Page 88 of My Kind of Scoundel
“Anna is competent enough to deal with the orders.”
Eleanor stepped back off the pavement and glanced at the upper windows. She could have sworn she saw a curtain twitch.
Moments later, Mr Franklin appeared at the door, a shadow of stubble darkening his jaw, his crumpled shirt untucked from his trousers. “Miss Darrow.” Her name left his lips with a gasp of surprise as he attempted to smooth his unkempt hair. “Thank heavens you’re well.”
“Is something wrong, sir?”
He looked dreadful. Like he had not slept in weeks.
“Did you not hear the terrible commotion last night? We caught two men breaking into the shop—foreign men, French, I think.” He stepped aside to show the floor littered with candlesticks and cutlery and serving platters, the doors on the cabinets smashed, the glass a spiderweb of cracks.
“Good Lord.” Eleanor knew how it felt to see one’s work tossed aside like yesterday’s rubbish. “Did they steal anything?”
Mr Franklin hung his head. “Enough to fill a sack. The fiends had the gall to leave by the front door.”
“Speak to Gibbs,” Theo said. “He may have witnessed them fleeing and can provide a description.”
Mr Franklin nodded as though grateful for the advice, but then he put his hand to his eyes and sobbed.
Eleanor stepped forward and touched his upper arm. “It feels like a punch to the gut when someone treats your work with disrespect. But it will pass.” That said, Mr Franklin didn’t have a knight in shining armour fighting to make his troubles disappear.
“It’s not that,” he sniffed, almost embarrassed to look at her. “It’s Anna. She heard a noise and was first downstairs. She must have presumed I was working late and had knocked something over.”
Eleanor shrank back, clasping her hand to her chest. “Did they hurt her? Please tell me she is well.” Despite Miss Franklin’s questionable friendship with Lady Lucille, Eleanor wouldn’t want her to suffer.
Mr Franklin opened his mouth to speak but choked on the words.
“Is Miss Franklin here?” Theo said, equally concerned.
The silversmith nodded. “One devil hit her with a silver candlestick before making his escape. The doctor said it’s likely a concussion, but the next few hours are crucial to her recovery.” His voice broke, but he added, “I’m waiting for a constable to return to take a statement.”
Having hurt her head recently, Eleanor offered a few encouraging words. “It’s best not to rush these things. I slept for three days after I fell down the stairs. Other than the odd headache, I’m fine now.”
“Yes, Anna said you’d taken a tumble.” He muttered to himself before changing the subject. “Was there something you wanted?”
The question jogged Eleanor’s memory. “Yes, I visited your cousin’s emporium in Finch Lane. She asked me to deliver a book for Anna.” She handed him the parcel, though the paper was torn where she had whacked the lout in the yard of the Saracen’s Head.
Mr Franklin accepted the book. “I’ll leave it by her bedside.”
“If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask.” She feared what he might suggest but had to be polite.
The man’s eyes brightened. “Once the constable has been, you’re welcome to sit with Anna. You might try to wake her from this worrying stupor.”
Eleanor forced a smile. “I shall visit tomorrow. Give her a little more time to rest. Mr Chance can help tidy the shop if you require assistance.”
Mr Franklin was quick to refuse the offer. “I’ll have it cleared by tonight. I’m not one to sit idly by when there’s work to be done.”
They spoke for another minute before parting ways.
“How awful,” she said to Theo as they crossed the street. “Poor Anna. Perhaps we should speak to Mr Gibbs. He may have seen something.”
Theo agreed. “Until the police have caught these villains, it’s not safe for you here. I find it odd that they’re still targeting the area. Thieves rarely hit the same street twice.”
“It wasn’t thieves who targeted my shop but someone known to me.” Someone with a secret to keep. “Maybe Mr Franklin has enemies. Maybe the apothecary prescribed the wrong medicine, and someone sought vengeance.”
Mr Gibbs had seen nothing untoward. “That’s odd. I barely slept and would have heard a commotion. On another matter, Emily came to the shop last night, wanting to speak to you, Miss Darrow.”
“Oh?” If Eleanor had any hope of understanding the past, she needed to speak to Emily, too, but she couldn’t think about that now. “If she calls again, tell her I will be in touch soon.”
