Page 52 of Anastasia and the Duke
The man had left in a hurry, by the looks of things. Papers were strewn across his desk and above the fireplace, and the door of what looked to be a safe hung open. Oliver advanced, to investigate further, but then something on the ground caught his eye.
A batteredportmanteau, knocked over so that its contents spilled out, included amongst them the same bonnet that Hannah had worn the day that Oliver had kissed her in the park.
She had been here, he realised, and his stomach clenched with fear. The strewn papers and carelessly discarded bag could mean only one thing; a struggle had occurred between Hannah and Pritchard.
Oliver backed from the room, as his mind raced to try work out where Hannah and Pritchard might now be. Had she angered him? Had he dragged her off somewhere quiet, where he might take out his rage on her without interruption?
Oliver tasted bile, as he imagined Pritchard causing harm to Hannah, but he tried to push the image from his mind. It would do no good for him to sink into despair; he had to think.
Fear hurried his step, as he raced back down the stairs and back out through the pub to the water trough, where the young lad was standing watch over his stallion.
"Did you see Pritchard leave?" Oliver questioned the boy, who blinked nervously in reply.
"Don't know no Mr Pritchard," the lad responded, stubbornly staring down at the ground.
Oliver sighed and reached into his pocket for his coin purse, from which he extracted a half-crown--a fortune around these parts.
"Are you certain you don't know him?" Oliver questioned, holding the coin out so the lad could see what the truth was worth.
"He came running out a half hour ago," the boy replied, at once, his eyes alight with longing for the coin Oliver held, "He had me hail down a hackney for him to take him to G-G-Grosvenor..."
"Grosvenor Square," Oliver finished for him, "Was there a girl with him? A red-haired young woman?"
"Hannah?" the lad asked, and Oliver's heart stilled, before the boy continued, "No, she wasn't with him, but she came running out a while after. She had me hail down another hackney."
"And where was she headed?" Oliver asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Grosvenor Square," the lad did not stutter this time.
"Thank you," Oliver replied, as he distractedly placed the half-crown into the boy's outstretched hand.
Something was terribly amiss, and while Oliver did not quite know what it was, he knew that he would find out at Lady Lansdowne's.
Chapter Fifteen
If Sidney harmed one hair on Lady Lansdowne's head, then Hannah would make certain he suffered.
This thought repeated itself, over and over, as Hannah sat in the musty compartment of the hackney that was delivering her to Grosvenor Square. The carriage bounced and jolted, as it sped through the streets of London, the driver's speed inspired by Hannah's promise of two shillings--taken from the coin purse Lady Lansdowne had gifted her--should he hurry.
After what seemed like an interminable length of time, they finally arrived at Grosvenor Square. Evening had fallen and light shone from the windows of the grand houses which lined the square, but Hannah did not pause to appreciate the beauty of the scene.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Hannah pushed open the door and jumped down from the compartment unassisted.
"My thanks," she called to the driver, who bent down from his perch to receive the fee she proffered.
"I can wait," he said, hopeful for another generous fare, "If you need to be returned?"
"No, thank you," Hannah shook her head; who knew what would happen next. Lady Lansdowne might think her a co-conspirator and she might be hauled off to Newgate before evening's end.
At number thirty-three, Hannah dashed up the steps, and knocked furiously upon the door. If Sidney had taken the servants hostage, there might be no one to answer her knock, she thought, half-mad with anxiety.
Should she kick the door down? Would she be capable? It was a fine door of solid oak, not a flimsy, half-rotten one like in St Giles'.
Her anxiety was so great, that Hannah was just about to begin kicking at the door, when it swung open to reveal old Gareth--whole, healthy, and entirely confused by the fuss.
"Miss Blackmore," he blinked, "I thought you had left us?"
"I had," Hannah answered, before correcting herself, "I mean, I have. I just need to check on Lady Lansdowne, is she alright? Has any harm come to her since I left?"
