At the promise, his gaze flicked to her face, suspicious. She stood, remembering her own breakfast of toast and preserves. Alice had eaten until her belly was full. Had this boy ever done that? It was then she heard the voices, low whispers from behind her.
“Madam said one of them gave a fake name,” a woman said. “They’ve made her and Gideon uneasy. Even two weeks on, they’re still nervous. Especially since one of them stole his ledger. We must make certain no one knows they spoke to us,Molly. But this could be our chance to put a bit aside. For when we need it.”
Alice’s head turned fractionally, her ears straining. Two women sat near the door, close together in dresses patched with bright ribbons meant to distract from their worn hems. The taller wore a smudge of rouge on her cheeks. The other, round-faced with yellow ribbons, twisted her shawl between nervous fingers until the wool squeaked.
“I asked Mary about the man who attacked her,” the first woman continued. “She didn’t name Kenneth Jackson, but it’s him, I swear. Matches the description the gent gave us when he came to our rooms two weeks ago and offered to give us money for information.”
Alice’s pulse kicked.Kenneth Jackson.
“He was a right handsome one,” the second said. “All three of them were, but that one had the look of trouble in his eyes if you ask me.”
“All hell broke loose downstairs when they walked in, so Neil told me,” the first said. “They tried to hide it, but they were definitely noblemen to my mind. Madam and Gideon are fuming, and want answers, so we need to be careful.”
Noblemen. Alice’s breath caught. Could it be Lords Stafford, Hamilton, and Corbyn they spoke of? Were these women from the Crimson Serpent that Huckle had talked about? The thought struck like cold water. Betrayal stung.
The agreement she and Lord Stafford had, had been clear. They would tell each other everything concerning Jackson. No secrets. No private investigations. The danger was too great otherwise. Yet surely here was proof he had gone behind her back, if she could confirm it. Two weeks ago, the woman had said, they’d entered that brothel, and Lord Stafford had neither approached Alice nor sent word, if indeed it was him.
She crossed to the women, with a polite smile even though her heart thundered. She needed more proof. “Good morning, ladies.”
Both startled, their eyes widening before they scrambled to their feet, dropping untidy curtsies. Their perfume was so strong it stung her nose.
“Are you here to see the doctor?” Alice asked.
“We are, my lady,” the taller one said. “Molly’s got an awful earache.”
Alice’s gaze softened despite herself. “Then he shall see you soon. In the meantime…” She let the pause hang, then lowered her voice. “I overheard you mention Kenneth Jackson. And a gentleman who wished you to send word if you came by any information.”
They froze, and fear flickered across their faces. Their eyes darted to one another, then back to her.
“Do not be afraid,” Alice said, gentling her tone. “One of the noblemen you spoke of, I’m quite sure, is my friend. We are investigating the man, Jackson, together.”
Molly licked her lips. “Your friend?”
“You can trust me. Can you tell me what he asked of you?”
The round-faced girl twisted her shawl again. “He wanted to know if any of our girls ever saw a man named Kenneth Jackson. Said to send word if we did. That’s all. Honest, my lady. He paid us a sovereign and said to be careful.”
“Did he describe Jackson to you?” Alice pressed.
“Aye,” Molly said with a little shiver. “Mary swore that was the man who hurt her. Wouldn’t give a name, but… it was him. He hurt another, too. A new girl, but we were told to keep our mouths shut, or we’d be sent packing.”
Alice knew what Kenneth Jackson was capable of. The ledger… a record of clients? Debts? Blackmail? If Stafford hadstolen it, the danger to anyone named within those pages would be a fuse already lit.
“And do you ladies work in the Crimson Serpent?”
They both nodded.
She drew a coin from her reticule and pressed it into Molly’s hand. “Thank you for telling me. And I promise my friend will not mind.”
“Is he your beau?” Molly asked, clutching the money. “He’s a handsome one, if he is.”
“No,” Alice said too quickly. “We are only friends.”
Someone let out a hacking cough, and a child whimpered. Dr. Hammond then appeared in the doorway, spectacles askew, and beckoned the two women she’d been speaking with forward. “Next, if you please.”
Alice stepped back to let them pass, and then turned away, the stiff smile on her face falling the moment they were out of sight. Walking out into the hallway, she sank onto a bench.
Her fingers curled into fists. Stafford had lied to her. Not in words, perhaps, but in silence. Their pact had been to share everything, and he’d broken it. If he could not trust her with his actions, how could she trust him at all?
