Page 46 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

Chapter 11

November 11, 1846, Blaugdone Island, Rhode Island

Hulda’s breath stuck somewhere between her larynx and the back of her tongue, and it took earnest effort to get it moving again.

“I beg your pardon?” She credited herself on the steadiness of her voice.

“Just a few questions.” He glanced to Baptiste, hesitated, then looked at Merritt. “If I may.”

Merritt nodded. Hulda felt his hesitance in his stance, in his aura, but he didn’t show it. To herself, she broiled.Why couldn’t I have foreseenthis?

What was she supposed to do?

Owein trotted out curiously, tail wagging. Merritt put out an open hand, staying him. A soft whimper escaped the dog, but he sat.

“Your name?” Merritt asked. Bless him, Hulda had completely forgotten about exchanging pleasantries.

The stranger nodded, sticking his hat under his arm. “You may call me Dwight Adey. Is there a room you would prefer?”

Hulda managed to assert, “The sitting room,” at the same time Merritt gestured to his right and said, “The living room is fine.”

Mr.Adey smiled like a patient father might. To Hulda, he replied, “The sitting room will do nicely. Again, my apologies on the intrusion,but I will be brief. And, if you’ll excuse the impropriety, I would like to speak to MissLarkin alone.”

While Hulda’s gut loosened, Merritt bristled. He said, “For a stranger, you are asking a lot.”

“I am, I am,” Mr.Adey agreed. “But I assure you, I’ve only a few questions.”

About Silas Hogwood,Hulda filled in, and hoped she didn’t look pale. “Of course,” she replied, ignoring Merritt’s hard gaze.I did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong.Still, she’d have to play this carefully. “I did work for the man. This way.”

She gestured to the stairs. Mr.Adey nodded his thanks and followed.

Both Merritt and Baptiste took the stairs after them, quiet as hounds on the hunt.

Hulda allowed Mr.Adey to step into the sitting room first—which thankfully was still in order—and passed an unsure look to Merritt in the hallway. She left the door slightly ajar. Any proper British woman would do as much, so Mr.Adey shouldn’t comment on it ... and he didn’t. He made himself comfortable on a chair, and knowing Merritt and Baptiste were very likely eavesdropping, Hulda took a seat on the settee, setting a good ten feet between her and the stranger.

She cleared her throat. “Forgive me—this is unexpected. Are you”—she swallowed, trying to keep her calm—“with LIKER?”

“Oh, no.” He set his hat aside, but kept his coat on. “I work for the royal family. I’m a detective.”

Hulda would not have been able to hide her shock at the easy confession even if her auguryhadsent her a clue. “I ... I don’t understand. It’s been some time since I worked for Mr.Hogwood—”

“I sought you out because of the letters you sent the warden of Lancaster Castle.”

Hulda paused for a beat, then let out a careful breath. “Lancaster Castle ... yes. That was”—she mentally counted—“roughly six weeks ago.”

She relaxed a hair. If Mr.Adey was set at Lancaster Castle, then he was behind on the timeline. He might not know anything about Myra or what happened in Marshfield.

He nodded. “Yes, you wrote concerning Mr.Silas’s well-being.” He pulled from his vest pocket a letter, which Hulda swiftly recognized asherletter: the very one she’d sent across the sea.

Just be honest.Hulda steadied herself. “Yes. I ... Well, it may sound strange, but I could have sworn I saw him in Portsmouth. I was involved in his arrest some ten years ago—”

“I am aware,” he said, not unkindly.

“—and it startled me. I’d worried he’d been released.” She swallowed. “The warden told me he’d passed away.”

All true.

“Hmm.” He sounded disappointed as he returned the letter to his pocket. “That is what the warden told me as well. You’ve nothing else to add?”

---