Brewster shook his head as I approached. “He got away from me. Didn’t recognize him. Sorry, guv.”
“Funnily enough, I’d rather you didn’t catch a man ready to cut into us,” I said admonishingly. “He might have had another knife.” I pulled the one I’d found in the street from my coat pocket, where I’d transferred it when I’d changed. “Do you recognize that?”
By Brewster’s stillness, I decided he did. “Not this one in particular,” he said. “But let me keep it.”
He’d pried the knife so firmly from my hand I hadn’t much choice but to relinquish it to him.
I left him to join the ladies, waving them out to the carriage that had reached the doorstep.
Donata had covered herself from the rain with a long dark cloak and voluminous hood. Two footmen held a canopy over her head, so that not one drop of water touched her ladyship from doorstep to carriage. Gabriella followed under the same canopy, her cloak almost as encompassing. I ducked after them.
I took the rear-facing seat once I was assisted inside, gazing across at Donata and Gabriella. The coach jerked forward as soon as the footman slammed its door, carrying us into the night.
“I vow, no gentleman is escorting two more beautiful ladies than I am this evening,” I told them. I meant it—I was quite proud of my elegant wife, and Gabriella had become so pretty it was heartbreaking.
Neither of them appeared to be impressed by my observation. “Well, Gabriel?” Donata asked crisply. “What were you whispering about with Mr. Brewster?”
“And who nearly stabbed you at the front door?” Gabriella burst out. “Bartholomew told me all about it, so you needn’t pretend nothing happened.”
Other gentlemen might protect their ladies from sordid tales of their adventures, but I knew it was fruitless to keep silent. I described the incident in the street then continued with the story of meeting Mr. Cudgeon with Grenville. I included all Cudgeon had said—or didn’t say.
“Mr. Brewster recognized the knife?” Donata asked.
“Thought he did,” I amended.
“Mr. Brewster is perceptive.” Donata gave me a decided nod. “It means he has some idea who the culprit is. Mr. Pickett’s killer, perhaps?”
“Not very likely,” Gabriella broke in before I could answer. “The man who killed Mr. Pickett followed him to a quiet and dangerous area. He didn’t try to stab him on a crowded road in Mayfair.”
I listened in consternation. “You two are an alarming pair. Have you been discussing murder as you dressed for the opera?”
“We are naturally interested, Father,” Gabriella said. “I am not an insipid miss who needs to be sheltered from the world.”
She did need shelter, but I agreed that she was no fool. “I believe you have the right of it,” I said. “I doubt he was Pickett’s killer. He meant to warn me off, but he had to know Brewster would never let him near me.”
“A friend of the murderer’s then?” Gabriella suggested.
“I will reserve judgment until I hear what Brewster discovers,” I said. “Now, may we speak of more pleasant things? How was your day with Lady Aline, Gabriella?”
Gabriella knew when she was being checked, but her eyes shone with enthusiasm as she described the apothecaries’ gardens she and Lady Aline had visited in Chelsea, which contained healing plants from the world over. That led to talk of travel in general, Gabriella recalling how much she’d enjoyed Rome. She hoped we could make another such journey, and I absorbed the joy that she spoke easily of traveling with me again.
I was so enjoying our discussion that I was sorry when we reached Covent Garden. The two ladies eagerly descended, I more reluctantly, then I escorted them upstairs to Donata’s box.
“I have a matter to discuss with you,” I whispered to Donata as I seated her. Gabriella had moved to the front row, and we were relatively alone for the moment. “But later.”
Donata sent me a steely gaze. “You do like to tease, Gabriel.”
“It is nothing very dreadful, I assure you.” At least, I hoped it would not be.
Donata could say nothing more, as the opera had already begun and her friends were storming in to speak with her. I made my way to Gabriella in the first row of chairs and we both focused on the performers.
Lady Aline soon arrived in a bulk of rustling silks and waving feathers. Gabriella, who’d become very fond of Lady Aline, jumped up to meet her and guided her to a chair near mine.
“Thank you, dear girl. You are a credit to your papa.” Lady Aline huffed as she settled herself. “Lacey, my boy, I heard you were seen running in and out of Newgate prison this morning. I vowed to all it could not have been you.” She pinned me with a hard blue gaze, willing me to tell her she was right.
“Unfortunately, it is true,” I said with a bow of humility. “A friend was arrested for a crime he did not commit, and I am trying to help him.”
Aline’s stare sharpened with interest. “Good for you. You are certain of his innocence?”
