Page 70 of Grave Expectations
Miss Redding snorted. "Is this a joke?"
"Why would it be?"
"Because the high and mighty Lady Harcourt wouldn't even look at either Merry or me if she passed us in the street, let alone speak with us. She certainly wouldn't offer shelter."
"Of course she would," Seth protested, quite sincerely.
I agreed with Miss Redding. Lady Harcourt had been desperate enough to become a dancer to stave off poverty, and she must be desperate now to save her reputation and keep her scandalous background a secret. If her society friends found out, her life in London would be over. She would have to move out of the city to avoid the stigma. The darling of London's social scene wouldn't want that.
"No, sir, she would not offer us a single thing." Miss Redding pulled her hands free of mine and crossed her arms. Her shyness had completely vanished, replaced by the cold steel I'd glimpsed on our first meeting. "Julia Templeton is a manipulative, ruthless cat who'll do anything to hold onto the position she gained through her marriage. Acknowledging those of us who knew her when she danced at The Al would mean admitting to that past. You must understand, a woman like her doesn't even want to remind herself. So I'm afraid I don't believe she ever said such a thing to you and I'm baffled as to why you would mention her at all."
"I can assure you, Lady Harcourt did offer to help Mrs. Drinkwater." Just not offer to shelter her, but to assist in my kidnapping. "There must be a reason," I said, for Seth's benefit.
His face brightened. He stood straighter, taller. "Someone wrote Lady Harcourt a letter, threatening to go to the weeklies with details about her past. Was that you, by any chance?"
"No!" Miss Redding pulled a face. "I would never do such a thing."
"Thank you." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "You've been a marvelous help. Come on, Charlie. It's time to go."
He took my hand and pulled me out of the kitchen, barely giving me enough time to toss out a "Thank you," and "Goodbye, " to the very flushed Miss Redding. She looked quite stunned, but I wasn't sure if that was due to our sudden departure or Seth's kiss.
We raced past Mr. Golightly's office so quickly that he didn't even see us, up the steps and out to the promenade.
"Slow down," I said as I stumbled.
He stopped to allow me to regain my balance. "Sheblackmailedher," he said. "Merry Drinkwater blackmailed Julia into telling her everything about you, and about Lichfield needing a housekeeperet cetera."
"I suppose." I shook my head. "But she would have had to know about my necromancy in the first place—and Lady Harcourt's connection to me. How? Who told her?"
"I don't know. We'll ask Merry Drinkwater."
"How can we do that if we can't find her?"
"I think Miss Redding does know where her friend is, but won't say. We'll follow her home at the end of the day. It's likely we'll find Merry there."
He opened the door for me, almost knocking over a woman who was about to enter The Al. She looked up and gasped.
"Mrs. Drinkwater!" I went to grab her hand but she ran off.
Seth ran after her. "Gus! Stop her!"
But Gus must have been half asleep. He tilted his hat back as he sat up from his slumped position on the coachman's seat. "What?" He saw the woman run past and Seth follow. "Blimey!" He too jumped down. "Charlie, watch the horse."
"I'm not sure it requires both of you," I called after them.
But he didn't listen to me. He followed after Seth who'd slowed down when several gentlemen eyed him with suspicion. The horse stood quietly, but I reached for the bridle anyway.
A gloved hand caught mine and something pressed into my back.
"Do as I say. I have a gun." Holloway! Oh God. He wasn't dead then.
Pity. "What do you want?" I kept my voice low, level, so as not to startle him. If I moved suddenly, he might fire.
"I want to save you, my girl."
"I'm not your girl, and I don't need saving."
"Of course you do. Look at you, cavorting with men." He spat out the words as if they tasted vile. Despite the strength of his conviction, he was suffering from illness. His grip felt weaker and his hand shook. I could feel the heat of his fever through our clothing, and his breath stank. "The devil is in you,Whore."
