Page 10 of The Cutthroat Countess

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Elliot didn’t have to wait long at the ticket box before one of the Fayre employees, a lad-of-all-work named Richie, came to fetch him back to see Helen.

“Did something happen to Jo?” the newest owner of Farnham’s Fantastical Female Fayre demanded the second the boy left them alone in her small business office.

“I don’t know,” Elliot admitted. He’d thought about how to approach Helen the entire way over. He didn’t know the woman very well—she’d come along after Elliot’s brief stint as a Fayre employee last year—but he did know that she was calm, level-headed, and practical.

“She was here this morning briefly,” Helen said, not needing Elliot to explain—yet another point in her favor. “She gave me a message for you if something should happen.”

Elliot’s heart leapt—partly in joy, partly with fear. “Yes?”

“She said she was going to see a mutual acquaintance today—that it required her renting a hack so she could be back in time for a ball tonight. I take it she didn’t return?”

“No. If she rented a horse, she probably rode astride?”

Helen nodded. “She changed into her disguise while she was here.” She gave him a worried smile. “I’ll be honest; I didn’t even recognize her by the time she was finished.”

“Gray hair, clothing that made her look blocky, and thick spectacles?”

“That sums it up.”

“And that’s all she said—a mutual acquaintance?”

“Yes. She said you’d know whom she meant.”

“Did she bring anything with her? A satchel, perhaps?”

“Not that I saw. She told me her entire trip was only about twenty miles and that she should be back by five o’clock at the latest.”

The only mutual acquaintance they had who lived within that range was Daniel Morrison. Everyone else they knew lived in London right now. Well, except for Guy and Cecile, but they were in France, not on the outskirts of the city.

If she’d gone to see Morrison, that could only mean she’d discovered something new.

Oh, God, Jo. What have you learned?

Helen cleared her throat, and he looked up from his anxious musing. “Yes?”

“She gave me something before she left.” Helen found a key on the chatelain she wore and opened a drawer in the desk. She glanced up at him and pulled the drawer all the way out. “It’s got a false side,” she explained, pushing the side of the drawer to expose a narrow hiding spot. She pulled out several tightly folded sheets of paper and handed them to him. “Perhaps this might explain what she was doing?”

His fingers trembled as he unfolded the sheets.

Elliot recognized what this must be immediately. “Good God,” he muttered, looking up. “Did she say where she found these?”

Helen shook her head. “She just asked me to copy them while she got ready to leave. She took the originals with her.”

Where the devil had she found them?

“Is she in danger, Mr. Wingate?”

Elliot shook himself and met the woman’s concerned gaze. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But I’m going to find out.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Elliot smiled. “Actually, there are several favors I must ask.”

“Please, I’d love to help.”

“Could I trouble you for a piece of paper and something to write with? I need to send two messages before I leave.”