“Better us than a real aristocrat.” I heard the grim tone in my voice.
“So, if someone will be after us for us and not for the jewels, who are we supposed to be? Surely not the staff of a bookshop or members of the Archivist Society.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “We’ll have to ask him tonight when we reach Lady Westover’s. While we walk around unarmed and wearing jewels, he’ll be armed to the teeth. He’s appearing as a highwayman.”
Emma nodded. “Appropriate.”
The shop bell rang, and from that moment we were both kept busy with customers until closing. I locked up the proceeds for the day while Emma straightened the shop and then stood waiting by the front door. I’d nearly reached her when she said, “Forgetting something?”
I’d pulled out copies of the newest novels that came in that day for Phyllida and left them in the office. She’d never forgive me if I left them behind, considering she thought of them as her special perk for living with two booksellers. “Thank you. Go on without me. Tell Phyllida I’ll be right behind you, but don’t tell her what I forgot.”
Emma nodded and left the shop. I went back into the office and hurriedly grabbed up the thin volumes of popular fiction featuring damsels in distress and brave heroes. Too hurriedly. I knocked a stack of papers on the floor. I piled them back on the desk, promising myself to organize them tomorrow.
Turning off the electric lights, I looked around the dim shop for a moment with a sigh of contentment. We’d made a little money, there’d been no disasters, and we may have made some progress on the Archivist Society investigation. Another successful day.
I stepped out of the shop, locked the door, and headed for the flat. The night was turning foggy, but it was still early enough to use our shortcut. I had just turned the corner and taken a few steps into the alley when a hand reached out and grabbed me.
I screamed and swung my umbrella. In a lucky stroke, I stabbed my attacker in the leg. With a roar, he struck with his fist, knocking me over. My ears rang and my hands stung from hitting the rough, filthy paving stones. He kicked me in the corset. I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Where’s Drake?”
I doubled up, gasping.
He grabbed me by the hair. “Where’s Drake?”
I tried to scream, but only whimpered.
“Hey! You!”
The grip on my hair loosened and I slumped to the ground as footsteps pounded down the alley.
“Miss. Are you all right?”
Hands lifted me up to a standing position and I found myself facing two young clerks. My hair was falling around my ears and my hat was trampled in the damp dirt of the alley, which also coated my clothes. The two men picked up my hat and the now-wrinkled books and handed them to me.
“Thank you.” I burst into tears, ruining what little dignity was left to me.
When the clerks helped me to the flat, Emma and Phyllida thanked them profusely and Phyllida gave them the apple pastry that she had made for our dessert. Despite my protests, I was undressed and ordered into a tub of hot water.
It didn’t take long for me to recover. My corset was tough enough to withstand any thug’s boot and he’d only struck glancing blows. Getting dressed again was another issue. Phyllida didn’t want us to go to Lady Westover’s, since my attacker was still out there.
Emma slipped her knife out. “Either we’ll be fine, or he won’t be. Besides, I want to try on those jewels.”
Phyllida threw her hands in the air and went to dish up dinner while Emma helped me dress. I was glad we weren’t trying on our ball gowns that night, since I didn’t want the stays on my corset pulled too tightly against my ribs and a bruise was forming under my left eye.
After a hasty dinner, complete with suggestions from Phyllida to keep our noses in the air if we wanted to look authentic in our jewels, we were ready to find out what awaited us at Lady Westover’s.
The wind from the day before had died down and now fog muffled every street, alley, and path in London. While we heard occasional hoofbeats, no hansom cabs passed us, so we were forced to walk. We found our way to Lady Westover’s in the dark by moving from one familiar landmark to another, one lamppost to the next. All the while, the footsteps I heard trailing us sent icy fingers skittering down my spine.
Emma slipped her knife out and showed it to me, but I still felt threatened. When we found an omnibus stop, we caught the next one and rode part of the way. As much as I wanted to, I hadn’t caught a glimpse of Sumner, the man the Duke of Blackford had hired to guard me if I went out at night. After we left the omnibus near Lady Westover’s home, I heard the footsteps again. Although I wanted to believe I heard Sumner following us, I was relieved to climb the steps to Westover House.
The butler opened the door and let us in along with a wisp of fog. As he took our wraps, he said, “Her ladyship is in the parlor. You’re to go right up.”
Lady Westover sat across from the Duke of Blackford, open jewel cases spread out on a table between them. Emma walked forward, staring at the sparkling riches for her to examine. My own stare was focused on a dim corner of the room where Sumner stood guard.
My heart thudded into my stomach. Sumner was here guarding the duke and the jewels. His couldn’t have been the footsteps I’d heard behind us. I’d had no protection during or after my encounter with the ruffian. “If you’re in here . . . ,” I began and clenched my hands together as I shut my eyes.
The duke sprang from the sofa before I opened them. “You were followed. Good God, Georgia, what happened to you?”
I pointed to my bruised cheekbone. “This happened when I left the shop tonight. I heard footsteps coming here, but I didn’t see anyone. Too foggy.”
The duke nodded to Sumner, who left the room. “Could it have been someone headed in the same direction?”
I remembered my last trip to Sir Broderick’s. “How long has it been since Sumner stopped guarding us in the evening?”
The duke scowled. “I had him stop almost immediately. You never went out at night, so I decided there was no reason for concern.”
I felt a cold breath on my neck at the thought of someone out there following us. And when I was alone, someone had struck. It made me wish I carried a weighted walking stick like the duke’s or a knife like Emma’s. “This is the second time it’s happened. We were followed from here to Sir Broderick’s three days ago.”
The duke muttered a foul curse, looked around in embarrassment, and picked up a tiara. With a false note of heartiness in his voice, he said, “Now, ladies, time to start becoming accustomed to wearing jewels and tiaras.”
I caught the duke’s gaze and held it. Whoever had set those two ruffians on me after Lady Westover’s dinner party had sent someone three more times. Two of those times, he’d not attacked. Was it because I wasn’t alone? I couldn’t spend my life with someone next to me every time I went out to keep me safe. I had to find this thug, and the person who’d hired him, and stop this horror.
The duke shook his head slightly as he returned my gaze and then handed Lady Westover a tiara. While Lady Westover adjusted Emma’s tiara, the duke set mine on my head with the solemnity of an archbishop crowning a queen.
While he stood there admiring his jewelry, I said, “Why are you going to all this trouble to help us, Your Grace?”
“I want Drake to hand over the letters he’s stolen. Surely the Archivist Society doesn’t mind assistance.”
“Not at all.”
“Good. Start walking,” he commanded.
Emma took to her diamond and sapphire tiara immediately, her bearing becoming more regal by the moment. I, on the other hand, held my head stiffly while keeping my eyes focused upward as if I could see the diamond and ruby confection resting atop my red-tinged locks.