Miss Longacre hesitated. “Of course. It was my pleasure. I’m glad to have brought you some cheer.”
“Well… I shall be on my way.” Victoria hurried along the passage, only to find her path blocked by Miss Longacre.
“Tarry a moment, will you?” she asked.
“Me?”
Miss Longacre nodded. “Come into my chamber for a while. As it happens, there was something I wanted to speak with you about, also.”
Curious, Victoria followed Miss Longacre to her chamber and stepped inside. After all, she could better protect the young woman if she was near to her. Although, she didn’t quite understand what Miss Longacre would have to say to her, unless it had something to do with the eligible Lord Galbury.
“What can I do for you, Miss Longacre?” Victoria cleared her through, as she moved further into the room.
“I know you.”
Victoria faltered. “Pardon?”
“I didn’t say so before, but I know you.” Miss Longacre gestured for her to sit by the fire. “Every few weeks, I offer my assistance at the orphanage in Poplar. I saw you there once, several months ago. You brought in a brother and sister who had just lost their mother, after their father had murdered her. You didn’t see me, but I heard you tell their story to the proprietor. You threatened him and told him that if any harm befell those children, you would come back and bring the full might of Bow Street with you. When you left, you kissed those children on the forehead and promised they would be safe. I never forgot it. And I have made sure those children were safe, ever since. In fact, I urged my father to become their benefactor, because of you.”
Victoria gaped at her.
“I wondered who you were and asked the proprietor,” she continued. “He told me you were a notable investigator, who solved crimes and cases across London. At first, I didn’t believe him, but others corroborated his story. I discovered that you were the one who caught that wretch—the one who murdered his wife, and the mother of those sweet children. He would have walked free, had you not.”
“Why did you not say anything earlier, if you knew I lied?” Victoria found her voice.
Miss Longacre smiled. “Because I knew there must be a reason for your untruth. I contemplated it all evening and came to the conclusion that it had something to do with these recent kidnappings, as you were accompanying Lord Galbury. Seeing you in that passageway confirmed it.”
“As perceptive as you are beautiful. It is a wonder the King of England is not pursuing you to be his wife.” Victoria remarked. “I suppose I should introduce my true self. I am Victoria McCarthy.”
Miss Longacre nodded. “I know. I asked after your name when I found out that you really were what the orphanage proprietor said you were. But am I correct in my assumptions?”
“You are.” Victoria almost felt sorry to be the bearer of grim news, but it was better to have Miss Longacre fully informed. “I am here to protect you.”
“So, I am in danger?” Miss Longacre turned her gaze into the flames, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“Not if I can help it,” Victoria replied. “I am working under the assumption that you may be targeted, given the wealth of your family, and the fact that you possess a similar aesthetic to the ladies who have been taken before you. Most of them, anyway.”
Miss Longacre clasped her hands together until her knuckles whitened. “Then I am grateful that you are here, Miss McCarthy. Although, if I may ask, where is Lord Galbury?”
“Victoria, please. Or McCarthy—whichever you feel more comfortable with,” Victoria insisted. “As for His Lordship; he is keeping watch in the gardens. That is why I was in the passageway beside your chambers, so I could signal my whereabouts to him.”
“He is working with you?” Miss Longacre sounded stunned.
“He is, in order to return Lady Helena to her family.”
She relaxed slightly. “That makes perfect sense. I don’t know why I was so surprised.”
“Perhaps because it is relatively unheard of, for a member of high society to involve themselves so directly in a case,” Victoria suggested. She may have admired Miss Longacre, but nothing could dampen her dislike for the upper echelons.
“Perhaps,” Miss Longacre agreed.
“Now, you ought to retire for the night. You must be exhausted from your coming-out ball, or whatever this evening was in aid of.” Victoria folded her legs as delicately as she could, beneath the mass of fabric. “I will stay awake, and alert you if there is any sign of foul play afoot.”
Miss Longacre smiled. “This is most unusual.”
“Does your lady’s maid not attend on you in such a fashion?”
“I prefer to see to my own evening toilet, and she certainly does not stand guard over me as I sleep,” Miss Longacre laughed, that sweet sound drifting over Victoria. “But, as I said before, I am grateful to have you here, McCarthy. I haven’t slept well since the kidnappings began. I believe I may rest easier, knowing I have such a formidable watchwoman.”
Victoria peered at the young lady. “Do you really offer your assistance to the orphanage at Poplar?” She knew the one Miss Longacre referred to, though it seemed outlandish that such a woman would set foot in such a place.
“I do. My father instilled in me the importance of sharing the wealth that we accumulate in life, but that does not always mean giving money to those in need. Sometimes, they need food, or comfort, or a kind word to let them know that there is some hope in this world.” Miss Longacre sighed sadly. “That is particularly true for children who have lost everything.”
