After a moment, Fitzroy appeared, holding a small silver salver with a note laid upon it. “I found this in the entryway, Mr. Stanton.”
He took the note, staring at it. “What do you mean youfoundit there?”
Fitzroy paused, his throat bobbing with a swallow. “I must admit I don’t know where it came from. It was just . . . there.”
What the devil?Leonard nodded. “Very well. Thank you.” He waited for Fitzroy to leave the room before slipping his finger beneath the wax seal. Feminine writing scrolled across the page. The blasted woman had somehow snuck this into his house. He felt more than a bit violated. For a moment he simply laid it on the table, eyeing the paper while he drank his tea—as if it were a snake and might bite him the next time he picked it up.
Goodness, this was ridiculous. Whether he read it now or five hours from now, it would not change the contents. He lifted it, grimacing preemptively, knowing whatever she asked of him would likely be no small feat.
Mr. Stanton,
Thank you so much for your agreement to assist me in this small matter. I do believe you will find it is nothing much. I simply need you to come to my residence to fetch a parcel and deliver it to the address I have listed below. That is all. Nothing more, nothing less. Please be at my townhome no earlier than eight this evening.
—Mrs. Honora Gillingham
Leonard audibly scoffed. Honora. The woman who stole his great-grandmother’s ring was namedHonora. It was almost too much to be believable.
While the idea of transferring a parcel seemed oddly simple, the time of day and the woman asking the favor made it all highly suspect.
“Fitzroy,” Leonard called out.
In a moment, his man of all trades appeared. “Yes?”
“Do you know where this address is?” Leonard held the paper out to him, which Fitzroy took and skimmed in all but a few short seconds. “Ah, yes.” He hesitated. “It is down by the docks on the lower east side of town.”
“And is the neighborhood . . . reputable?”
Fitzroy shook his head. “No. I would not recommend you go there if you can avoid it.”
Leonard chewed his lip as his eyes narrowed. “That is what I thought. Thank you, Fitzroy, that will be all.”
The middle-aged man dipped his head, then left the room.
By the afternoon, Leonard had made the decision he would not be entertaining Mrs. Gillingham’s request. Therefore, he did not need to wait until eight o’clock to go and inform her of such. So, when he found himself bored by midafternoon, he had his horse saddled up and brought to his door. A note would likely suffice, but he was not done with Mrs.HonoraGillingham. She still had her actions to speak for, and he might just be desperate and angry enough to demand she give him the funds, or he takes his complaints to the authorities. Something he should have done yesterday.
His ride was refreshing after lazing about his parent’s townhouse all day. The rhythmic pattern of his steed’s hooves was always calming, but not quite enough to put Leonard entirely at his ease.
Rounding the corner to Mrs. Gillingham’s townhouse, Leonard slowed his mount. A carriage sat just outside, and he wondered if he should have sent a card after all. He didn’t wish to have spectators during their conversation.
The front door of Mrs. Gillingham’s townhouse opened, and he was surprised when he saw a man exit first. Then, Mrs. Gillingham herself walked through the door, another man just behind her.
The arrangement was peculiar. Both men were extraordinarily large, their jackets taut on their arms and shoulders. No one spoke, and the man in front went to the awaiting carriage andopened the door while the man from behind put his hand on Mrs. Gillingham’s back.
Leonard slipped from his horse, walking closer as he watched it all happen. No one had seen him yet, but just as Mrs. Gillingham stepped up to the carriage, she hesitated. That’s when the man from behind gave her back a push, and she glared down at him, slapping his hand.
What the devil?
Leonard started forward. “Excuse me,” he yelled out. Just as he did, nearby church bells began to toll the hour, drowning out his voice.
The man in the rear moved forward, forcing Mrs. Gillingham up the steps and into the carriage, where he promptly shut the door and moved to the front. Climbing up onto the carriage, he took the reins, snapping them and starting them down the street.
For a moment, Leonard just stared. Did that really just happen?
Of course it did. He slapped his forehead.
Was the young woman under duress? It didn’t seem like a friendly encounter. But what if Leonard misread it all?
He stood in a daze, watching as the carriage grew smaller the further it went. His mind warred between telling him he was overreacting and knowing she was just the type of woman to do something that would elicit being escorted by two burly men into a carriage.
