Kent glanced over, his intense gaze shifting to his wife. “Not my only obsession, sprite.”
Mrs. Kent pinkened but gave her husband an impish look. “In fact, Harry loves coal so much he’s even made up his own saying about it. Go on, darling, tell them.”
Kent sighed. “Must I?”
“Oh ho, I know this one.” Wick grinned at his colleague’s beleaguered look. “Kent has it written on the chalkboard in his office.As constant as coal—isn’t that it?”
“It’s meant to be inspirational,” Kent said with great dignity. “Coal transport has driven the reliability and innovation of the railways. If we can get our passenger trains running with that same degree of consistency and accuracy, then we will have accomplished something.”
“A worthy goal.” Garrity raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
“Speaking of worthy goals,” Mrs. Kent said briskly, “Harry has informed me about your situation, Lady Beatrice. I think there’s nothing more cowardly than a villain who hides behind anonymity and preys upon women. We would like to help you in any way we can.”
Bea hesitated, glancing at Wick who gave her a subtle nod.
Earlier, he’d told her that Tessa Kent would be an invaluable ally, and gaining her assistance would be key to their efforts to find the foe. When Bea had argued that she didn’t want to be beholden to a stranger, he’d replied,What is more important, angel, your pride…or protecting your estate and people from danger?
There was a reason the man was a top-notch negotiator.
Wick had also told her that he would trust the people at the table with his life, and being in their company showed Bea why. Wick’s friends were a far cry from the group she had associated with before her accident. Back then, her supposed friends—even her fiancé—had cut ties with her after she’d been scarred. A superficial mark on her cheek had been enough to send them scattering to the winds.
Now she was facing true danger, with an enemy who could strike at any moment and make collateral damage of those around her. Yet in the eyes of Mrs. Kent—a woman whom she’d just met—Bea saw concern and empathy, as if the lady had known her own travails. Mrs. Kent’s willingness to help was genuine…and that decided things for Bea.
In her life, she’d had few enough offers of true friendship; she wasn’t about to turn one down.
“You’re very generous, ma’am,” she said. “I don’t know how I shall repay you.”
“You can start by calling me Tessa. Now would you mind giving a summary of the essential details?”
Bea obliged, going through the timeline of attacks and leads they had to follow.
“In sum, you’re in London to chase down clues about a disgruntled ex-tenant, a mysterious pocket watch, and perhaps a shady priest.” Tessa tilted her head. “What is your plan?”
“I’ve secured guards for Lady Beatrice’s protection,” Wick said. “And sent several of my men to locate the Perkins family, who we believe live somewhere in the Seven Dials.”
“And the pocket watch?” Tessa asked.
“The Carlisles and I spent the day visiting watchmakers in hopes that someone might recognize the workmanship or identify the initials ‘H. C.’ Our efforts were in vain,” Bea admitted. “The lack of any hallmark or maker’s stamp makes identifying the watch nearly impossible.”
“Butter and jam, we must have questioned every watchmaker in Clerkenwell and Soho.” Violet gestured to her empty plate. “No wonder I’m famished.”
“When are you not?” Carlisle asked mildly.
Her reply was a shrug and a good-natured grin.
“Do you have the item with you?” Tessa asked.
Wick removed the watch from an inner pocket and passed it around. As Tessa took the timepiece, she studied it with keen concentration. She opened and closed the case, scrutinizing the dial face and cover, front and back.
“Thisismysterious, isn’t it?” she concluded. “The watch is clearly of high quality, and I’d wager my pet ferret that this gold is no less than eighteen karat. Why would anyone omit to have it hallmarked, when that would substantiate the value?”
“Because the monetary value of the watch means less to them than its symbolic value.” This came from Garrity, who sampled the lobster consommé newly placed in front of him, his lips curving faintly. “The soup is exceptional, Mrs. Garrity.”
“Well, it is your favorite. I’ll be sure to convey your compliments to Cook.” Brow pleating, his wife asked, “Could you explain your theory of the watch? I don’t quite follow.”
“If the owner never planned to sell the watch, instead intending to keep it as a personal memento, then he wouldn’t care whether the piece was stamped by the Goldsmith’s Hall.”
“Yes, but whynothave it stamped anyway?” Gabby persisted.
