It was doubtful Monty would know where Admiral Hoddle would retreat to.
The skittering of rock against rock had them both turning towards the tunnel entrance. A woman Mira recognized scrambled through and froze upon seeing them. It wasn’t Sibyl, but rather one of the other thieves, Elvina.
“Are you back to purchase more goods?” Elvina asked, setting her things down. She struck a match and lit the lantern she had brought.
“We’re waiting for Sibyl,” Mira said.
“You’re out of luck.” Elvina picked up the lantern in one hand and her case in the other. “She won’t be coming for at a few days at least.”
“Why?” Mrs. Sherard said, glancing at Mira.
“She didn’t say. But when I stopped by earlier today, it seemed she had company.”
Mira couldn’t dare to hope. “Was he tall, with grey hair andmutton chops?”
She narrowed her eyes. “... yes?”
“It’s Hoddle, it has to be.” Mira stepped closer. “Please, can you tell us where Sibyl lives?”
“I’m not sure I—”
“It’s my daughter,” Mrs. Sherard said, coming to stand next to Mira. “That man has abducted my daughter. Her life is at stake. Please.”
Elvina sighed. “She lives in a cottage near Old Bridge. I’ll write the address down for you.”
***
The lights were still on when theyreturned to the Royal Crescent, address in hand. Once stripped of their winter clothes, Mrs. Sherard headed upstairs to check on Castel while Mira went to the sitting room, where she found Byron slumped over the low, Japanese-style table, fast asleep. Beneath him were pages of various ciphers, the sheet music, and scribbled notes. Mira picked up the one closest to her, but it was a mess of gibberish. She crouched beside him, placing a hand on his back and rubbing in slow circles.
“Byron?”
“Hm?”
“It’s time for bed, love.”
“Hrngh.” He lifted his head, eyes bleary. “Mira?”
“Yes.”
He let out a breath. “You’re safe.”
“Of course I am.”
He sat up, considering the papers scattered around him. “What was I doing? I... I’m afraid I don’t remember.”
Mira’s heart ached and she stood, reaching a hand down. “You were going to bed.”
“Was I? No, I recall now, I was...” He rifled through thestack and picked up a packet of papers. “Right. Did you find—”
“Not exactly. We can talk about everything later.”
He nodded and let her help him stand. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. See you in the morning.”
He took one last look around, tucked the packet of papers into his jacket pocket, and padded out of the room, still half asleep.
Mira slumped onto the sofa, rubbing her temples. Even though they knew where Hoddle was keeping Mary, there still was no guarantee of getting her back safely. She picked up the stack of the papers Byron hadn’t taken with him. Dozens of attempts and none of them revealed anything. Maybe Maureen was right about it only being a poor composition.
