“Come on Moran, we must go.” Stark indicated I take the stairs ahead of him, his expression staid and unbending.
With one last look at the reception area, I did as bade. It might be the last time I saw the office for a few years. Regardless of what happened, my last day and night of freedom had been the most unforgettable of my life.
Several more constables stood outside and glanced up as we exited.
“Why aren’t the other men coming?” I asked. Intuition told me I wouldn’t like the answer.
“They will be searching your office for further evidence.”
“I see.” It required all my willpower to get into the carriage, the back of the equipage boasting bars on the windows. The reality of my situation hit home, but I was dogged in my determination to fight this all the way. Someone had to stand up to the Browns in this world, and it would start with me.
Chapter Thirty
The Right Honorable Bernice Natham
“Good mornin’ Mrs. Worth.” A young lad stood on the street, a satchel full of newspapers over his thin shoulder. With a wide grin, he waved one in my direction. “Would you be wantin’ a paper today? Some gentry mort were killed in a boating accident.”
“Was he indeed?” I paid him for the paper, eager to read the news. Skimming the headline, I read the news that the Duke of Moreland and his only son were killed when their yacht exploded. I had met the man once at a party. He’d been pleasant enough, if a bit arrogant. Of course, that was to be expected of a duke. One couldn’t reach a higher title unless they came from royalty.
I tucked the paper under my arm and continued on my journey. Moran often read the paper and had tasked me with buying it for him. Just the thought of him curled my toes. I waved to Mrs. Paul through the window, eager yet dreading seeing Moran again. My discussion with Ash had been heated. Mostly, his parting salvo had chilled me to my bones. After a sleepless night, I knew I must tell Moran the truth, yet I couldn’t tell him everything.
The tinkling of the door over her shop rang, and Mrs. Paul waved me over, her face set in panic. “Oh, Mrs. Worth. I am so glad you are here. Mr. Moran was arrested last night.”
“Beg pardon?” I asked, my heart in my throat. Surely she misspoke. Knees weak, I had a hundred questions inside my head. Not a single one would come out.
With a shaky hand, she nearly dropped a letter as she handed it over. The lines around her mouth were deep, her eyes shimmering with tears. “He asked me to give this to you. Well, a bobby gave it to me on his behalf.”
I took the folded note with his familiar handwriting, my panic rising. Queasiness. “Do you know what happened?”
“There was a terrible ruckus upstairs with banging and clanging.” Her flushed cheeks and fidgeting hands spoke of her upset. “I went to see what was happening and the Met inspectors were searching the office. They wouldn’t tell me why.”
My legs quivered, and I wanted to sink to the ground. I remained upright by sheer force of will. “Do you know where they took him? Does Inspector Ashton know?”
She shook her head, wetness streaming down her cheeks. “No, I am sorry.”
“Beg pardon Mrs. Paul, I must go.” I turned on my heel and lifted the heavy material of my skirt. In a very unladylike move, I all but ran up the stairs. My heart in my throat, I dreaded what I would find behind the door. The click of the key in the lock was loud to my ears. Shoulders back, I pushed the door open to reveal pure chaos. Papers were strewn everywhere, ruining all my hard work.
I opened the note that was addressed to me in Moran’s bold print. Tears began to fall, and I wiped them away. He wanted me to inform his solicitor, which I would do posthaste. The second part of the note had a list of tasks for me to complete in his absence. The last line caught my attention.
It said I would find another manuscript in his office that he wished me to copy edit titledThe Golden Knight. There was no manuscript calledThe Golden Knight. There was one withthe Dark Knight and Lord Golden. My heart thumped a mad beat. If the police had found the manuscript, that would explain Moran’s arrest. I strode into his office to see if it was still hidden away.
Moran’s office fared worse than the reception area, with papers littering the floor. My throat tight, I knelt next to the hidden place in the floor and pulled back the mechanism that Moran had shown me. Lillian’s manuscript, along with several others, was still there.
My nerves stretched raw, I had to find Ash and discover if he knew anything. I entered the reception area and moved to my desk, where Moran had stashed some coins for small expenses. It wouldn’t be much, but I prayed it was enough to get him bond.
