“Yes,” she practically hissed since it was not his concern.
“I shall follow behind in my carriage and guarantee nothing goes amiss,” he insisted.
Adelia rolled her eyes, but as a gang of ne’er-do-wells strolled by, she was grateful Owen was nearby. Letting him assist her into her carriage, she suddenly remembered a question.
Leaning out, she asked, “What did you whisper to me at Miss Moore’s?”
He hesitated but replied, “I said I could not let anything happen to you.”
She wondered if that was truly what he’d said.
Then he added, “No matter how angry you became, I could not leave you there.”
“Oh,” she replied. They stared at one another.
“Just as I cannot let you ride off without making sure you come to no harm by stopping at a tavern and a blasted butcher’s shop. Who is going to tell your maid you are ready to leave?”
“My driver, of course.”
“Leaving you outside and unprotected in the carriage of an obviously wealthy person?”
She bit her lip. “I guess I could go inside the pub and find Penny.”
Owen shook his head. “Let’s stop this foolishness and get underway. I shall fetch your maid and footman.”
Closing the door firmly, he told her driver he would accompany them, and he disappeared from her sight, returning to his own carriage.
Though Adelia could no longer see him, she felt his protection like a warm blanket and knew she would be safe.
*
When Mr. Beaumontshowed up the next day, Adelia felt not the least bit intimidated. After all, she’d had an expedition to the East End—almost by herself. True, she hadn’t discovered the alibi she’d hoped, but she wasn’t finished searching. She had half a mind to write to Miss Moore and ask if she would accompany Adelia to the local pubs where she and Thomas spent usually went. Perhaps some barkeeper or a serving girl would remember them and have a reason to recall that particular night.
It was unlikely, but, for the moment, Adelia was out of ideas. When Mr. Lockley announced the company’s engineer, she felt something akin to relief at being interrupted from her torturous thoughts. Moreover, this time he was not uninvited. She’d sent him a missive to come.
He strode in, and as he had previously done, he grasped her hand and had it to his mouth before she could withdraw it.
“I was concerned to receive your invitation. You wrote it was a matter of some consequence.”
“Please sit down,” Adelia invited him without stuttering or hesitation. “You may have noticed my brother has been unavailable to meet with you to discuss business.”
“Not really,” the man said. “We often go one or two weeks without meeting.”
“Oh.” Perhaps she should have waited until Mr. Beaumont sent a letter to the house addressed to Thomas. Still, it was inevitable. “My brother has been charged with a crime he did not commit and is currently at Newgate prison, awaiting trial.”
Shock transformed the man’s amiable face. “I don’t understand. How can this be?”
“I am working to secure his release, or at the very least, his acquittal.”
Leaning forward, he asked, “Have you enlisted the services of a solicitor? I may know someone—”
She held up her hand. “I have already done so. Thank you.”
He sat back, shaking his head. “Frankly, I am astonished. But I do have contacts at the Inns of Court,” he added. “If you wish to tell me the name, perhaps I know him or, at least, his reputation.”
“Of course. His name is Mr. Brassel, and he came highly recommended.”
Mr. Beaumont nodded noncommittally, and Adelia couldn’t tell whether he knew of him or not.
