Page 77 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"Not yet," I said. "The boys will go out with Lincoln when he returns." I checked the clock. It was nearing four. If he didn't get home soon, it would be dark and the opportunity gone. "Perhaps we'll have tea while we wait."
"There's no time for tea." Mink looked out the parlor window at the sky. "If we don't go now, we'll miss him. You'll have to wait for tomorrow."
Another day would only drag things out. I bit my lip and looked at the sky. Lincoln would hate me going without him. He'd worry.
But Smithfield wasn't Whitechapel, and the fellow meeting the butcher hadn't harmed Cross or any of the others.
"Doyle, I'm going to a butcher's in Smithfield. The boys will come with me. Will you drive us?"
"Won't the market be closed now, Miss?"
"We're not there to shop. Please ready the carriage. Ask Cook to help if you need it."
"Hang about," Finley said, going pale. "We're going todrivethere?"
I nodded. "Alice—"
"I'm coming with you," she said before I could ask. "You're not going alone."
I smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that. It'll be quite safe. We won't even need to get out." She fetched coats, hats and gloves and we waited for Doyle to bring the coach around.
Cook handed each of the boys a woolen cap. "You'll be needing these now. Mind you put up your collars. You be noticing the wind on your necks more."
The boys put on their caps and pulled up their collars. "Thanks Mr. Cook," Mink said, holding out his hand.
Cook shook it.
Finley was too busy staring at the horses and coach, approaching from around the side of the house, to shake hands. He gulped audibly.
"Are you afraid of horses?" I asked him quietly.
"No. I ain't never been in no coach before."
"You'll be quite safe." I put out my hand, but he didn't take the hint.
Mink, however, did. He crooked his arm and I took it. He led me down the front steps to the coach. I looked back to see Finley catching on and offering his arm to Alice. She smiled sweetly and accepted it. His blush disappeared into his cap.
"Call out when you're ready, miss," Doyle said from the driver's seat.
"Just a moment, I've got an idea. Doyle, please take us to Lord and Lady Gillingham's residence in Mayfair first. I want to ask Lady Gillingham if she'd like to join us."
"Why?" Alice asked once we were settled on the seats, the spare blankets intended for the boys' den piled on our laps.
"Because she needs the adventure, and to do things her husband doesn't want her to do." It was, perhaps, a fool's errand. She'd most likely refuse to come with us, preferring to abide by her husband's wishes. Of course, she may not even be home, or he might be, and then my plan would come to naught. But the devil inside me wanted to try, wanted to encourage Harriet to stand up to her husband in this small way.
Fortunately, Harriet was home but her husband was not. She was allowed to receive callers and go out. "But not with you," she added, greeting me in the entrance hall. "Gilly said if you came here, you weren't to be allowed past the entrance." Hence why I spoke to her on the threshold with the door open.
I eyed the butler. He stood to one side, attempting to be unobtrusive, yet we both knew he would report every word of our conversation to his master. It wasn't going to be easy to convince Harriet. Indeed, how hard did I want to try? She wasn't integral to our plan.
Yet I wanted her to come with us, and I had an idea on how to go about it. "The thing is," I said, "we're going to see someone about a glover who makes special gloves for ladies with large hands. I thought you'd like to come along and see the gloves for yourself."
She looked offended and tucked her hands behind her back. Then it was as if the clouds cleared and she understood the true meaning of my words.Yes, I wanted to tell her.I've found someone like you."You do want to meet him, don't you?" I asked. "There may never be another opportunity."
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes two huge pools. "Very much." She studied her hands then curled them into fists. "I'd like to meet a new glover." She turned to the butler. "Fetch my coat, please, Owen. I'm going out."
"Er…my lady…" The poor butler didn't know what to do. "Perhaps you ought to wait for his lordship to return."
"No. I'm going out, with or without a coat."
