Page 22 of Taken to the Grave
“Miss Bertram, I believe?” Hugh said as he approached her. She went rigid with caution as she glimpsed him over. In any other place, it would have been unforgivably rude for a gentleman to approach and speak to a lady he didn’t know, but at Gunter’s, the rules were a bit looser. Men and women could meet here, unchaperoned, though in full view of society at all times.
“Yes?” she replied with appropriate wariness.
“Your friend is waiting for you. This way,” he said, and then turned to lead her to the corner of the shop. From this perspective, Gwendolyn would not have a view of Audrey’s face. So, it wasn’t until she came to stand next to the table that shesaw her, and with a flare of her eyes, put the pieces of the ruse together.
“This was a trick,” she gasped.
“Please, Miss Bertram, do sit,” Audrey said, but then, when the young woman continued to huff, added, “Causing a scene won’t do if you don’t want this getting back to your mother.”
Hugh applauded her for the arm-twisting tactic. It worked. Gwendolyn Bertram sat in the chair that Hugh pulled out for her, her back straight and her reticule clutched in her lap.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“The truth,” Audrey replied.
Hugh re-took his own seat as Gwendolyn eyed him suspiciously. “And who are you?”
“Lord Neatham,” he replied, and as expected, recognition spread over her tight expression.
“Oh.” Her shoulders and spine stiffened again. “You were a Bow Street officer.”
“I was. And we would like to ask you some more questions about Miss Bethany Silas’s whereabouts.”
Gwendolyn started to say something quick in return, but Audrey cut in. “We know she didn’t elope with Mr. Comstock.”
Hugh looked to Audrey, who had been stalwart in her belief that Bethany had not gone to Gretna Green, as Comstock’s letter to Mr. Silas stated. He’d once told her to follow her instincts, and she was doing just that.
When Gwendolyn sealed her lips and raised her chin without making any argument, Hugh bit back a grin. Apparently, Audrey had been correct.
“What is thesanctuary?” she continued.
A sharp breath shuttled down Gwendolyn’s throat as she gasped, and her coloring, flushed from being cornered, paled. She looked over her shoulder, toward the door.
“You shouldn’t speak so loudly,” she hissed.
“Who do you worry will overhear?” Hugh asked.
The patrons here were all upper class, mostly belonging to the peerage and landed gentry. Though most were having their orders delivered to their carriages or to the square, a handful occupied the tables inside.
“You aren’t supposed to speak of it,” she said in a raspy whisper.
“Of the sanctuary?” Audrey asked, and when the young woman winced as if in pain, decided to spare the girl and lower her voice. “Why not?”
Gwendolyn squirmed in her chair, and Hugh could see she was trying to formulate a way out of this undesirable situation. The only remedy for that was to keep the pressure consistent.
“Tell us,” he said. “Miss Silas’s mother is concerned for her daughter’s welfare, and by the way you are acting, so are you.”
The door to Gunter’s opened, the bell chiming. Gwendolyn snapped a look over her shoulder, but only a waiter entered, transporting a tray of empty crystal bowls and dishes. With a small slump of relief, she closed her eyes a moment before saying, “It is the name of a society. I don’t know much about it, I promise. Just that its members are all very prestigious.”
Hugh sat back in his chair. London’s upper crust had all manner of societies to which one could belong. Most had a common focus. Art, music, literature, science. At White’s, Hugh had been extended a few invitations. He’d never taken up any of the offers. There were also secret clubs, those that delved into darker and more dangerous territory, like the occult. Of those, he’d only heard whispers. Never an invitation, not with his Bow Street background. He wondered what sort of society the Sanctuary was.
“And Bethany learned of this society through Mr. Comstock?” he asked.
She pressed her lips thin and nodded.
“That is where Bethany has gone?” Audrey asked.
A waiter came to the table then to take Gwendolyn’s order, preventing her from answering. She sent him away with a shake of her head.
