“No, milady.” The maid pulled a skeleton key from her apron. She unlocked and opened the door. “He’s been out since yesterday afternoon, mum.”
Kitty did a quick sweep of the room. Collin was, indeed, absent. His travel case lay open, but it looked as if little, if anything, had been removed. Someone had turned his bed down, but it did not appear slept in.
Collin hadn’t spent the night here? But he had returned, had he not? The note she received from him eschewing dinner in favor of bed had been written in his hand.
Concerned and confounded, Kitty thanked the maid, and turned away. She headed straight for the dining hall. There she did a perfunctory check for her brother, knowing full well she wouldn’t find him.
Minutes later, she set out at a vigorous clip. Something was very wrong here. Ever since Collin saw that man, Peters, he’d acted off.
If she was being honest, Collin had seemed different since his return. He had a coldness about him. She chalked it up to his traumatic experiences.
The day was gloriously sunny, a perfect day for festival revelry, and crowds swarmed the streets. The sounds of laughter caused a sick feeling to invade her stomach. Collin had brought her here as a respite from her upcoming trial, as she saw it. If something happened to him because of her…
But he had to be all right. She’d only just gotten him back. She redoubled her efforts, pressing through the clogged streets, her destination clear.
Resolve filled her as she spied the tobacco shop, behind which she’d lost Mr Peters. No one paid her any mind as she strode for the alley entrance.
Standing at the edge of the shadowed, narrow passageway, Zeke’s warning against doing anything foolish flashed in her mind. He wouldn’t be pleased with her right now. But what else she could do?
She took a bracing breath, and stepped into dark shadow. To her great relief no foul odor of urine greeted her. No broken glass crunched beneath her booted feet. No bats swooped.
She inched forward, letting her eyes adjust, sliding her fingers over the bricked wall to her left.
At what she guessed marked the half way point of the alley, a door crashed open. Raucous male laughter poured from the unknown establishment, and a pair of men clothed in gentleman's garb stumbled out. They appeared too intent on holding each other upright to notice her.
They started for the opposite end of the alley.
Before she could second guess herself, she called to them. “Excuse me, gentlemen?”
Two heads jerked around to gaze in her direction.
“Mr. Hawthorn, do you see a lady there? Or have my losses brought on hallucinations?”
“I do indeed, Mr. Stone. I do indeed.” The man called Hawthorn raised his voice a little. “My dear lady, have you lost your way? There’s no friar down this road, I can assure you.”
The men’s hardy snickers caused them to wobble all the more.
Kitty strode toward them with more bravado than she felt.
Up close, the pair reeked of spirits and stale tobacco smoke. She barely resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose.
“Actually, I have a brother who’s lost.”
The men exchanged glances, then guffawed uproariously.
“A brother, she says, Mr. Stone.”
“So she did,” Mr. Stone agreed. He stepped toward Kitty, tripping over his own slow feet, and fell into the brick fascia to his right. Evidently opting to rest there, he plopped his head in his hand, and gave her a smug grin. “Sure it’s not a missing husband you’re after?”
She blinked. “Positive.”
Mr. Stone shrugged. “Why would you be looking here for your brother, miss?”
She decided to go with the truth as far as she knew it. “I saw Mr Peters come this way yesterday. He and my brother are friends.”
“Peters? Peters ain’t nobody’s friend. Mr Hawthorne, let’s be off.”
They turned and resumed their plodding egress.
