Alex was at Ellen’s side, with Mungo behind them. She’d walked these roads many times in the daylight hours, but at night, they took on a more sinister air. Especially with the fog beginning to swirl around their ankles.
Gossip had a way of reaching all corners of London. It had not taken long for the residents of Crabbett Close to learn the Nightingales were children of a viscount. It had humbled them when no one treated them differently.
“Step left,” Leo said.
Ellen raised her skirts and stepped around the large pile of manure.
It wasn’t late, and the streets were still full of people. Some returning home. Vendors still selling their wares.
“I say—”
“No,” Ellen said. “We are not stopping for more food. The matter is clearly urgent, Leo.”
“I didn’t even finish my sentence.”
“I know you two. You’re both always hungry.”
Her brothers muttered something, and they continued on.
The road they turned into thirty minutes later was narrower than Crabbett Close. The houses were smaller and stepped out their front doors directly onto the street.
Once, she’d never have contemplated walking about at any time of the day in a street like this one. Ellen and her brothers would be preparing for their evening’s entertainment at this hour. She would have spent a night chatting with her friends, dancing, and flirting.
A memory of her laughing with Dorrie, Somer, and Samantha slipped into her head. Her friends would have been worried when she disappeared, and she’d made no effort to send word she was all right. The tug of guilt had her wondering if it was time to write that letter. Time to tell them she was well. They were perhaps the only three women who had been her true friends.
No. No good could come of thinking about them and the life she’d once lived. Parts of this life were so much better, and parts… far worse.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“My daughter lives here.” Mr. Douglas’s words snapped Ellen out of her contemplation. They had stopped by a door. No steps up or gate to unlatch.
The Nightingales stood back, Mungo behind them, while Mr. Douglas knocked. It was flung open seconds later, and a pale-faced, small woman stood there. Light from behind her showed she was tearful.
“Have you found her, Pa?”
“I’ve not, Sally. But I’ve brought help so we do.”
“Good evening.” Ellen moved closer. “I am Ellen, and these are my brothers, Leo and Alex. With us is our friend, Mungo. We wish to assist you in locating Penny.”
“Are you them?”
“Them?” Ellen asked.
“The Notorious Nightingales. I’ve heard what you’ve done for others. What you do for those that live in Crabbett Close.” She could hear the hope in her words. “Pa talks about you often.”
Ellen nodded.
“Please find my Penny.” The woman grabbed Ellen’s hands.
“Now, Sally. They’ll do what they can,” Mr. Douglas said.
“It will help if you would bring us something of your daughter’s, Mrs. Tompkins,” Alex said in his lovely, soothing voice. He could charm anyone to do anything. Everyone loved Alex. Unlike Leo and Ellen, who were cold and prickly.
“Clothing?” She didn’t hesitate.
“Or a book,” Alex said.
“She doesn’t read.” Mrs. Tompkins stepped inside.
