“Yes, of course. I have plans to meet up with Sophia.” Another lie. It seemed to be a theme of her life in the past few years. Her time in London just ran out, however, and now it was imperative she visit Pike.
She followed her aunt from the room, resolute in getting some answers from Pike. A tiny voice of doubt whispered to call on Langdon and beg him to come with her. She couldn’t risk his objection. He had been very vocal about where he stood on the subject. It pained her to admit, even to herself, that he didn’t have faith in her abilities. She had been underestimated her entire life, first by her father and then by her husband. Langdon was no different. A stone settled in the pit of her stomach. She would be forced to go it alone or be left behind. For the sake of the villagers, she had to keep on her current course.
Chapter Sixteen
Langdon climbed the staircase of the building that housed Pike’s office, Farnsworth trailing behind him. The stairs creaked under his feet in the utilitarian stairwell that smelled of stale urine. He had low expectations of the upcoming interview. Given the type of clients Pike worked for, there was a very good chance he could be persuaded to talk. He just needed to be presented with the right incentive. Langdon paused on the landing where a narrow hallway led to two doors. The nearest one was cracked open and voices spilled out.
A low, muffled voice followed by the sound of a woman weeping reached him. Langdon shared a questioning look with Farnsworth. Pike wasn’t alone. He debated leaving when the woman spoke again.
“Oh Mr. Pike, my father’s illness is such that he needs an excellent solicitor to handle his affairs before he passes on.” Sobs followed her statement, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
The familiar tone of her voice sent his stomach plummeting. His back flat against the wall, he peered through the door. Inside stood a thin man wringing his hands, his balding pate slick with sweat. Across from him, her face buried in a white handkerchief, sat the slender form of Mrs. Elizabeth Adare.
He rubbed at his forehead and inhaled a steadying breath. Fury burned a path up his neck. He had told her to leave Pike to him and she had disobeyed his orders once more. If she continued to go down this dangerous path without a thought to her own safety, she would be hurt, or worse, killed by Randell’s men.
Farnsworth settled a hand on his nape and adjusted his clenched jaw. Langdon mirrored his frustration. Her visit to Pike would have far-reaching repercussions for their investigation. His anger boiled hotter at her foolishness, and it took a great deal of self-control not to burst into the office and drag her out. He forced himself to remain composed.
“Miss Green, please calm down,” the harried man said, patting his broad forehead with a damp handkerchief. “While I appreciate the business you offer, I can't take on any new clients at this time.”
She waved a slender hand and rocked back and forth in her chair. “I need smelling salts. Do you have smelling salts?”
“Smm... meelling salts? No, I don’t. No smelling salts I am afraid.”
“Oh Mr. Pike, I... oh, no smelling salts... perhaps tea.” Her voice gained momentum. “I wish for some tea. Can you fetch me some tea?”
Motioning Anthony forward, Langdon rapped on the door. Pike peered at him and Langdon. He dared not even look at Mrs. Adare, lest she sees the extent of his wrath. Channeling every ounce of patience he possessed, he addressed the solicitor.” Mr. Pike, this is Miss Green’s brother. I am her personal physician. I am afraid Miss Green is not well.”
The man’s bulbous eyes widened, and he nodded. With his rather large and pointy nose, drab brown hair and brown suit, he resembled a wren. The solicitor’s jerky movements only added to the impression. He hardly looked dangerous, but looks were often deceiving.
“Indeed, my sister suffers from delusions.” Farnsworth lost no time in picking up on his thread of conversation. Despite his upset with his cousin, none of it showed in the solicitousness he exhibited to the nervous man. “Our father has been dead these past ten years.”
Mr. Pike tisked with genuine compassion and shifted from foot to foot. After several hopeful glances at the door, he bobbed his head once more. “A most sad situation.”
“Yes, tragic.” Langdon said, darting a glance at Elizabeth. She watched him from the cover of the handkerchief, her eyes solemn but defiant.
“Her mental state is rather delicate, and it would be best not to rush her lest she become difficult.” Farnsworth slipped his hand around Pike’s elbow and steered him from the room. “Perhaps if you would allow us a few minutes of your time and remain in the hall with me while the doctor calms her down enough to leave peacefully?”
Pike eagerly nodded, his feet shuffling on the dirty planked flooring. “Of course, I would be glad to oblige, but I have only a few minutes until my next client.”
“I shall endeavor to hurry.” Langdon shut the door and turned on his heel, flexing his hands. The gloves hampered his movements. He never enjoyed wearing them and stripped them off. “What in bloody hell are you doing?”
“I am looking for information, now please stop asking me such silly questions and allow me to concentrate.” Elizabeth rushed across the room and knelt in front of the desk. She pulled out the top drawer and began to look through the contents.
His temples pounded and he forced his shoulders down to ease the tension. A dozen scenarios rushed through his head. Picking her up and rushing her out of the room was on the top of his list. The damage her visit might wreak would be devastating to his investigation. “It was a rhetorical question.”
