The duke’s voice came over my shoulder. “Lady Westover, I enjoyed dinner immensely. It’s always good to see my mother’s close friends. Please invite me anytime you have your charming family members visit.”
I turned and caught his eye. After he nodded to me, he gave me a searching look. He knew our story was a lie. At least he didn’t give me away.
We struggled to keep up a conversation for the rest of the half hour society dictated we should enjoy our coffee after the meal. I found myself between Lord Hancock and Lord Naylard while trying to think of something that would lead the conversation toward Drake and his disappearance. All I came up with was, “I’d love to tour your laboratory sometime, Lord Hancock. Your work on behalf of our soldiers sounds interesting.”
“I don’t give tours of my laboratory. It’s not a museum,” he said, glaring at me. At least he showed no sign of recognizing me from the meeting in Sir Broderick’s study.
“He won’t show his lab to potential investors,” Lord Naylard said.
“Of course not. Creating chemical compounds requires careful measurements and undivided attention. I consider that room to be mine alone. I never let anyone in my laboratory. Not Daisy. Not the servants. Not visitors.”
Daisy joined us and said, “After my parents died, I spent a lot of time trying to get into the laboratory. A challenge, I suppose. He keeps the keys to the doors on a chain on his waistcoat pocket, and all the windows have bars over them. I never found a way in.”
I heard her stress the word “I.” “Never?”
She shook her head.
“Never. I never let anyone in.” Hancock caught Daisy’s eye and she looked down quickly. “We must be going. Thank you, Lady Westover,” Lord Hancock said as he took his niece’s arm. The Naylards and the duke also said good-bye.
Lady Westover and I went to the entry hall to see the visitors off. Once the door was shut behind them, Lady Westover said, “Was the evening successful?”
“Yes, even though I ended the night with more questions than answers. Do you remember anything unusual about the Duke of Merville or his family ten or so years ago?”
“Merville? Nothing comes to mind. They’ve always been a bit dry and ordinary. Especially for a duke’s family.”
“And I thought you weren’t in touch with Hancock. That was clever of you to invite them.”
“I’m not. I loved her mother, but I’ve never cared for Daisy or the current Lord Hancock. I suppose I should have tried harder.” Lady Westover grimaced. “At least they accepted my invitation for tonight.”
“Tonight was very helpful. And enjoyable.” I squeezed her hand.
“Shall I see you soon?”
“I hope so. I always enjoy my time spent with you. Especially when the man sitting next to me at dinner didn’t give away my true identity.”
Lady Westover stopped, one foot on the step. “Good. I’m aware Blackford knows you from the Archivist Society, but your place at table couldn’t be helped, my dear. You had to sit next to him because of the order of precedence. Silly square table.”
“I’ll check to make certain your guests have left and then I’ll go.”
“Good night, child.”
There were no carriages in view from the dining room window. I took my cloak and hat from the ancient butler and slipped out the front door. The street was still and empty, but I could hear the clop of horse hooves not far away. I’d catch a hansom cab on the main road.
Before I reached the corner, I had to pass the alley leading to the mews behind Lady Westover’s house. I heard a scrape before I saw two men move out of the shadows. They grabbed for me. Dressed in evening wear and outnumbered two to one, I could do little more than strike at them and scream.
They tried to pull me into the alley, but a hard stomp on a foot and a bite on a hand let me escape to dash toward the street, holding up the fabric of my ripped skirt. A carriage pulled up, the horses reined in before I collided with them. The Duke of Blackford jumped out. My savior, or reinforcements for my attackers?
I started to dash down the sidewalk, but strong arms grabbed me around the middle, wrapping my cloak tightly around me. I kicked out and hit my pursuer by driving the back of my head into his nose. He let go and I ran. Behind me, I heard grunts and thuds, wood against metal, wood against bone.
I glanced back to see the duke thrash one figure with his cane. As my other attacker rose from the ground, he was pummeled down again. I’d have to pass the fight to return to the safety of Lady Westover’s. Too dangerous. I rushed away from the fracas.
Horses whinnied and coach wheels creaked, but no footsteps pursued me. I slowed my pace to a brisk walk, staying as far from the street as I could as I approached the corner. Looking over my shoulder, I saw two figures prone on the ground behind me and a large carriage with four horses nearly at my side.
“Miss Fenchurch.”
I picked up speed. So did the horses, pulling past me.
The duke’s familiar baritone came from the coach. “Wait, Miss Fenchurch. I’m trying to rescue you.”
“I don’t appear to need rescuing.” I held up my skirt to step over a gap in the sidewalk, planning to hurry away from both my attackers and the duke’s coach. Despite the duke’s dispatch of the two thugs, I feared he was involved in the attack. His appearance was too fortuitous.
“Very well, then.” The Duke of Blackford tapped on the roof of his high, ancient carriage and it began to pull away from me.
I looked back at the figures who were on their feet and limping in my direction. “Wait,” I called after the coach.
Immediately the horses were reined in again.
I rushed to the side of the carriage as the two men started in my direction. “Could you drive me to a safer location?”
“Of course.” The door bearing the ducal crest opened and I was faced with a daunting set of narrow steps lowered to allow me to climb the great height to enter the coach.
“My goodness. How do you climb in and out of this vehicle?”
“By using the steps. Of course, I wear trousers and am taller than you. I have it, John,” he called to his footman, who had made a move to climb down and assist me.
Shaking my head at his literalness, I bunched up my skirts so I could reach one foot up to the bottom step. With satin fabric in one hand and the other gripping the handrail, I hauled myself upward.
When I reached the third step, the duke grabbed me by the waist. Since I was looking over my shoulder to see where my attackers were, I was startled to feel his hands inside my cloak and the smooth wool of his coat sleeves on my bare arms. My evening shoe slipped and my hand slid on the grip. The duke pulled me upward, off balance, into his carriage.
He barked a command and the carriage sprang into motion. I tumbled onto one of the seats. The duke had to grab a strap hanging from the carriage roof to keep from landing in my lap. Once he regained his balance, he pulled up the steps with one motion and shut the door. I tugged my ripped skirt around me modestly and looked out the window. My attackers were no longer in sight.
The duke sat down across from me and crossed his legs. “Do you have a lot of enemies, Miss Fenchurch?”
I doubted those men could have been hired by my parents’ killer. He wouldn’t know I’d seen him lately. I rose slightly to adjust my cloak and settled onto the leather seat. It was as hard as a board. “No. This rarely happens unless I’m disguised as a harlot.”
His eyes widened.
My comment wasn’t true; I didn’t dress like a harlot. But any man with the effrontery to ask if a lady is a virgin shouldn’t be shocked by what she tells him. I gave him a hard look. “So which member of your club has kidnapped Nicholas Drake and wants to stop me from finding him?”