The confirmation. The truth they had all feared.
The girls were not just runaways. They were being kidnapped and sold.A fresh supply.Her fingers dug into her skirts, the fabric twisting under the pressure.
Penny’s voice wavered. ‘When they left the room, I slipped out unnoticed. But, Miss...’ She stepped forward, her face desperate, pleading. ‘Please don’t tell Mr Stone it was me. I don’t want to lose my job... or worse.’
Worse?
Grace’s pulse kicked harder. ‘Penny, why did you not tell anyone before?’ she demanded, sharper than she intended. ‘We have been searching for these girls for weeks—if you knew—’
Penny’s grip on her arm tightened painfully, her eyes suddenly wild with fear. ‘You don’t understand, Miss. Youcan’ttell the constable. Youmust nottell the magistrate.’
Grace froze. ‘Why?’
A sudden noise in the hallway made them both jump. It was Heather’s footsteps reaching her bedchamber. They both released a breath.
Penny’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened.
Her voice was barely a whisper. ‘They are all involved.’
The words struck like a blow. Grace’s mind reeled. ‘What?’
Penny nodded frantically. ‘The constable. The magistrate. I’ve seen them both being paid off by Gibbs and his men. I saw it with my own eyes!’
Grace stepped back, shaken. ‘But—how could this be?’
Penny clenched her jaw. ‘I swear it, Miss. On my day off, I was walking home through the woods behind Farmer Trent’s field. Thick as thieves, they were, passing a purse between them.’ She let out a shuddering breath. ‘If they had seen me...’
She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.
Grace felt sick.
The very men meant to uphold the law—the men they were going to turn to for help—were already bought. She pressed a hand to her temple, her thoughts spiralling. Who else? Who else was part of this nightmare?
She turned to Penny, eyes burning with newfound determination. ‘You did the right thing telling me.’
Penny swallowed hard. ‘Youpromiseyou won’t say it was me?’
Grace caught her hands, holding them tightly. ‘I swear it.’
Penny nodded, then cast one last glance towards the door before slipping out into the hallway.
As soon as she was gone, Grace sank onto the edge of her bed.
Her heart thundered against her ribs. This is bigger than I ever imagined. She had to tell Mr Stone. No one could be trusted—not the constable, not the magistrate. The entire system was compromised.
Her hands curled into fists. We are alone in this. Her gaze flickered toward the candlelight, the flame flickering violently as if reflecting the storm inside her. No one else would fight for these girls. No one else would bring them home.
Except her.
And Mr Stone.
Grace’s hands clenched into fists. Should she wake the others and tell them now, or wait until morning? There was little point in disturbing everyone’s sleep when nothing could be done until daylight. Still, one thing was certain—she would not sleep a wink that night.
GRACE HAD SPENT A SLEEPLESSnight tossing and turning, and by morning, she looked worse for wear. Impatient and exhausted, she waited eagerly for Mr Stone to join her in the study. As soon as he walked through the door, she pounced on him, quickly explaining her conversation with the maid. His expression shifted from concern to grimness.
‘This is terrifying news, Mr Stone. I have lived here all my life, and my sister and I have often taken walks or ridden out unchaperoned. The thought that Heather might have been in danger all this time is unbearable! We must find these poor girls and return them to their families. There must be a way to determine where they were taken in London.’ Grace struggled to keep her composure.
Mr Stone’s expression grew even more solemn. His jaw tightened—the only visible sign of emotion—before he spoke, his voice low but resolute. ‘This confirms what we suspected. I will make enquiries about Madame Jacqueline’s establishment in London. It is time we arranged for Bow Street Runners to conduct formal investigations. I will contact them. Clearly, thelocal constable and magistrate cannot be trusted.’ He paused in contemplation.
