“Can you at least give me her address and let me decide for myself?”
Andrew chewed his lip, folding his arms across his desk. “I don’t think that’s ethical.”
“Neither is stealing, but this Mrs. Gillingham does not seem to have a problem with that.”
“I simply can’t believe it.”
“I promise not to tell her how I got her address if you give it to me. Please, Andrew.”
As if hearing the note of desperation in Leonard’s voice, Andrew’s eyes flicked to the top of the paper in his hand. “I have to go to a meeting. And if you discover something while I am away, then it is what it is.” He stood. “Do you still wish me to pull those investments?”
“No, not yet.” Leonard put his fist to his chin.
Nodding, then giving the paper one last look, Andrew strode out of the room.
Leonard leaned forward, taking the top page by the corner and turning it toward him.
There, in all its beauty, sat Mrs. Honora Gillingham’s address.
Chapter Six
Leonard’s hand shook as he lifted it to the knocker. This was completely outside the bounds of normal, polite society. But this was no normal circumstance. Leonard wanted his ring back, and he was willing to do just about anything to get it. He found it unlikely that this Mrs. Gillingham would speak openly of what happened with prying ears around. And with not knowing her schedule, he wasn’t left with many choices.
So here he was.
He gave the knocker three quick raps, then waited to see his fate. It didn’t take long for the door to open, revealing a graying man with rather impressive side whiskers and wiry brows to match.
“Can I help you?” The old man had no qualms about eyeing Leonard from head to toe, his gaze leery beneath his bushy brow.
“Uh, yes.” Leonard cleared his throat. “I would like to see Mrs. Gillingham.”
“And you are?” His body filled the doorframe. While old, he was certainly not a frail sort.
Leonard handed the man his calling card.
“And your purpose for seeing Mrs. Gillingham?” the doorman asked, eyes on the card now in his grip.
Leonard glanced up the street, shifting on his feet. He understood the man’s hesitancy, but how did one explain such a visit? “It is a personal matter.”
“I do not think Mrs. Gillingham is taking visitors at the moment. Perhaps you could try again in a few days. Or weeks.”
The deep baritone of his voice was enough to cause Leonard to pause. But he didn’t have the luxury of time. The longer his item was missing, the less likely it was that he would ever get it back.
A flash of movement from an upstairs window caught Leonard’s gaze. By the time his eyes landed on the paned glass, no one was there. But the slight sway of fabric gave it away. Someone had been watching him.
“Please, if you would be so kind,” Leonard said, gaining a bit of confidence. If the young woman had darted away from the window, she knew who he was, and likely why he was here. “Do tell your mistress that I need to see her. Or I can come back with the constable if that would be more to her liking.”
This gave the old man pause, his body tensing. “One moment, sir.” Before he fully turned about, the young woman herself floated down the stairs, quickly but gracefully, her steps barely making a sound.
“Wilson, do I have a visitor?”
He stepped back from the door. “There is a Mr. Stanton here to see you. I told him you were not accepting visitors, but he was insistent.”
“I told him—” Leonard began.
“You must come in!” Mrs. Gillingham closed the gap to the door, taking Leonard by the arm and pulling him into the entryway. “Excuse Wilson. As a widow, he takes extra precautions with me. You understand, of course. I am but a single woman all alone. Quite helpless really.”
Leonard’s mind scrambled to catch up with the quick change of events. He barely had time to register the home as he was whisked to a rather opulent morning room. Mrs. Gillingham waved a hand toward a chair, which Leonard took mutely as he listened to the young woman ramble.
