“Hello, Mavis.”
“Good evening, Mr. Greedy, Mr. Peeky,” she said as the two men appeared before them.
What was wrong with these people? The hour was not young and the air cool, and yet they were out here wandering about like it was a summer’s day.
“Good evening to you also, Lord Talbot,” Mr. Peeky said as if finding him striding about London with Mavis was a nightly occurrence.
“Lord Talbot was hurt, Mr. Greedy. A footpad attacked him,” Mavis said.
Mr. Greedy stepped up in front of Ambrose as Mavis had, forcing him to a halt.
“Where are you hurt, my lord?”
“I am well.”
“I can see you are not. Were you struck on the head?” The man lifted a hand and touched the side of his face.
“No, just a glancing blow off the side of the face, and my shoulder. I really am all right.”
“Well now, perhaps you are all right, but you need your bed. A small amount of tonic would help to heal the muscles in your shoulder and some salve for your face. I’ll send some over to you.”
“Really, there is no?—”
“Mavis, find a hackney, please,” Mr. Peeky said. “Lord Talbot needs his bed.”
Even his family did not fuss over him like this, he wasn’t entirely sure if he was humbled or humiliated.
“I really am—” A shrill whistle had him looking to where Mavis now stood in the middle of the street. Seconds later, a hackney pulled up.
“Now, a little tea with a nip of whisky and a hot bath will help, my lord. See you have both those upon your return home,” Mr. Greedy said. “I’ll get those things to you tomorrow.”
He was bundled into the hackney like a child and his address given to the driver. Ambrose had no idea how they knew where he lived, but then he’d long since given up wondering how the residents of Crabbett Close knew things.
Only when he’d bathed and was sitting up in bed, sipping tea laced with whisky, which was surprisingly good, did he give thought to his next steps to do with what had happened tonight.
Tomorrow he was to visit that plot of land in the East End with regards to building a housing complex on it. If he got the chance and depending on who was there, he’d speak to the Nightingales about everything that had transpired.
It worried him that Tilly could be reckless and did not take direction well, which, if he was honest, he loved—liked—most about her, yet it could be her downfall if there was danger lurking beneath the street and she ventured down to check the door.
He had to keep her safe; no other option would do.
CHAPTER 13
“Are you sure this is the place you wanted me to stop, madam?”
Tilly looked up at the driver as she stood beside the carriage. She wasn’t sure of anything but said, “Yes, but if I give you money, would you return shortly? I will not take long,” Tilly said casting a nervous glance around.
“I will return for you in twenty minutes, madam, and if you are not here then I shall leave,” the driver said.
“Thank you,” It was the best she could hope for, so she’d take it. God willing, she would be back on this spot in twenty minutes. If not, she would have to find another hackney.
As she walked away after handing over more money, the clop of hooves sounded loud in her ears. Tilly stomped down the panic.
She’d gone to The Iris early, as her parents were away for the night, visiting friends, and she had no need to hurry home, as long as she did so before dark.
It had been the conversation Tilly had with Margaret this morning about needing more staff in the club that brought Ruby to the forefront of her mind once more.
Why had she not returned to the employment she’d been offered? Ruby had seemed eager to do so, but there had been no sign of her since.
