Page 94 of Lady Edith and the Registry Office
The girl nodded. “St. Mary the Virgin Church, Mortlake. Mrs. Stafford had been the parish secretary.”
And with those words, Edith knew what she had to do next.
* * * * *
Nathaniel walked alongBerkeley Square and turned onto Basil Street. As he walked, he felt his pulse slow, and his shoulders relax. Although he was disappointed that the only interest Lady Edith had in him was to observe his moods, he was no longer angry with her, Alicia, or the rest of his friends.
The task at hand deserved his full attention. Their Mrs. Stafford was an imposter. Diana and Cecil had investigated her before she was offered the job at the registry, which led him to believe that at least some of the information she had provided Diana might just be true.
If the woman was indeed a war widow, she could be connected to the tragedy of the HMSSt. George. A connection to Lt. Cooper, no matter how tenuous, was another avenue to explore.
Perhaps she had used a false identity for some time. Nathaniel would look into any references she’d provided.
He’d walked several blocks and was now in the borough of Mortlake.A carriage rolled by, the driver on the box wearing black and red livery. Nathaniel spotted a hackney carriage and raised a hand.
“My lord?” The driver doffed his tall black hat.
“Follow that coach just there, but not too closely. If it stops, continue driving several yards.”
“Yes, my lord.”
It was late afternoon, and the sky had darkened with clouds. Hopefully the rain would hold off until Nathaniel reached his destination, wherever it might be.
They passed through Mortlake, an area he wasn’t too familiar with. Through the window of his conveyance, he watched the black carriage pull into a churchyard. The hackney came to a halt a moment later.
Nathaniel tossed the driver a guinea when he exited the coach. “Do you know who Lord Wycliffe is?”
The man whistled. “Who doesn’t, my lord?”
“If you fetch him, there’s a gold crown in it for you.” He held up the coin for the man to see.
“Say no more, my lord.”
Nathaniel turned to walk to the churchyard as the coach rumbled away. He planned to only get close enough to the black carriage to observe what he could from a safe distance and wait for Cecil’s help.
There was nobody in or near the carriage. As he turned to walk back the way he came, he heard a muffled shout and then another.
“Help! Help!”
The shouting was coming from somewhere in the churchyard. The sky darkened further, and the heavens opened. Nathaniel walked toward the muted calls for aid, a hand over his eyes to stave off the rain. The downpour became so heavy that it was difficult to determine where the calls for help had come from. An enormous stone mausoleum loomed before him; he couldn’t hear anything except the rain. He stepped through the open iron gate leading to the mausoleum, and something hit him from behind.
Nathaniel fell forward, blackness overtaking him.