“You have a good heart, Miss Longacre,” Victoria said. “There are not many born to a station such as yours who would think that way. Most are concerned with hoarding their wealth, and never contemplate sharing it with those in need.”
“We are not all alike, McCarthy.”
Victoria paused. “No… I suppose you are most definitely not.”
Her mind turned to Christian, who had proven that he, too, was unlike the high society elite that Victoria had seen in her three-and-twenty years. He was not afraid to get his hands dirty, and he had followed her instruction at every turn.
I am receiving quite the education tonight.
With all said between the two women, Miss Longacre prepared for bed whilst Victoria warmed herself by the hearth. An awkward moment presented itself, as Miss Longacre slipped beneath the sheets and muttered a cursory “Goodnight” to Victoria. She parroted a reply, not wanting to seem rude, but it felt very strange indeed to wish Miss Longacre a goodnight, when she did not know if any good would come once she fell asleep.
Chapter 13
Christian waited in the shadows of a rounded shrub and breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw the candle flickering in the first-floor window at the far left of the house.
What if the devils are already in the household? He had listened to Victoria’s suggestion regarding Sir John and Lord Mobberley, but he couldn’t refute the nagging doubt that she may be wrong. Then again, if they were the culprits, the staff would be sure to notice them ascending the staircase. He had to resign himself to that hope as he continued to wait.
He crouched low to the ground, trying to ignore the creeping chill that slithered through his body. He wished he had thought to bring an overcoat, but there had been no time, and his mind had been so preoccupied with thoughts of Victoria that he had neglected to pluck one up on his way out of his home.
He sat there for what felt like an eternity, anticipating the three flashes of light from that upper window. But they never came. Even so, it did little to calm his nerves. No news did not necessarily mean there was nothing awry.
How did my life come to this? He loathed the cretins who had taken Helena, more than he could put into words. Before she had been stolen away, the kidnappings had seemed like distant tragedies that would never threaten his own peaceful world. And his future had all been laid out for him, his mind having come to terms with all of that, long ago.
I was to marry Helena and start a family of my own, to replace the one I lost. I was to make good on my promises to my parents, that I would take Helena as my wife and unite our families. I was prepared to do all of that… but now? Victoria had come into his world and turned it upside down. His heart quickened whenever he thought of her, and he found himself constantly looking forward to their next meeting. In truth, he couldn’t think of a single hour when his mind had not turned to her at least once, wondering what she was doing at that exact moment.
She had ruined that peaceful, laid-out plan. And yet, he couldn’t be angry with her for doing so. She had not intended to intrigue him to the point where it had developed into something akin to affection. She had not attempted to entice him, as other ladies had done. She had simply been herself, and intoxicated him regardless, quite without meaning to. No, that fault lay with him.
What will I do when we find Helena, and this mission comes to an end? Could he really relinquish Victoria’s company and go back to those well-laid plans that had been forged by his parents and Helena’s? He supposed he would have to, when the time came. Besides, he was under no illusions that Victoria felt the same confused emotions that he did.
He was a soldier, after all. When duty called, he would answer. Even if it meant a life of never knowing what might have been, if he had only dared to go against promises that had not even been made by him.
Inside Miss Longacre’s bedchamber, time moved with equal sluggishness. Victoria sat straight in the armchair by the fire, watching the flames dance. Fire no longer had the soporific effect that it had once had during her childhood, and she continued to feel alert though the hour had grown very late indeed.
In the bed across the room, Miss Longacre slept soundly. It pleased Victoria, that she could offer the kind of solace that allowed a young lady to sleep without fear. Though the same could not be said for Victoria’s own apprehension over what may come that night.
She glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. It read three o’clock in the morning.
Christian must be frozen to death outside. Quietly, she rose from the armchair and tiptoed over to the window, drawing back the drapes so she could look upon the garden below. Not a creature stirred, and if Christian hid there somewhere, she could not see him.
Nevertheless, she wanted to let him know that all was well. For now, at least. Delving back into her neckline and searching beneath the confines of the half-corset that she hugely resented having to wear, she took out a silver disc—larger than a coin, with no face or markings on either side. Holding it out at an angle, she waited until it caught the moon’s dim glow and tilted the coin back, giving one flash to let Christian know she was fine.
She was just putting the coin away when she heard the sharp whinny of a horse in the near-distance, and the slow, telltale trundle of carriage wheels upon the cobbles.
Her heart jolted. Is it happening? Has the time come?
She ducked away from the window and crouched beneath the sill. If anyone attempted to get into Miss Longacre’s chambers, she would be there to stop them in their tracks. Pressing her chest, she felt for the other object she had stowed away in her corset of wonders.
