It wouldn’t be easy. Helena knew every dark street and filthy alcove in the rookeries. She could choose to make herself elusive if she wished. Emma could only pray Lady Clifford’s men would find her before the man who’d taken Caroline began to suspect Helena knew his secrets, and found her himself.
“I debated whether or not to even tell you this, Emma. Even now, I’m not certain I’ve made the right choice, but I felt you needed to know we no longer have anyone inside the Pink Pearlto assist us.”
A sob caught in Emma’s throat. “I’ll find Helena, my lady. I’ll search until I—”
“No, you won’t. This business with Lymington House isn’t over, Emma. It’s taken us weeks to pull it together, and we won’t get another chance at it.” Lady Clifford’s voice was as calm as ever, but there was an unmistakable edge to it that spoke more clearlythan her words.
They were moving on as planned, with orwithout Helena.
Theyhad no choice.
Lady Crosby slid her hand into Emma’s empty one, cold inside her glove. “Lady Clifford is right, Emma. Think of those poor girls that havegone missing.”
“Missing, at best. At worst, they’re dead, and they won’t be the last to meet such a disastrous fate if we don’t put an end to whatever evil is unfolding at Lymington House. The servants there are in no less danger for Helena’s having gonemissing, Emma.”
The carriage came to an abrupt stop then. Emma peered out the window, and saw they’d arrived at Vauxhall Gardens. A row of fine carriages was lined up in front of the gate at Kennington Lane, ready to disgorge their elegant passengers.
“Look at me, Emma.” Lady Clifford lay a hand on Emma’s arm to get her attention. “You’re to go on just as you have been. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Very good. Go on, then. Lady Silvester and Lady Flora will be looking for you.” Lady Clifford retreated into the heavier shadows in the corner of the carriage, and turned her face toward the window.
It was a dismissal, and after all, what was there left to say? Helena was gone, absorbed into the London streets like hundreds of other girls before her, neither her existence nor her disappearance causing a rippleon the surface.
Emma stumbled on the carriage step, only Daniel’s firm hand under her arm keeping her from sprawling onto the street. “Steady now, lass,” he muttered as he caught her, and he wasn’t referring to the steps.
Steady,steady, steady…
Emma repeated the word over and over in her head as she and Lady Crosby made their way from Kennington Lane toward the supper boxes on the far side of the Grand South Walk.
Lady Silvester and Lady Flora were waiting for them there, with Lord Lovell on one side of Lady Flora, and on the other…
Samuel, his dark eyes burning as he watched her approach.
* * * *
Samuel despised Vauxhall Gardens with the unrelenting heat of a thousand suns. Of all the entertainments on offer during the London season, this was the very last one he would have chosen to endure this evening.
He wasn’t sure how he’d allowed himself to be coaxed into it, but they’d been here for less than an hour, and he already regretted it. The loud laughter and the endless drone of chatter around him was makinghis head ache.
Or was thatthe champagne?
It was flat, and left a sour taste on his tongue, but Samuel lifted the glass to his lips and forced down another swallow. Even dreadful champagne was preferable to sobrietyat the moment.
“What ails you tonight, Lymington?” Lovell muttered, leaning closer to Samuel to be heard. “For God’s sake, you’ve got a full glass of champagne in your hand and a supper box of lively company to entertain you. What more coulda man ask for?”
“A decent supper? Musicians who know how to tune their instruments, perhaps?” Vauxhall’s orchestra was abominable. Every false note clanged through Samuel’s aching head like a crash of cymbals. “I’d settle for a single moment of peace.”
“This is London during the season, cousin. There’s not a moment of peace to be had. Come now, there’s no need to look so grim. It’s apleasuregarden, if you recall. Neither Lady Emma nor Lady Flora have been here before. It will be good fun to show them the Cascade. I’m certain they’ll be delighted with it.”
Samuel glanced across the supper box where Lady Emma sat. She was flanked by Lady Crosby on one side and Lady Silvester on the other, looking far from delighted.
She’d hardly spoken a word to anyone since she arrived. She was as lovely as ever—so much so it made his chest ache to look at her, but she appeared…distracted tonight. Her gaze darted over the crowd as if she were looking for someone, and both her supper plate and the glass of champagne at her elbow remained untouched.
Something was wrong, but Samuel knew he’d never get a word out of her as long as she was tucked between the two grandmothers. He rose abruptly to his feet, and held out his hand to her. “Shall we walk, Lady Emma? You must be curious to see all the delights the gardens have to offer, having never been to Vauxhall before.”
“No, thank you, Lord Lymington. I don’t…” She trailed off, her attention caught by a raucous party of gentlemen and a half-dozen or so demireps who’d just risen from a supper box nearby. Lord Peabody was among the party, and Samuel also recognized Clarissa, the redheaded courtesan from the Pink Pearl. With much shouting and laughter, they disappeared down one of the garden pathways.
