“The hanging!” a man replied breathlessly. “Francis Sinclair was not there!”
A shard of ice lodged itself in her chest, and tingles of unease raced down her gloved fingers.
Her colleagues dashed about, no doubt preparing an article for tomorrow’s paper, but Maria was stuck. Francis hadn’t made it to the hanging. Lord, but the man was vile, capable of any number of cruelties, and he would undoubtedly seek revenge on Juliana and Jasper.
No, indeed, she reminded herself. He would no longer come for just Juliana and Jasper. After the events of the past months, Maria knew the bestial, brutish games of which Francis was capable, and he would not limit himself to just his cousins. He would target anyone with whom they associate. That put Maria squarely in the line of his ire.
“Oh! Duncan—er, Mr. Robertson—I’ve a missive for you.”
Maria blinked, the secretary’s voice jolting her out of her reverie.
“Good day, Cordelia,” Maria said, doffing her hat and offering a short bow at as she neared.
Maria felt a connection to the woman, who regrettably knew only one side of Maria. She grinned and accepted the folded piece of parchment. “Thank you. How was your day?”
Cordelia’s auburn eyebrows bunched together in consternation, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I fear our superiors must be displeased with me. I’m absolutely certain that I’ve done nothing incorrectly but, as you know, they’ve recently requested that I replace Higgs in bookkeeping—in addition to continuing my position here.” Her lips thinned and she leaned closer. “Well, I was double-checking the cost of ink—to ensure we weren’t overcharged in our recent order, you see—and I happened to note that Higgs had been paid thrice my current wages, for just the one job.”
Maria’s heart sank as she watched worry and dejection swim in her friend’s green eyes. While Maria knew about the disparity in men and women’s wages, it hurt to know just how much it impacted Cordelia.
Perhaps…
“Have you considered,” she began in an undertone, “an alternate vocation?”
Cordelia shook her head with a pained grimace. “I wish that I could, but I can ill afford to lose this position.”
Tapping her gloved index finger on the desk, Maria made a swift decision. “Allow me to think on it. I might be able to offer my assistance.”
“Truly? Oh, thank you!” A bright smile lit Cordelia’s features as she waved Maria off.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk outsideThe Morning Heraldoffices, Maria lifted her arm to hail a hack, the motion pulling on the binding tightly wrapped around her breasts. By the end of the work day, the blasted thing grew tiresome. But it was necessary.
A gust of cool wind tugged at her coat and her queue, the darkening grey sky threatening rain. With a heartyclip-clopand the clatter of wheels on cobblestone, a hack stopped. Maria gave the driver the direction, and entered, more than content to finally be on her way home.
Flipping over the parchment in her hand, she glanced at the direction and instantly recognized the halting scrawl. Eagerly tearing open the seal, she scanned the first sentence.
The lagoon waswarm and deep, the water an almost opalescent blue, somehow reflecting the sun even from within the cave…
She sighed.It was perfect. Her friend had answered her question and confirmed her research. They’d met at the opera years ago, when the woman and her brother had journeyed from Gibraltar to visit a Spanish uncle who had purchased a home in London. Before they returned home, she and Maria had exchanged directions and frequently corresponded.
Butthis. This information was precisely what she required to conclude her next chapter. Despite the dangers—and the tides—her principal character would secret treasure away deep in a lagoon… Her next chapter, however, would have to be delayed until Maria had spoken to Juliana and sorted out the business of Francis’ escape from custody.
Her abdomen buzzed with trepidation, and she silently urged the driver to increase their pace.
Undoubtedly, their offices on Bow Street would hear the news of Francis Sinclair before the article was printed on the morrow. Maria had been welcomed in by Grace Huntsbury—the woman behind the business—but had not yet been given command of her first assignment. Would capturing Francis and returning him to gaol be her first? What would Jasper think of her involvement?
She clucked her tongue, the sound scarcely audible over the thundering of horses’ hooves and the rattle of the hack’s wheels on the cobblestones. Jasper would berate her, as usual, but beneath it all, he would be frightened. That underlying concern for her safety, and the safety of others, was what redeemed him during those irksome moments. Drat the man.
Another deep sigh escaped her. He’d surely been there to witness the hanging of his cousins and secure himself a sense of conclusion. How had he taken the news of Francis’ escape?
The hack jostled around a corner, and Maria put a hand out to stabilize herself. They turned off Wafting Street onto Bread Street, and she drummed her fingers on her thigh. It was at this time that she ordinarily felt the buzz of anticipation in her middle, but today was different.
Voices rang out around her: the bartering of goods, tittering of young women, trotting of horses’ hooves, rolling carriage wheels, and the faint wails of newly born babes.
Upon rocking to a halt, Maria quit the hack and paid the driver, breathing deeply the scent of horses, coal smoke, and manure. The buildings lining the street were coal-darkened and ever so slightly crooked. And she adored it.
Home.
Her apartments were on the third floor of a building with a cobbler as its ground floor shop front. Maria did so adore her home in Cheapside, and she rather lamented the fact that she had to return to her parents’ house every eve. Would that she could live here with Thomas, regardless of the perils of Cheapside at night.
