It took several minutes before she had the energy to push herself into a sitting position. Shaking, she stared at her hands. The knuckles were cut, her palms covered in dirt. She rubbed them on her trousers in a futile attempt to clean them, then swiped one hand across her brow to get the blood out of her eyes.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as the realization of what had transpired took hold. They’d stolen all of her hard-earned money. Four months’ worth of wages. The means by which to pay the doctor. A sob fell from her lips. Despite the soreness and the occasional sting from her wounds, she pushed herself upward.
Sitting here feeling sorry for herself would not help Lucy.
Neither would returning to her lodgings empty handed. Not when all that remained there was one measly pound. No, the only options available to her now were admitting defeat or seeking help elsewhere. And as much as she loathed the idea of calling upon her friends for financial aid, she’d do it for Lucy.
Decision made, she took a deep breath, then stumbled out of the alleyway and set her course for Westcliffe House.
* * *
Brody hated being late for anything. He considered it inconsiderate to those made to wait for his arrival. But after getting to bed a little after two, he’d overslept and didn’t make it to work until ten. The note he’d received from Ramsgate requesting Finn’s attendance at Hackney Meadows the following morning did little to quicken his pace.
“You should have been here two hours ago,” Mr. Hudson remarked when Brody entered the office. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“My apologies, sir. A family matter delayed me. It won’t happen again.”
“I’ll hold you to that and trust you won’t disappoint.”
“Thank you.” Brody crossed to his desk and dropped his satchel next to his chair. Mr. Hudson followed him over and when Brody turned to face him, he saw that he held a manuscript in his hand.Themanuscript. Unable to resist, Brody jutted his chin toward it. “Have you read it?”
“I have, which is part of the reason why I was so annoyed by your late arrival. I’ve been waiting two hours to congratulate you on finding this brilliant novel. It’s exactly what I’ve been hoping for – a gem of a story that’s sure to delight not only Miss Austen’s fans, but possibly Walter Scott’s too because of the action the author has added to the plot.”
Brody could not conceal his pleasure. He grinned. “That’s wonderful news. I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to hear it.”
Mr. Hudson gave him a curious look. “I must say, I’m not accustomed to my staff being so enthusiastic about a new publishing project. It’s refreshing.”
“I’m thrilled to have found the sort of book you’ve been looking for,” Brody said in an effort to explain his reaction. “It’s exciting.”
“That it is,” Mr. Hudson smiled. “I don’t suppose you’d like to present the author with the offer I wish to provide?”
“It would be an honor.”
“Right then. Here it is.” Mr. Hudson handed Brody a piece of paper he’d folded and sealed with the press’s logo. “I’ll expect you back within two hours, preferably with a signed agreement.”
“I won’t let you down,” Brody promised. “You have my word.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” Mr. Hudson remarked before Brody had managed to tuck the proposal into his jacket’s inside pocket. “When you return, I’d like you to write up a vacancy for a new compositor. As regrettable as it is, I fear Mr. Michaels has left us.”
Brody stilled. “Why do you think that?”
“Because he always sent a note on the few occasions when he was forced to miss work. He hasn’t done so this time.”
“Does that not strike you as odd?” Brody asked, wondering why Harry wasn’t here. It was possible any number of things had come up, but according to Mr. Hudson, not sending word would be uncharacteristic of him.
“It does,” Mr. Hudson admitted. “When you were also missing, I hoped for an explanation involving the both of you, but that clearly isn’t the case. So I have to consider my business. If Mr. Michaels has been incapacitated in some way, I’ll still require a new compositor. Waiting will only lead to printing delays, which is something I cannot afford for any reason.”
Brody understood, but that didn’t ease his concern. “If you can spare me a little while longer, I can stop by his home on my way back. Maybe he’s fallen ill and failed to find a messenger who could deliver a note.”
“You know where he lives?” Mr. Hudson asked in surprise.
“No. Don’t you?”
Mr. Hudson shook his head. “No one here does.”
“Not even Mr. Tomkins?”
“I already asked, but he says that although he has walked with Harry a few times on their way home, he’s never stopped by his actual lodgings.”
