Thirty-Three
AmeliaenteredMadameFortier’sshop on Bond Street that afternoon with a keen sense of anticipation. One of the gowns she’d ordered had required apparently only minor adjustments, and was ready for a final fitting.
“It has been a long while since I last had a new gown,” she murmured to Yvette as the doorbell chimed their arrival.
“Indeed. I’m quite excited about it.” The maid’s obvious anticipation further increased Amelia’s own. “The color is so flattering on you, madam.”
How nice to have someone who shared her enthusiasm.
Yet not for a moment had she forgotten that Dr. Thorne was the reason she had ordered a new gown. Henry was getting closer to solving the case, based on what he’d shared the previous evening during his brief visit. Possibly even today, given what he’d discovered thus far.
And soon, Amelia would know how Louisa fared.
She’d been touched by Henry’s concern that she was upset when he hadn’t been able to join her for dinner, but foiled plans were to be expected when one was being courted by an inspector from Scotland Yard.
Courted. When would she become accustomed to the notion? The question had her smiling, even as a small thrill ran through her.
“Mrs. Greystone, how nice to see you,” Sally, the young woman she’d worked with before, greeted her with a warm smile. “I think you’ll be quite pleased with the gown. Shall we see if any additional adjustments need to be made?”
She showed them to a private dressing room in the back and brought out the gown.
Amelia brushed a hand over the cinnamon silk, the color even more pleasing than she remembered. “It truly is lovely.”
“Shall we try it on?”
With the seamstress’s assistance, Amelia soon stood before the tall mirror, turning side to side, pleased with the lines and how it fit. A new gown. Strange how such a small thing could bring such happiness.
However, she couldn’t help but note Sally’s worried expression in the mirror.
Amelia turned to the seamstress. “May I ask if anything is amiss?”
The young woman clasped her hands together, brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, madam. It’s just that I was wondering— That is, I wanted to ask…”
When it was clear she couldn’t bring herself to finish the question, Amelia whispered, “If you’re curious as to whether I mentioned your previous customer to my friend, yes, I did. He had a conversation with the lady. From what I understand, it helped them both. Your name was never mentioned, nor was the shop. I promise.”
Sally nodded, glancing nervously at Yvette, before returning her attention to Amelia. “Thank you, that’s good to know.”
Yet still she did not appear relieved.
“Is there something else?” Amelia asked.
“I only wondered—well, what was happening, because Dr. Thorne came by an hour or so ago to pick up the gowns she’d ordered without notice. Not all of them were done.” The seamstress shook her head, wringing her hands. “It was the strangest thing. She brought a trunk with her and ordered us to pack the gowns directly in it, some of them still pinned together. Can you imagine?”
Amelia and Yvette shared a confused look.
“Why on earth would she do that?” Amelia asked.
“She said she’s boarding a ship today to leave the country, that she has a new opportunity in America.” Sally shook her head. “She didn’t act particularly happy about it. In fact, she appeared rather distressed. Frantic, almost.”
“Oh, dear.” Amelia’s thoughts raced. She could only suppose the doctor had somehow discovered the police were closing in and intended to leave before they caught her. “Did she mention anything else? Perhaps the name of the ship, or where exactly she was going in America?”
The seamstress frowned. “I think—New York City. That’s all I know, I’m afraid.”
“Mrs. Greystone?” Yvette asked, eyes wide. “Should we hurry to Scotland Yard?”
“Yes, we most definitely should.” Amelia glanced down at the new gown, not wanting to waste time changing yet again. “I’ll wear this out,” she told Sally briskly as Yvette gathered Amelia’sthings from the nearby chair, including the gown she’d worn earlier.
“But Mrs. Greystone,” Sally began, clearly confused by the rush.
