Her parents had never taught her how to follow a man for today’s purpose. They had shown her how to follow a man to pick his pocket, should she ever be reduced by necessity to relying on such a low crime.
He never noticed her as she walked behind him. His flat hat bobbed above the crowd while he took his time and turned this way and that. She memorized the path while she walked it. Finally, he entered a building on Drover Street.
It looked to be a house much like she and Katherine had lived in. Not a gentleman’s house, although it may have been one fifty years ago. Sounds of people talking and mothers scolding children emerged from it. Two little girls played with cloth dolls on the front steps.
She stopped to admire the dolls. “I had one like that when I was little.”
One girl eyed her warily, but the other beamed and held up her doll. “Her name is Sophia. She is a princess.”
“And a fine princess she is.”
“Mine is a duchess,” the other girl said. “Her name is Felicity.”
“I am honored to be introduced to you, Your Royal Highness. Your Grace.” She made a little curtsy and the girls giggled.
She fussed over the dolls a while longer. “A man just entered here a few minutes ago. I think I recognized him as a friend of my father’s.”
“You mean Mr. Pritchard? He doesn’t have friends. He is always alone up there.”
“Mama wonders what he does all day in that attic chamber.”
“He doesn’t seem to go to business,” the first one whispered.
“Is Mr. Pritchard’s wife with him? I met her once. She was about my height with black hair and dressed fashionably.”
The girls both shook their heads. “We have never seen her here. He is always alone when he leaves or comes back.”
Amanda curtsied again to the dolls and strolled away while the girls returned to their play.
What bad luck. She had so hoped the man she sought would show himself. He still might, she supposed, unless this go-between intended to deliver that box. She began her stroll again, however, and hoped there would be a fast conclusion to this delivery.
While she tried to appear that she belonged on that street, she calculated whether she had the money to pay someone to share the watch with her if it dragged on for days.
* * *
Amanda entered the building where she now lived. She removed her bonnet and shook off the water. As if standing for an entire day had not been bad enough, rain began at nightfall. She’d found some shelter under eaves while she’d watched Mr. Pritchard’s building, but the walk home had drenched her.
He had not left his home again. No one had entered the building that did not appear to live there, except a young man delivering a big basket of food. She would have to rise before dawn and resume her observation of the building.
She went down the stairs and let herself into her chamber. She hung her bonnet on a peg to dry, then began peeling off her soaked dress.
She froze with the sleeves halfway down her arms when a sense of danger burst in her. Panic rose in her blood. Another presence announced itself to her instincts.
“Do not let me cause you to stop, Amanda. Whatever you show of your body will hardly be a new revelation.”
She pivoted, grasping the dress to her. She peered through the dark and saw the duke sitting near the far wall.
He stood and went to the fireplace. He bent and lit some fuel. “Get out of the wet clothes and warm yourself. There is a basket of food here. Eat something.” He stood. The fire’s yellow light illuminated his expression. Her breath caught on seeing the hard edges hewn by anger.
She made quick work of the dress and pulled on a dry one. She went over and poked through the basket. Bread, cheese, and ham. No champagne. Of course not. Its presence might have indicated he had found her for good reasons, not the one she feared.
He retook his chair. “There was no food here so I sent to a tavern for that. Since you have been gone most of the day, I doubted you had eaten much.”
“You have been here a long while, then.”
“Since morning.”
She broke off a piece of cheese and munched. “How did you find me?”
