“Oh my dear,” said the younger sister, “you’re shaking. Goodness, were you almost hit? Days like this always bring a few casualties from those wild drivers.”
“People are always in such a hurry,” admonished the elder sister. “Life goes fast enough, I say. Slow down and enjoy it before it’s too late.”
As the Fenleys discussed the dangers of traffic and bad drivers, Kitty was able to collect herself. Assuring them she was fully recovered and fine physically, Kitty bade them good day.
One more stop.
This morning, she would not tarry with Mr. Cooper. She wanted to be home with her father, his big, strong arms around her, telling her all would be well. When the solicitor opened the sash and leaned out, she waved and abruptly left. His confused expression at her change in routine almost made her turn around to explain. But her fear won out.
Kitty ran the rest of the way home, Terry on her heels. She burst into their small set of rooms, shouting for her father. He came from his room, rubbing his reddened eyes.
“What is it, luv? You’re white as a ghost,” said Pa.
“I think I saw the making of one.”
CHAPTER 5
Next day
Bishopsgate
Ben’s brain was tired from the multitude of figures and documents he had perused throughout the day. Lord Tamber’s property and investments were significant, but nothing compared to the holdings from the title he would inherit. The marquess had agreed that Ben should be familiar with his lands and dealings, so Ben had spent the afternoon with the aging solicitor.
It had been a pleasant day, but his eyes were dry from reading so much small print and the shaky handwriting of the older solicitor. He wanted to put a warm cloth on them and sip a good brandy. A perfect end to the day.
“Mr. Cooper.”
Ben stopped on the steps of the boarding house and looked over his shoulder to see Mr. Felton walking toward him with purpose. The night watchman’s face was drawn and lacked the usual jovial expression.
“Mr. Cooper, I need your help. Can we speak somewhere in private?”
“Of course, my place is right up here. My landlady has a small parlor where we can entertain guests.” Ben led the way, wondering what on earth the man could want.
Once inside, he informed Mrs. Meyer that they would be using the parlor. Ben kept a decanter of brandy on the sideboard. He poured two glasses and handed one to Mr. Felton, who accepted it with a shaky hand.
“I’m afraid my Kitty has gotten into a bit of trouble,” Mr. Felton began, his pathetic attempt at a half smile making him look almost comical. “We need some guidance on the matter.”
Benjamin blinked, then nodded for the man to continue, his own thoughts whirling. That lovely girl into trouble? His first thought was someone had hurt her, and anger unfurled in his chest. Then he decided it must be something else, or Mr. Felton would have taken care of it. What could she have possibly done?
“I believe she witnessed a murder early this morning while making her rounds.” Mr. Felton threw back the expensive brandy.
Ben did the same, grabbing the decanter and pouring them both another one. Was that why Miss Felton had run off so quickly this morning without a word? “Was she hurt?”
“No, by the grace of God. The dog intervened, giving her time to run.” The night watchman ran a steadier hand through his dark, graying mane. “The pup’s been coming with me at night—good company, he is—but I left him with her this evening. I didn’t want her to be alone.”
“Have you gone to the constable?” Ben had an inkling that was why Mr. Felton was here. Even in his position as a Charley, like many people, he was leery of going to the authorities.
“No, not yet. I was thinking it would be better if she just lays low for a spell and pretended like it didn’t happen. At least until we found out what element was involved.” Mr. Felton’s light-brown eyes pleaded for understanding. “Don’t want to be involved as a witness if it’s someone powerful. I’d go mad as a March hare if something happened to my little girl.”
“How old is she?” His logical mind was already whirring with the possibility she could be a witness to a crime.
“She’s not but nineteen. Well, twenty next July.”
With a loud sigh, Ben sat down in one of the leather wingback chairs. “I understand your reluctance to go to the constable.” He immediately thought of The Vicar and the unrest in his ranks.
“I thought, as one of Mr. O’Brien’s brood, you might be able to find out if there’s been a murder on Wormwood and what kind of danger a witness might be in. Kitty’s ready to report it, but I held her back.”
Ben couldn’t blame the man. He’d be wary too if someone he loved was in the same position. Clayton’s fiancée had witnessed a murder. They had been able to use her statement without revealing her identity since the villain had never been found. She had also been hidden in a carriage and not seen. “Let me see what I can find out. In the meantime, could you arrange for me to speak with her? Perhaps bring along one of my brothers?”
