Hmm.She normally did not meet strangers out at night, but his dangle that he had information on the recent murders was enticing.She knew the owner of the Green Door.James Folger had been a long-time informant for her, always full of good gossip, seeing as his tavern was across the street from one of the city’s most rowdy gaming clubs.The ask for money was typical and led her to think that the man perhaps actually did have some information to pass on.Haggling over the price of a good tip was one of her favorite things, especially with someone new.
Her tidbits of gossip came from people of all walks of life.Certainly, servants trying to earn extra quid, but also from bored wallflowers that no one noticed, but who noticed everything around them.Bartenders, coaching inn owners, and, of course, other reporters.As the saying goes, there was no honor among thieves, and she had cultivated friends across the city.This wasn’t just a piece of gossip; this could be a clue to exposing a murderer.It would be worth the risk.
She smoothed a hand over Robert’s dark hair.He would be fast asleep by the time she had to leave.Happy to have a quiet afternoon ahead of her to spend with her son, she hummed a happy tune and reached for the next piece of correspondence.
Chapter Six
“Why were youyelling at that woman in the churchyard?”Stella asked him as Matthew handed her down from their carriage in front of the Blue Angel.
“I was not yelling at her.We were having a simple conversation.”He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her inside the front door of the club.
“It was more than a conversation.Perhaps you mistake with whom you are speaking.”She pointed at herself.“I am a human barometer for emotions.And that was at minimum a heated discussion.”
“Afternoon, boss, Miss Stella.”Chris greeted from his stool by the door.
“Chris.”Matthew nodded.He and Stella headed directly upstairs.“Perhaps it was more of a confrontation than a conversation.”
Stella raised one eyebrow.
“That was Miss Harper.She is the editor of the newspaper that wrote the article about Mary Beth’s murder.I was not happy that she named the club.We don’t need bad publicity.”
“The editor of the paper is a woman?How interesting.She must be very clever.”
“Clever, I will give her.But she had no business using Mary Beth’s murder as a way to sell papers.”
“I read the article.It seemed to me that she was trying to show that there has been a pattern of women dying on the east side.”
“That’s just what she said,” he grumbled.
They entered his private wing.Stella reached up to remove her hat, throwing it down onto the low table in front of the fireplace.She plopped down into a chair with a sigh.“Today was so sad.I didn’t know Mary Beth very well; she was new, but she seemed nice.She did have a wonderful voice.”
Matthew hung his hat on a hook by the door and crossed to sit in the chair next to her.The fire crackled and danced in front of him, chasing away the damp chill that had seeped into his bones.He relished the few moments of quiet before he had to get back to work.The club’s doors opened at five o’clock.Before then, he needed to have a staff meeting and speak with Mrs.Langley about hiring another girl to replace Mary Beth.If he’d learned anything from living with his uncle, it was that the show must go on.
Uncle Harry died five years after Matthew had been sent to live with him here in London.A giant man in stature and personality, he had been a safe haven for Matthew.Uncle Harry had run the Seven Stars Theater.Life there had been hectic and colorful and totally lacking in rules.The exact opposite of his childhood home with his parents.His uncle had spent every waking moment at his theater and Matthew had been ushered into adolescence by the dozen actors and dancers that worked for his uncle.Everyone had kept watch over him.
He glanced over at Stella.She had lived her whole life under their father’s roof.Walking on eggshells and being quiet as a mouse so as not to attract attention.In the year she had lived with him here at the Blue Angel, she had certainly blossomed.He hoped that he offered her the same safe haven that Uncle Harry had given him—an opportunity to be herself without fear.Turns out, Stella was quite a chatterbox.Curious about everyone she met.And that singing voice, clear and melodic.She never stopped singing and humming as she went about her day.It brought him great joy to hear it, as he knew she hadn’t always been allowed to sing so freely as a child.
“The newspaper lady was quite lovely.”Stella glanced sideways at him with a smile.
He grunted.
“You two were standing very close.I saw you touch her lips.”
“None of your business.”He refused to encourage this conversation.
Stella just laughed.“She didn’t seem scared of you at all.”
That was true.Elizabeth Harper had not been intimidated by him in the least.He’d give her that.He had spent a long time remaking himself from a scared boy to a man who was nobody’s victim.Luckily, he had grown into his adolescent bravado, reaching a height and breadth similar to that of his uncle.After his uncle died, instead of risk being sent back to his father, Matthew ran with the Newgate gang, earning money however he could.His experiences surviving on the streets of London had carved out the man he was today.
He’d had to be strong and calculating to stay alive.He and Rhys had agreed that gang life wasn’t the life for them, and they worked hard to save money in order to open a real venture.This club was his investment in his future.The way he would make his fortune.He wouldn’t let anyone jeopardize that, especially not a conniving newspaper editor with luscious, distracting curves.
A knock sounded at the door.“Come in,” he called out.
The door opened, and Ben stepped into the room.“Chris says Jack Spencer is at the door.Says he wants to talk with you.”
Jack Spencer?The owner of the Hillwood Theater.Matthew straightened.“You can show him up.”
Ben nodded and disappeared.Matthew turned to his sister.“Why is Jack Spencer wanting to talk with me?”
