Page 7 of The Wallflower Manifesto
Freddy released a sharp breath. “Now,thatI’d like to see.”
“Your tea!” Abe announced, louder than was necessary and a few steps before he rounded the corner.
Freddy’s face was flushed pink, though with embarrassment or exasperation, it was hard to say.
The dowager was completely unabashed and staring at him in expectation as though his serving them was the most natural thing in the world. Though when her eyes fell to the two cups on the tray, she raised her brows.
“Are you not joining us for refreshment, Mr. Murphy?”
Abe hesitated, blinking at her for a moment before remembering what he was about and setting the tray down. “I’m afraid not. I’m open for business downstairs at present.”
“Pity,” she said, lifting her hand as though she expected a good, sturdy shake. “We will have to become acquainted some other time, then.”
Abe did not know whether to kiss her hand or squeeze it, and hesitated so long that she simply dropped it back into her lap with a shrug and a trace of amusement on her face.
“Yes,” he said, finally. “Yes, I would like that. Until then!”
And he trotted out of the room feeling like a particularly large idiot.
He parked himself behind his desk and dug out his sole outstanding case file from last Season, hoping for a distraction while he waited, and praying for a new knock on the door. This case had been brought to him by one of his former colleagues at the Runners, a bounty case for a jewel thief who’d been skimming the high and mighty at fancy ballroom events last spring and summer, though he’d gotten the file so late into the Season that there had scarce been time to begin to look into it.
The payout would be a good one, if he could solve it, but of course it would require said thief to begin his antics again for a second year. A smart thief would have moved onto a new hunting ground by now, and Abe thought anyone this skilled was likely also smart. But of course, depending on who it was, there was also the possibility that leaving the city was impossible.
So maybe there was a chance still. Maybe it was worthwhile to review the file, just in case.
Since no one was knocking down his door, anyhow.
Yet?he thought in a feeble, hopeful little voice.
Truth was, for the last couple of years, most of his income had been through Silas Cain and his rapidly growing law practice. He had established the investigative agency at Cain’s encouragement, and while he had taken on a fair few independent clients in addition to Cain, there had been no question of where his central source of income had sprung.
However, Cain’s firm had been offered something massive and career-defining in these last weeks, and while the particulars were being hashed out, it was becoming more and more evident that Abe needed to ensure his business was sustainable as an independent prospect. Because if Silas was off in the country or else embedded in legal intrigue for the indeterminate future, his livelihood was going to have to come from somewhere else.
Mercifully, for the time being, sharing room and board with Lord Bentley meant a generous allowance from the earl’s lady wife that would stave off destitution for a time, but Abe liked being on equal footing with Freddy. Better, he liked Freddy being in his debt. So falling back on that safety net would not do.
In summary, this jewel thief needed to either be stupid or have a life that would restrict him to London for this year’s thieving.
For Abe’s sake.
The bell on the door alerted him to the dowager’s departure, so when Freddy entered his office, he was able to look a bit more composed than he strictly felt, thumbing through the jewel thief file as though it were no great matter if he solved the case or not. As if it were just one of many, my boy, and all that.
“She is up to something,” Freddy announced with no preamble as he collapsed into one of the chairs opposite Abe, freshly reupholstered, and meant for needy clients, not whiny lords.
“She’s your mother,” Abe said with a shrug. “Mothers are always up to something.”
Freddy shook his head. “I always got the impression that she hated London. She never wanted to come here for the Season when my father was alive.”
“Well, it sounds like you forced her hand, from the little I heard.”
“No, she isn’t here for me. My presence was just a convenient side benefit,” Freddy muttered, flicking a speck of dust from the surface of Abe’s desk. “Something else is going on.”
Abe made a noise as though he were interested, which he wasn’t.
The clock ticked twice. A pair of ladies passed promisingly close to the window but did not stop and knock at the door.
Abe sighed.
“I want you to follow her,” announced Freddy.
