“Oh, hello,” she added as she spotted Sumner. “You’ll find tonight a good one to stay in and read.” She approached him with a friendly smile, decades of working in the family hotel ingrained in her manner.
“I’m here for the Duke of Blackford,” he said in his deep, scratchy voice. He remained motionless, his hat held to the side of his face as if in the act of putting it on, so that Frances couldn’t see his terrible scar.
“The duke is a good man,” Frances replied and then drew me to the side, leaving Emma with Sumner. “I found the most extraordinary thing in the records of Somerset House. Nicholas Drake married Anne Carter four years ago in Northumberland. The records show Anne has an older sister, Edith.”
“Then why does Edith, his sister by marriage, live next door to him? You’d think he’d invite her into his household. Where is Anne? And why all these lies when Edith came to ask for our help?” My mind was swimming with possibilities, each more ludicrous than the last. I felt used by her. She’d deceived me, and that was something I couldn’t abide.
“You need to ask her that and if she knows where Drake is before we continue this investigation.” Frances concentrated on unbuttoning her coat.
I wished she and Sumner would both leave so I could tame my unruly thoughts. They both appeared to be staying for a while, Sumner listening raptly to Emma while Frances continued to unwrap herself after fighting the elements outside.
And then a customer came in, blinking at the brightly lit room after the darkness outside. Emma pulled Sumner aside to the biography section. Frances whispered, “You need to hear the rest of what I’ve learned about Miss Carter and Drake before you go any further with this. I’ll wait until you finish with him,” and settled in the recent novels.
I put on my professional smile and stepped forward to wait on the rabbity-looking man, but my mind was still speculating on what other revelations Frances Atterby brought with her.
*
THE NEXT MORNING, I rode the omnibus into the suburbs where Edith Carter lived. I enjoyed the glare of sunshine reflecting off the streets and buildings. A number of people asked about the yellow ball in the sky, but their jests were met with smiles. A warm, sunny day after a period of rain and fog brought out the best in Londoners.
Children were out playing and mothers pushing prams when I walked from the bus stop to Miss Carter’s house. The plain brick fronts of the rows of houses looked almost pretty in the sunshine, and the tiny front gardens showed the first buds on the plants.
I knocked on the door of Miss Carter’s house, expecting the maid to appear. Instead, Miss Carter herself answered my summons.
When she saw I was alone, she looked crestfallen, but she quickly recovered and said, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for Nicholas Drake.”
“He’s not here. You should be out searching for him. I repeat, why are you here?”
“While checking the public records, we found you’ve not been completely forthcoming with us.”
“I’ve not?” All her bluster fled her and she shrank back from the door.
I took this as an invitation to enter and shut the door behind me. “No. You didn’t tell me you are from Blackford, the village closest to Castle Blackford in Northumberland. That you know the Duke of Blackford on sight. That Nicholas Drake is from that same village. That he married your sister, Anne Carter. That your parents, rather than living with you as you said, still reside in Blackford. And that you live in Canada with your husband, Mr. Norris, so we can’t possibly be having this conversation.”
She spun on her heel and marched into the parlor, leaving the door open. I followed her. She remained standing and didn’t offer me a seat. “I came here following Nicholas, but I didn’t want you to know I was living on my own.”
“I’ll admit it’s unusual, but . . .”
“It’s more than unusual, it’s scandalous, and I’m finished with scandals.” She wrapped her arms around her waist as she turned away from me.
I waited for what came next.
“I love him, but I want the respect due a married woman.”
I kept silent, knowing she had more to say.
She paced quickly around the room, finally coming to rest behind a chair where she glared at me. “Don’t look at me with that judgmental scowl.”
“You said you were finished with scandals.”
“I am.” Her shoulders slumped. “Or I was until I moved down here, and Nicholas refused to admit to anyone that he had a wife. It was his idea that I live next door.”
“Because he couldn’t play the descendant of French royalty, the single gentleman, if he had a wife from Northumberland who wanted to live an honest life.”
“You learned about my time in prison for theft?”
I nodded.
“Thank you for not throwing it in my face.”
“I suspect you confessed to save Drake.”
“Yes. How foolish could I be? But he promised to be waiting for me to start life over again where we weren’t known.”
“This wasn’t what you had in mind. Why use your sister’s name, Anne?”
“Edith doesn’t have a police record.”
“Does Mr. Drake?”
“No. Not really. Not much of one. I saw to that.”
“Where is Drake now?”
“I don’t know.”
I was tired of playing games. I raised my voice. If Nicholas Drake was in the house and had any feelings for his wife, he’d appear. “Don’t give me that. He’s your husband. You know where he is.”
“No.”
Louder. “You’ve always known where he was. Even when you were in prison.”
She yelled back at me. “No. That’s why I came to you. To the Archivist Society. I want him returned to me alive and well.”
“I don’t believe you. You know where he is.” I was shouting now.
“No, I don’t. If I did, I would go there myself and get him.” With the tears running down her cheeks and a fiery gleam in her eyes, she showed every sign of being ready to cross hell to bring him home.
I lowered my voice. “I believe you would. So believe me when I say we will find him, just as we found out your secrets.”
Her plain face became beautiful as she smiled. “Thank you.”
“Tell me what really happened the night you said Nicholas Drake was abducted.”
“Sit down. Please.”
We sat across from each other in front of an unlit fire on matching balloon chairs with red brocade seats. Anne Drake, or Edith Carter as I kept thinking of her, studied her hands for a moment. “Nicholas said he’d stay at his house that night because he’d be returning late from dinner with a lord and didn’t want to disturb me.”
“What lord?”
“I don’t know. I don’t sleep well when he’s not here, and when I heard the carriage outside, I thought he was returning. By the time I rose and looked out the window, I only saw one man leave the open carriage door. That man was definitely not Nicholas. The driver stayed up in his box.”
She rose and began to pace again. “I wondered if I should go down and ask what was going on, but Nicholas was always very strict about my staying out of his business arrangements. So I waited. After five minutes or so, two men came out carrying a third. I’m certain the third man was Nicholas.”