“Then it is fortunate we went our separate ways.”
Lady might also have refused my proposal, had I made one, because she did not wish to come out into the light. If she’d married me, there would be awkward questions about her origins, and her family might have appeared on the horizon to object, mayhap to drag her back to a home she could do better without.
Lady’s gaze drifted to the window and the lane now empty of all but the pacing Brewster. “What a curious gentleman,” she said thoughtfully. “The one who opened the door for me, I mean. Who is he?” She asked it with nothing but neutral interest.
I pondered what to tell her, though I had the feeling that if Lady truly wanted to know Denis’s identity, she’d find a way to discover it. “His name is James Denis. He is an … acquaintance … of mine.”
“Not gently born, I think. Though he has learned impeccable manners.”
I halted her musings before she became too intrigued by him. “Denis is a very dangerous man, I must warn you. He was recently arrested for murder but managed to get himself released from Newgate, likely by nefarious means.”
“I assumed the danger from the presence of the large man who attended him. Though I wasn’t certain if he was in peril or caused such things himself. Did he commit the murder he was accused of?”
“I certainly wouldn’t have allowed him anywhere near you if I thought he had.”
Lady regarded me in quiet amusement. “You have very decided opinions of your fellow man, Captain. You are perceptive, from what I have observed, but those opinions can also blind you, I think.” She set aside her teacup and lifted the plate of petit fours. “Now, shall we enjoy these cakes?”
Denis was long gone by the time we departed the bakeshop. I escorted Lady, laden now with bread and pastries courtesy of Mrs. Beltan, to Russell Street and a hackney stand. She insisted she could walk back to Holborn, but I worried that Mr. Arthur might decide she was a person to leverage me into good behavior, despite his declaration he’d leave those close to me alone. I felt better when she was rolling away in the carriage to be lost in the crush of Covent Garden.
Brewster and I returned home. Denis had requested I attend him right away, but I’d promised Donata to return to her after I met with Lady, and she would always take precedence over Denis.
I rode in the hackney in silence, lost in thought, while Brewster, who sat inside with me, kept a sharp eye on the streets around us.
Donata was not only up but dressed and waiting for me when I returned. I’d planned to seek her out in her chambers, but she pattered down the stairs to me as I began to ascend them. She forestalled any greeting, seized my arm, and marched me to the library, bidding Barnstable to fetch coffee along the way.
Once in the library, she nearly shoved me into a chair in front of the fireplace before taking the one next to me.
“Do not laugh,” Donata commanded, when I had to chuckle at her eagerness. “I have been waiting an age.”
It had been only a few hours, but my wife was not the most patient of women.
“Very well,” I said, and launched straight into Lady’s tale.
Donata listened with gratifying attentiveness, letting me relate all without interruption. Her face softened as I spoke, her wariness changing to compassion.
“The poor woman,” she said feelingly when I’d finished. “Yes, you must discover what has become of the little girl. I will help any way I can.”
I warmed to her instant solicitude. “I wonder if any of your charitable organizations aided the widow of Mr. Redding or her children. There are records of that sort of thing, aren’t there?” I had only a vague notion of such details.
“The money we raise from our subscription balls and garden parties goes into a collective pot,” Donata explained. “We use a man of business to keep account of it all and record what monies are paid out. I would be happy to consult him. Aline could inquire about her charities as well. If Mrs. Redding sold her husband’s business, there should also be a record of that.”
“I would love to suppose Mrs. Redding sold up and retired in wealth to the seaside, where Lady’s daughter will live out her young years in idyllic bliss.” I shook my head. “What I fear is Mrs. Redding’s husband died a pauper, and the wife and children were forced into a workhouse.”
“There would be records of that too,” Donata said with a practical air. “We will locate Mrs. Redding and discover what has become of young Vicky, never you fear.”
I clasped her hand and lifted it to my lips. “You always astonish me, my dear.”
Donata looked pleased but tried to shrug it off. “You needn’t be astonished that we ladies can cut to the heart of a matter. Nor that we are happy to chivvy others to our cause.”
Before I could reply with another compliment, a discreet tap sounded on the door. This was followed by Barnstable entering with a parcel, along with a maid bearing a tray, the savory odor of the promised coffee wafting to me.
“A package has come for you, Captain,” Barnstable announced. He removed the bulky parcel from under his arm and placed it on the desk.
Donata rose briskly, and I swiftly stood up beside her. “I will leave you to it, Gabriel. Set the coffee there, Joan. That will be all, thank you.”
Joan calmly laid the tray on a table near the windows and arranged mug, coffee pot, sugar, sugar tongs, and small plate of sweet biscuits neatly on it before gliding away. Barnstable also faded out the door, leaving it open for Donata.
“I must dash.” Donata stood on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. “One can be late for morning calls, but not too late. I will confer with Aline, and we will form a plan of attack.”
