“Not in the way you think.” She adjusted her reticule on her wrist, then nodded toward the entrance. “We are meeting someone.” With that, she strode ahead, making Leonard follow after her with a groan.
Upon entering the park, Mrs. Gillingham had every appearance of being a young woman on a leisurely stroll. But Leonard knew her well enough—much to his chagrin—to know otherwise. She was surveying her surroundings, taking note of every sound and corner as she walked. Her head would tilt one way, then turn and look another, all under the guise of innocent interest.
Once they reached a fork in the path, Mrs. Gillingham walked to the left, whistling a soft tune. Soon, an answering tune sounded from behind a tree to their left.
A wiry man of indescribable age appeared from behind the thick trunk. Leonard took several quick steps until he was beside Mrs. Gillingham, putting himself between her and the newcomer. “I’m flattered, Mr. Stanton,” she said with a grin in her voice. “But I know this man.”
Leonard cleared his throat, his neck heating. “I assumed as much.” What had he been thinking? She was the one running this charade. But she had asked him to protect her, and something deep within him felt the need to do just that. He ran a hand over his lapel. “I was only following you.”
“Ah. Of course.” She nodded, then walked toward the man by the tree, whose clothes fit decently and were of fair quality. But something about the way he held himself set Leonard off his ease. “Good evening, Mr. Pratt.” Mrs. Gillingham pulled her hand and her reticule to her middle. “I have been looking for you.”
“Yes, I received your letter.” The man appeared older now that Leonard had a better look at him. His knobby fingers twitched at his side. “You know better than to be sending me letters, Gillingham.”
“Mrs.Gillingham, please. I’m a lady now.”
The man bent slightly at his middle, wheezing out a laugh. “Little Honora? A lady? You can pretend to look the part, but you ain’t foolin’ me.”
Leonard came alongside her again. “Can we move on and get this over with, please? I do not wish to be out any later than necessary.”
“Yes, Pratt,” she said, nodding her approval. “Let us move this along. Do you know where it is?”
Mr. Pratt lifted his chin and scratched the wiry hair on his neck. “Aye, I do.”
Mrs. Gillingham huffed a breath. “Then where is it?”
Mr. Pratt looked at Leonard, narrowing his eyes. “What’s he doing here?”
“He is my protection,” she added, not missing a beat.
This only amused Mr. Pratt further, throwing his head back with another peal of laughter. He brought his head up. “This man?” He jerked a thumb toward Leonard. “You must be kidding. He looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly.”
Mrs. Gillingham spared Leonard a quick glance. “He is quite capable, I can assure you.”
“The only thing he looks capable of is frowning at me until I’m so miserable I run off.” Mr. Pratt laughed harder, then addressed Leonard. “This lady don’t need your help, sir. So why don’t you save your time and sanity and go off to some fancy ball. This ain’t the life for you.”
Or go home. Which is what Leonard wished to donow. “Can we just move this along, please?” Leonard asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Perhaps it would give off an air of confidence, but truly, it was to keep the chill from his chest.
“Do you know what this little lady has in her reticule?” Mr. Pratt asked, ignoring Leonard’s request entirely.
Leonard’s neck tightened. “No. I didn’t think to ask such an asinine question.”
“Care to show him?” Pratt asked Mrs. Gillingham.
She shook her head, letting her hand with her reticule fall to her side. “The less he knows the better. Now, where is it?”
Mr. Pratt lifted a brow, giving a rather dramatic and unnecessary pause. “It’s down on Chisolm Street.”
“Whose house, exactly?”
“Mr. Fagean’s place.”
“Fagean,” Mrs. Gillingham said, more to herself than anyone else. “Very well. Anything else I should know?”
Pratt’s eyebrows rose as he gave a slow breath. For the first time in this encounter, he seemed to have a sliver of pity for Mrs. Gillingham. “The lady, Mrs. Fagean, is quite partial to the necklace. I’m not sure it will be an easy task to get it back. Unless you avoid speaking to them entirely.” His eyes took on a knowing glint, and Leonard took a half-step forward.
“Now wait a moment. There will be no more stealing.” He lifted an accusatory finger in the air. “I was promised this would all stay above board.”
Mr. Pratt grimaced before leaning toward Mrs. Gillingham. “Seriously. Where did you find this chap? He doesn’t seem your type.”
