Closing the door behind them, Kat said, “I intend to find you a wealthy husband, Miss Ellen. One hundred and fifty pounds will not last long if we stay in inns—on this one night alone, we have already spent the best part of five shillings. Between travel, my new clothes, and this inn, we have gone through nearly three pounds. We need to be wise if we’re to establish you for life with a man worth having.”
Miss Ellen chuckled. “Seriously, Kat? I am twenty-three and was not particularly popular with the gentlemen even five years ago, when I had my first and only Season, which was, as you know, cut short when Father died. No one has ever seriously courted me, and they are unlikely to do so when my only dowry is whatever we have remaining of my one hundred and fifty pounds. Kat, you can do most things, and you are a wonder. But if you can find me a man worth marrying who wants to marry me, you are a magician.”
“Perhaps I am,” Kat mused. “A stage magician, at least. Miss Ellen, I shall tell you everything, I promise, but I have one person I need to speak with first. I shall need to go out shortly to visit that person. If she does not agree, I shall have to come up with another plan, but if she does, I will tell you all about my first plan. Trust me forone more day?”
“Of course,” said Miss Ellen, without hesitation. “I trust you always, Kat. You are my dearest friend.”
And that, right there, was why Kat would do anything and everything possible for Miss Ellen and her future happiness.
Chapter Four
London
Jake and CaptainHarraway managed to find homes for most of the envelopes the following day. Some recipients burst into tears of relief. Some demanded to know whether the captain was the blackmailer, and what his game was now. People came in all kinds.
There were two envelopes left by evening, and the captain knew both addressees. “They will be at the Lyon’s Den this evening, Jake,” he said. “We’ll wrap these in plain paper and hand them over tonight.”
The flaw in the plan was the presence of Lieutenant Waterford, but Captain Harraway didn’t care. “Let him see us, Jake. What is he going to do?”
The captain’s nonchalance had nearly been the death of them both more than a few times during their army years. To be sure, his courage and his flair for strategy and combat had prevented disaster every time, but surely a few sensible precautions would keep them from walking into trouble in the first place?
Waterford was a coward, which the captain said when Jake pointed out the risks, but even a rat will bite when cornered.
Despite Jake’s low-voiced objections, the captain hailed one of the men publicly and handed over his package. Then he did the same withthe other. Waterford watched both exchanges, and Jake watched Waterford.
He was unsurprised when, on the way home, he and the captain were attacked by a gang of footpads. Jake called the alarm, the captain shook off the effects of the alcohol he had downed and drew the hidden blade from his walking stick, and the pair of them made such a good account of themselves, that the encounter was soon over. The four men still standing fled into a dark alley, and Jake and the captain walked away, leaving the other two in the street, one groaning and one unconscious.
“That was fun,” said Captain Harraway.
“That was Waterford,” said Jake. “Six men with clubs and knives to attack two? Waterford, I’ll lay you odds.”
“Probably.” The captain shrugged. “He always was a poor loser. And cheap, too. Those men had no idea how to fight. We can cope with anything he hurls at us, Jake.”
Jake hoped so. He sincerely hoped so.
The village of Ealing on the Uxbridge Road
Carr Abbas wasa fine manor set in the center of a well-established park and surrounded by healthy and productive tenant farms. Walking up the path from the village, Kat noticed that the woods showed signs of inadequate management, with undergrowth that should have been cleared, hazels and willows overdue for coppicing, and several fallen trees left where they lay instead of being sawn and cleared away.
The house showed the same faded grandeur. Ivy had almost covered several windows, paint was faded and flaking, and weeds were overtaking the cobbles in the corners of the yard.
Kat knocked on the kitchen door and, when it was answered, told the little maid, “Kat Fivepence to see Mrs. Kirby.”
She waited on the doorstep while the maid took the message to Mrs. Kirby. It could not have been more than a minute before Mrs. Kirby herself emerged into the passage that led from the door. “Fivepence?” She peered at Kat, frowning. “Kat Fivepence?”
Kat removed her cap. “Yes, Mrs. Kirby. It is I. I bring news of Miss Ellen.” That should convince the housekeeper of her identity, despite her masculine apparel. She hoped.
“Come in and tell me all about it,” commanded Mrs. Kirby. “Maudie, a pot of tea with two cups and whatever Cook can spare. This way, Fivepence.”
The maid disappeared through a door to the right, and Mrs. Kirby led Kat further along the passage, and into a room on the left. It was the housekeeper’s sitting room from its furnishings—a couch and two easy chairs, a table and chairs, and a well-used desk in the corner.
The room, like the house and park, showed signs of fading glory. All the upholstery needed to be replaced, and the thin carpet over the flagstone floor had been darned in several places.
“Now, Kat,” said Mrs. Kirby. “Tell me why you are here, and in men’s clothing. And how is Miss Ellen?”
Kat explained with a bald outline of the situation. “Miss Ellen is well, and staying at The Feathers. Lady Miller died, and there was no place for Miss Ellen with either of her sisters. I’m traveling as a man because Miss Ellen is safer with a footman than with a maid.”
“I see. What are your plans, you scamp? For I am certain you have some.”
