At the mention of their favorite treat, Hawk and Peregrine quickly offered to help her.
“The resilience of youth is a godsend. It allows cheerful optimism in the face of unspeakable danger,” mused Charlotte. “While we are older and wiser to the vagaries of the world.”
The earl came to join her, his hand finding hers and clasping it tightly. “Kit was right to remind us that Raven is both clever and resourceful. He’s no stranger to trouble, and eluding danger is second nature to him.”
But it only takes one mistake. And nobody is perfect.
However, rather than cast a pall of gloom over the room, she forced an answering smile.
“Of course.” She drew in a breath. “And Kit is also right to remind us that for the moment, all we can do is wait.”
CHAPTER 20
Puffs of steam misted the air, and the whooshing grew louder as the boatman fed chunks of coal into the engine’s firebox.
Mrs. Guppy returned with an agitated Mademoiselle Benoit in tow. A young man in an oilskin cloak trailed behind them. “Calm yourself, Isabelle,” she counseled. “There is no need to panic.”
“I tell you, time is growing short! Oliver—” A sob slurred the next few words. “—Jasper’s papers!”
“Have courage, my dear. Just give me a moment to prepare for our journey, and then we shall discuss the current situation.”
The exhortation seemed to settle mademoiselle’s nerves. As she stepped into the boat, her gaze locking on the belching engine, worry seemed to give way to curiosity. “Oh, I have always wanted to experience traveling in a steam-powered conveyance!”
“You will find it exhilarating.” Mrs. Guppy waved the young man to the rear of the launch. “Andrew is my top nautical engineering expert, and he’s well versed in all the subtle hazards of the river. He will take the ship’s wheel and navigate us to our destination faster than any traditional carriage or sailing vessel.”
Mademoiselle Benoit reached out a hand and swirled her fingers through the silvery skeins of vapor rising up from the chimney. “Now that we are no longer in thrall to the vagaries of tides and currents, rivers—and soon oceans—offer quicker, safer, and more reliable mode of travel because of steam power.” A beatific sigh. “And just imagine when locomotives are a common sight huffing and puffing through the countryside on a set schedule.”
Mrs. Guppy smiled. “That day is coming, Isabelle. But for tonight we must concentrate on the challenges of the present.”
“The steam pressure is ready, ma’am,” called the boatman.
“Then cast off the lines and let us be on our way.”
Moonlight flickered over the water as the steamboat chugged against the current. The dark silhouette of the slumbering city slipped by. Few lights were visible along the river’s edge. At this hour of the night, any business being done was best conducted under the shroud of secrecy.
Lifting her face to the breeze, Mademoiselle Benoit moved slowly past the thumping engine to a spot by the larboard rail near the bow of the boat. Mrs. Guppy finished conversing with her engineer, then went to join her.
“I’m frightened,” said mademoiselle in a low, tight voice. “As I told you, it appears that Garfield has been lying to us—I don’t know why—and it is Wayland who has Jasper’s papers. I just learned that he has negotiated a price to sell them to Jean-Paul Montaigne and his radical friend, and a rendezvous to make the exchange has been arranged.”
A sound of distress rumbled in her throat. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night! We can’t let that happen! Wemustget our hands on those papers!”
Inside the storage locker, Raven shifted and pressed an ear to the tiny gap between the door and its frame, straining to catch the words through the engine sounds.
“Let us hope that Oliver will have some idea of how to stop them!” Mademoiselle choked back a sob. “That intimidating-looking Bow Street Runner came to ask me and the other officers of our society about Oliver. I am sure that the authorities think he is guilty of Jasper’s murder!”
“My dear, they can have no real evidence of his guilt, because there is none,” said Mrs. Guppy.
“But what if someone witnessed the quarrel in the tavern? Oliver said he was so distraught by Jasper’s refusal to listen to reason that he wasn’t as discreet as he should have been.”
“Sharp words are naught but hot air,” countered Mrs. Guppy.
“And yet those words may convince a jury that there is no cause for reasonable doubt.”
Raven jiggled the door, moving the latch just enough to open it a hair wider.
“Mrs. Sheffield and her friend Lady Wrexford assured me that they want to help Oliver.” A gust of wind tugged at Mademoiselle Benoit’s cloak. “Perhaps we should trust them and tell them everything.”
“Let us see what Oliver has to say when we reach our destination. But I would counsel that we don’t trust anyone,” answered Mrs. Guppy. “Keep in mind that Jasper Milton was likely murdered by a so-called friend. If we want to get our hands on his papers—”
