“Yes, but who is Lady Sheers?” Mrs. Rose said. “I believe I know every lady in the ton, and I know of no such woman. I do not even think I know of a Lord Sheers, or anyone with that name. There is no such noble house, to my knowledge.”
“No, and no lady would have a permanent address in the Rows. Perhaps it is an alias,” Kehinde said.
“Precisely my thoughts. But we cannot be sure. We must go to her. She might be the only person who really knows what happened to Persephone.”
“Now?” Mrs. Rose asked. “But it’s your wedding night! You and your new husband…”
“Have an understanding. I will send him a card and tell him I am running late. I must go now. I have waited months for information like this. For all we know, she could be packing to leave the city at this moment, now that the season is through.”
Kehinde and Percival shared a look. Percival cleared his throat. “Elswyth—”
“And I won’t hear any business of you trying to stop me. I am a member of the peerage now, and I no longer need a chaperone—”
“Elswyth—” Percival said.
“And I do not need your permission to—”
“Elswyth!” Kehinde said, cutting her off. “We’re going with you.”
Elswyth looked to Percival and then to Kehinde. “Really?”
Kehinde nodded. “I taught you to fight for yourself. That does not mean I will not fight beside you.”
Elswyth looked to Percival. “I thought you didn’t believe me,” she said.
“This letter changes things. I am sorry that we doubted you, Elswyth.”
Percival moved to the wall and examined the rifle that hung alongside his trophies.
“And if Prince Oliver really is to blame for Persephone’s disappearance… We will find a way to bring him to justice. No matter the cost.”
Elswyth clutched the letter tightly in her hands. She felt like she could shout for joy. For once, they believed her. They were going to help her.
“And I as well,” Mrs. Rose said.
Elswyth turned, surprised. Mrs. Rose fidgeted, her hat in her hands.
“What? Mrs. Rose, are you sure?”
She nodded. “I don’t know if I will have much to offer. But if Prince Oliver is somehow behind the murders of those women… I suppose that I have a duty to protect them. I know a little girl from the Rows who would be very disappointed in me if I did not.”
She smiled, but her face was pale, her eyes distant. Elswyth nodded.
“Very well. Then we leave at once.”
“Now? Don’t you want to change out of your wedding dress?” Mrs. Rose said.
Elswyth shook her head and then gestured to the window. Outside, the gold of sunset settled over the city. “No. It’s almost dark. Oleander and I are supposed to leave London tonight. If we go, it must be now.”
Kehinde nodded. “I shall fetch the carriage.”
Percival followed him toward the door. “And I the rifles,” he said. He stopped by Elswyth and put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. Behind it, she saw worry in his eyes.
By the time their carriage reached the Rows, the sun had set. Fog rose and ran in rivers through the streets and alleys, leaving the cobblestones wet and shining. The carriage rattled deeper and deeper into the twisting bowels of London with Mrs. Rose and Uncle Percival sitting across from Elswyth. She kept her eye out the window, on the fog and on the shadows that marched through it. Gaslight lit the way, hanging over brothels and druggists and factories, tenements and lopsided houses.
“We are here,” Kehinde called down. He brought the horses to a halt, and the carriage slowed. A few moments later, he opened the door and extended a hand to Elswyth. She stepped out, her wedding gown dragging in the dirt. Before her was a narrow alleyway covered in ivy. Most of the leaves had fallen to the ground, but a few remained on the vines, bright red against the stone walls. A hand-carved wooden sign hung on chains above the entryway, readingAPOTHECARY. Through the vines, at the end of the narrow passage, she could see a small house with a thatched roof and half-timber walls. A rush of autumn wind whipped through the alley as though it were the throat of a beast, breathing down her neck.
Elswyth stepped toward the entrance, and Percival fell in stepbehind her, limping without his cane. He carried a long big-game rifle in its stead, and Elswyth could see the handle of a pistol peeking from the pocket of his overcoat. She turned and raised a hand to stop them.
