much more disapproving of Mr. Fielding, however, who was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was a slim man, handsome, some ladies would think, with a trim beard and lively blue eyes.
Mr. Fielding met them in the parlor of his vicarage as his long-suffering housekeeper hauled in a loaded tea tray. Bobby sprang up to take the tray, setting it on the tea table in front of Mrs. Holloway. The housekeeper had also brought in the cake, which Mrs. Holloway had handed her upon their arrival, now sliced on a plate.
Mr. Moody was present, sullenly planted on a straight-backed chair. He did not rise when the ladies entered. Mr. Fielding leaned one shoulder against the wall next to Moody, seemingly nonchalant, but Bobby felt Mr. Fielding’s tension crackle.
“Is this to be an interrogation by skirts?” Moody shifted his gaze over Mrs. Holloway and Judith, who’d seated herself next to Mrs. H., and let it come to rest on Bobby. “That one should be in skirts. Thinks no one knows.”
Bobby hid her start. She’d sensed Moody’s keen observation at the club but believed he’d dismissed her. Now his assessing gaze held avarice, as though he wondered how much he could blackmail Bobby for.
“Keep a civil tongue.” Mr. Fielding’s voice was deceptively mild.
Moody flinched, which made Bobby wonder what Fielding had done to get the man here and make him behave relatively tamely.
Mrs. Holloway, unasked, poured out tea, carefully adding milk and sugar to each cup. Judith handed the cups and pieces of the cake around, as though she served tea at the vicarage every day of her life.
Mr. Fielding took Moody’s portion from Judith’s hands and shoved it at the man, which kept Judith from having to go near him. Bobby nodded her thanks at Mr. Fielding, who gave her a hint of a nod in return.
“Now then, Mr. Moody,” Mrs. Holloway began. She was a cook, a woman in service, and yet she effortlessly commanded the room. “I am thankful to Mr. Fielding for inviting you here, so that I may speak with you. I would like you to cease your acquaintanceship with the Honorable Mr. Terrance and the Honorable Mr. William Makepeace. Forgive Mr. Terrance’s debts to you, break the association, and trouble them no more.”
Moody’s bearded face went slack with surprise, then his lips began to twitch. “Oh, yes? I should do that for you? Why?”
“Because it is the right thing,” the unflappable Katherine Holloway returned. “The two young gentlemen do not need you dragging them to their ruin.”
Moody’s lip twitching became a full-blown smile. “To their ruin? I have that much power, do I? If I drop the lads, what do I get in return? They owe me nearly a thousand pounds. Eh, love? What’ll you give me?”
His leer had Bobby almost on her feet. She hadn’t actually punched Terrance’s nose, but she saw no reason to hold back on this man.
Mr. Fielding swallowed a sip of tea. “A civil tongue, I said.” The flint in his voice made Moody abruptly lose his smile.
“You will have nothing in return,” Mrs. Holloway informed Moody. “But turn your attention to other tasks, please.”
“Bloody hell.” Moody glared up at Mr. Fielding. “You ain’t police. I’ll do what I choose, and it’s no business of this woman with a teapot.”
Mr. Fielding emitted a sound like a growl, and Moody snapped his mouth closed.
