Page 39 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
His presence hadn’t made her feel any safer, only that his time standing guard in their less than busy shop had bored him to tears.
“I’ll look into it if you approve.”
“I do.” If it put Mr. Gibson’s mind at ease, it would be worth the expense.
She suspected Drake would uncover and thwart this plot in short order, judging by how bumbling the main participants seemed to be.
“Very good.” Mr. Gibson breathed a little easier.
“Constable Walker is to see me home, so I’ll leave now if you don’t mind. I can put him out of his misery and let the poor man go on his way.” She smiled and Mr. Gibson turned a withering look toward the young constable.
“I shall be seeking a guard who doesn’t nod off, I assure you.”
“I know you will. Good night.”
“And to you, Miss Prince.”
“I live close by, Constable, so I usually walk if that suits you.”
“Of course, miss.” The young uniformed officer scrambled to his feet when she approached.
Once they’d set off, Allie felt the pointlessness of putting the young man to such trouble.
“What did Inspector Drake say to you about why you were sent to my shop?”
“That I should stand watch and see you home.”
“But did he tell you why?”
The young man looked at her oddly. “The inspector needn’t explain any more than he needs to and rarely does. Tight-lipped is that one.” As soon as that judgement was out, he cleared his throat and set his jaw in an attempt to strike the same unaffected mien Drake sometimes wore. Perhaps policemen practiced it.
“Is he good at what he does?” Allie side-eyed the young man as they walked.
He chuckled at her question. “I’ve never seen anyone better. Some say he’s fearless, relentless when he’s on a lead. And they say Duke’s never failed to solve a case.”
“Goodness, that is impressive.” She swallowed hard at the thought of Drake’s relentlessness. “But why did you call him Duke?”
Constable Walker shrugged. “A nickname. That’s all I know.” He shot her a sheepish look. “I’ve onlybeen a constable for half a year, miss. I’ve a lot to learn.”
“Then I’m sure you will.”
When they reached her family home in Manchester Square, the constable insisted on waiting until she was safely inside, despite her hope she could part from him near the corner.
Once inside, their housemaid, Lottie, greeted her eagerly, her eyes alight with curiosity.“Good evening, miss.”
“Evening, Lottie.” Allie allowed the girl to help her with her coat and gloves. “Before you ask, no, I’m not courting a constable. May I count on you not to tell the rest of the household about my escort tonight?”
Their housekeeper, Mrs. Taunton, had seen a great deal over her decades as manager of the Prince household, but they’d rarely had a policeman at their front door. And their elderly butler, Conroy, loathed any kind of disruption to their usual routine.
“Of course, miss, but...” She drew closer, Allie’s coat still clutched in her arms. “You’re not in any sort of trouble, are you, Miss Prince?”
Allie had come to adore Lottie, but the girl loved nothing as much as gossip.
“Not a single bit of trouble. I promise.” In her head, she debated whether preoccupation with an imposing, relentless detective counted, but of course, he was determined to keep heroutof trouble. “I do think I’ll take supper in my room. Could you send up a tray?”
Once Lottie had gone, Allie headed up to her room and paced the floor in front of the unlit fireplace. Normally, she’d be eager to remove her day dress and slip into something cozy, but she didn’t tonight. She felt unsettled, full of a strange compelling energy. As if there was something she needed to do, though none of her usual evening activities held any appeal.
Tonight, all her thoughts were on Southwark—on Benedict Drake—and she had the wild impulse to go there herself.