A knife. True, it didn’t hold the same impact as a pistol might have, but a knife had always proved to be Victoria’s most reliable companion in any dire situation. She didn’t have to worry about the flintlock working, or the shot expelling. A knife did as it was told, every time.
However, she had come somewhat more prepared than that.
Gathering up her skirts to reveal her stockinged leg, she checked to make sure the last hidden item in her possession was still where it ought to be. A pistol, strapped to her thigh. She would only be able to fire once, but she didn’t plan to actually use the weapon—it was merely intended to be a deterrent, to frighten the assailants into submission.
Yes, I think I was mistaken about us ladies wearing trousers instead of dresses. You can hide so much more within a dress than you could ever hope to hide in a pair of trousers. She smiled to herself and covered the pistol back up, leaning back against the wall so she could lie in wait for whomever may be on their way at that precise moment.
What does one flash mean? Christian stared up at the window in bemusement. It was not the same window where the candles still flickered, but he supposed that made sense. Victoria had lit the flames at the nearest window to Miss Longacre’s bedchamber. But… did that mean Victoria had gained entry into Miss Longacre’s chambers?
This was not part of the plan. He shook his head and comforted himself that he’d not seen three flashes. One had to mean all was well, surely?
His head whipped around as the sound of carriage wheels rattled dully nearby, accompanied by the soft whinny of a horse. With his heart in his throat, he sank further back into the darkness of the rounded shrub and kept his gaze upon the farthest end of the garden. At Helena’s home, they had entered from the alley behind the house, using the gate to creep in. He feared they intended to do the same this night.
But that means it cannot be Sir John and Lord Mobberley… As far as he knew, they were still inside the house. Unless they had departed whilst he and Victoria had been setting up their positions. It perplexed him, for he had been so sure they had been on the right path with those two wastrels.
He held his breath as he listened to the still night air. A moment later, he heard the rusty scrape of a bolt being pulled back, deep within the gloom at the end of the garden. His nerves jangled wildly as that sound was followed by the creak of a gate opening, pushed slowly on its weathered hinges.
This is it. This is the moment we capture the kidnappers. Helena, I will see you safely returned to your mother and father. And… no, I will not think on that now. He could not torment himself any longer with his duty and the promises he had made. Even if he had to uphold them, he didn’t want to think about them now, with so much at stake.
A shadow slithered through the blackness, whistling quietly.
You dare to whistle? It sickened Christian, to hear such a frivolous tune, knowing what this wretch intended.
Biding his time, Christian forced himself to wait until the mysterious figure strode past his hiding place and headed up to the house. As Victoria had mentioned before, they couldn’t make any sort of arrest if they only had suspicions and circumstantial evidence to go on. This villain needed to actually enter the house, and attempt to steal Miss Longacre, before they could move to apprehend him.
However, the figure stopped upon the back steps of the house and bent low, depositing something at the door. Christian saw the fellow glance back over his shoulder, as though he suspected he may be being watched. It prompted Christian to sink lower, in case he was spotted.
What are you doing? What game are you playing? Are you leaving a warning? Christian panicked. If he allowed this fellow to leave, then they would miss their opportunity entirely. He looked up at the window where he had seen the silvery flash, and wished Victoria were beside him now. She would know what to do. A soldier had the mindset of acting first, and asking questions later, but he didn’t think that was what an investigator ought to do.
The shadowy man turned and made his way back down the steps, strolling across the dew-soaked lawn in the direction he’d just come. Christian waited until he heard the gate creak before he darted out of his hideaway and sprinted for the back door, praying he could discover what had been left and manage to stop the villain from leaving in his carriage, if he could run fast enough.
However, he skidded to a confused halt as he reached the back step. A wooden box sat there, with two large metal urns of milk inside. It stunned him so much that he wanted to laugh, his hand clamping across his mouth to stop any such sound from escaping.
Whomever that man had been, he had been no villain. It was only the milkman, delivering his rounds.
Chapter 14
Morning rose with Miss Longacre still safely in her bed, and Victoria still keeping her vigil
by the window. The whinny of the horse and the sound of the carriage wheels must have been a false alarm, Victoria realized with some frustration. She had been so sure that the kidnappers would not be able to resist such an opportunity to steal away someone like Miss Longacre.
Unless… She thought of Sir John and Lord Mobberley, and the discussion she had overheard with regards to marriage. Perhaps, they really were the kidnappers, but they had not attempted to take Miss Longacre as they had a vested interest in keeping her where she was. Sir John did, at least.
Then again, if Sir John wanted to sweeten the honeypot, he could always have staged a rescue of Miss Longacre and used those faked heroics to weasel his way into the family favor. In truth, this entire evening had her baffled.
“McCarthy?” Miss Longacre stirred and sat up, pushing hair out of her eyes.
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