“Kit Braxton,” she murmured to the beggar, reaching into her pocket as if reaching for a coin. “I’m afraid we have run out of time here. We need to get not only Miss Schroeder out, but Mrs. Baxter, and Lady Pamela Smythe-Smith.”
Braxton, clad in a tattered Rifleman’s uniform, raised his scruffy face. “Pamela? You’re sure?”
Pip scowled at him. “I just spent two weeks with the woman, some of that time under her bed. I know what she looks like.”
Although she didn’t much look like that now. Pip shivered, wondering if she would end up in one of those cells if they caught her. Well, at least her hair was already short.
Kit grinned. “You were under her bed? I bet that’s a story.”
Pip grinned back. “It is. We’ll save it for later. For now, here is Miss Schroeder’s information. You need to get it to Diccan as soon as possible.”
As quickly and concisely as she could, she repeated what she had been told. Especially about Theo and the assassination attempt on the Prince of Wales.
“Good work,” he answered, lifting his cup and jingling it as if asking for more. “Look for me in the morning. Same street corner, same cup. But Miss Knight…”
Pip grinned. “Miss Cox, if you please.”
He grinned back and suddenly looked younger. “Miss Cox. Drake might refuse to aid the women yet. It might be too dangerous to tip our hand at this moment, since the attacks are to happen in two days. If they think we’ve winkled them out, they might change the plans, and we’ll lose them. Can the women wait?”
Pip’s instinct was to say no. No matter what Miss Schroeder had said, she had suffered down in that awful cell. And that was when they simply thought her a gabby wife. What if they discovered her real purpose? What if they discovered Pip’s?
But she knew that more was at stake than those three women, as desperate as their situation was.
She nodded. “As long as you’re here the minute you can be. I would say bring a magistrate, but I suspect nothing is being done here that is illegal. At least to women.”
Kit tapped her arm with his cup. “Good job, my girl. We’ll not let you down. Be careful yourself. And one more thing…”
She looked down to see that his smile had disappeared. “Drummond will be with us when we move,” he said. “Do us a favor and don’t shoot the man. “He’s been driving Hilliard mad to do something. I don’t know what he did, but he’s acting as if he’s the greatest sinner in the world. Which we know he isn’t. Drake is.”
She knew he was trying to lighten her mood. He didn’t. “He is safe from me,” she said.
She was still reflecting on Braxton’s odd request and battling unrealistic hope and dread at the same time as she walked back into the asylum kitchens.
“What were you doing out so long?” Matron asked, standing in the doorway like judgment herself. Around them the kitchen worked on, dishes clattering, pots steaming, the red-faced cook stirring.
Barely keeping herself from jumping straight in the air, Pip finished shutting the door, lifted her head and offered a tired smile. “There’s an out-o’-work soldier. I give him pennies, sometimes.”
Matron scowled. “You don’t make so much you can give it away.”
Pip shrugged, trying so hard to seem nonchalant when her heart was banging against her ribs. “It’s sure I make more’n him bein’ thrown out on the streets after defending our country so’s he’s only sportin’ one arm. Can’t hurt to be nice to such as him.”
All Matron could do was huff at her. “Do you still have the key?” she demanded.
Pip nodded, desperate to figure a way to keep from giving it up. “If you’ll pardon me saying, ma’am, that room needs a better cleaning than I could give it today. There’s still a smell I couldn’t quite get out. Can I have another go?”
Still scowling, the matron flapped a hand at her. “Might as well. The numbers two and three rooms across the hall could probably use the same. The key works for both. Mind you don’t neglect your other work.”
Pip smiled. “Thank you, Matron. I just hate the idea of our ladies caught in with a bad smell. Doesn’t seem quietin’ at all, then, does it?”
* * *
It wasa good thing there was a pub with a view to the asylum, or he would have
lost his mind. If he was lucky, he saw her twice a day. It wasn’t enough to ease his terror, but it helped. He knew he should be with Drake organizing to strike the minute they heard a timetable. But he couldn’t just leave her alone, no matter what she thought. He needed to be close in case she needed him.
He might have to leave her when this was over. But until then, he was responsible for her.
He eased his conscience by eavesdropping on the conversations of the male hospital staff who stopped by for a wet on the way home from work. He might just pick up a valuable bit of gossip, even though he hadn’t so far.
