“Being no stranger to ‘princes,’ the last one being Gretchen’s sire who left while she was still a bun in my oven, I tried to warn Lillian,” Miss Engle went on. “Tried to tell ’er that this cove was trouble and that the only one she could count on was ’erself. But the stars in ’er eyes blinded ’er to the truth. She quit this place soon after.”
“And you have no idea what she did next?” Pippa pressed.
“Like I mentioned, I went by ’er lodgings a few weeks later to see ’ow she was faring.”
A chill spread through Fi at Miss Engle’s grim tone. “Did you speak to Lillian?”
“Aye, but she didn’t say much,” the actress said tersely. “She didn’t ’ave to. The bruise on ’er face spoke volumes.”
Fi swallowed. “She was being abused?”
“She denied it, o’ course. Got angry when I told ’er she needed to leave the bastard. Defended ’im, said ’e were an important man under a lot o’ pressure…as if that justified ’im using ’er like a punching bag.” Miss Engle expelled a breath. “There was nothing I could do. When I went back a few days later, she was gone. I haven’t seen or ’eard from ’er since.”
Hearing Miss Engle’s resignation, Fi said quietly, “You did your best.”
“Aye, but it weren’t good enough.” Miss Engle straightened. “Do you think you’ll be able to find Lillian?”
“We will do everything in our power,” Fi promised.
“Is there anything else you can remember, no matter how trivial it may seem, that might help us find Lillian or this Martin fellow?” Pippa asked.
“I think Lillian’s cove was flush in the pocket,” Miss Engle said after a moment. “That last time I saw her, her room was piled with packages. I remember ’er pointing at ’em, saying ’ow well Martin took care o’ ’er. As if gifts proved anything. Plenty o’ bastards throw their bluntandtheir fists around.” She shook her head. “But I recall the presents were finely wrapped like they’d come from an expensive shop.”
A possible lead.Eagerly, Fi asked, “Do you know which one?”
“The name o’ the establishment weren’t on the packages. But the boxes were wrapped with ivory damask paper and tied with black satin bows. And tucked in each bow was a black swan’s feather, which was unique enough to catch my eye.”
And hopefully unique enough for us to track down the shop.
“If you find Lillian,” Miss Engle said, “will you tell ’er to call on me?”
“We will,” Pippa promised.
“If there’s nothing else, I’d best be getting ready.” The actress’s briskness didn’t hide her lack of enthusiasm. “Got a show to do and performances lined up afterward.”
Fi glanced at Pippa, who dipped her chin in agreement.
“Before you go.” Fi handed Miss Engle a calling card.
The actress took it. “TheSociety of Angels.” She looked up. “Why are you giving me this?”
“Because we could use a woman with your talents,” Fi said.
Eighteen
At ten o’clock that evening, Hawk found himself in a carriage in the East End. He was accompanied by Devlin, Pearson, and Trent. Earlier this week, the Sherwood Band had struck again, robbing the carriage of a rich merchant and his mistress. The gang had set up detours that forced their unsuspecting victims into an alleyway and a waiting ambush. The criminals had made away with a fortune in jewelry.
This time, however, they might have left a trail. Trent had caught wind of gossip: a woman named Lizzie Farley had been bragging that she’d witnessed the attack and met the gang’s leader. The Quorum’s goal this eve was to talk to Miss Farley and discover whether she had any useful information.
“When we’re inside, let me do the talking.” Devlin peered out the carriage window.
“As if a cove could get a word in edgewise,” Pearson said beneath his breath.
Hawk agreed with his bearded colleague. Devlin had been issuing orders as if he were in charge and the rest of them were his lackeys. While Hawk found it irritating, he wanted to get the job done so that he could go home to his wife. The thought of Fiona sent a pulse of warmth through him. Last night, when he’d told her he had plans this evening, she hadn’t raised a fuss. The fact that he’d just plowed her and made her spend thrice probably accounted for some of her amenability. Nonetheless, he marveled at the easiness of their relationship.
He hadn’t lied when he told her he never expected marriage to be this good. It wasn’t just the physical aspect…although God knew the fucking was sublime. With her, he was insatiable; the time they spent together made him crave her more. But not just her nubile body. He wanted more of her playful teasing. Her clever wit and lively spirit. He found her more fascinating, more absorbing than even his work.
In her presence, his numbness dissipated, and he felt engaged…alive.
