That evening, while Anne’s maid Sarah was getting her ready for the Sunderland ball, Hugh knocked at her door. “You have a visitor, my lady.”
Anne had just finished her preparations, so she hastened downstairs, wondering who could be calling at such a late hour.
She found her visitor in the front parlor. He was a young man, probably around Edward’s age. He was handsome, his blue eyes set off nicely by his bright red coat.
He stood to greet Anne, and that was when she noticed that he had an artificial leg.
Her heart rate ratcheted up a notch.
“Lady Wynters,” he said, bowing over her hand with military precision, “forgive my intrusion. I am Lieutenant Phillip Avery. This afternoon I received a letter from Horse Guards regarding a boy I accompanied back from the Continent. His name was—”
“Nick Palmer,” Anne finished for him as she curtseyed. She laughed at his startled expression, pressing a hand to her heart. “Forgive me, Lieutenant Avery, I just… you cannot imagine how pleased I am to see you.”
She gestured for him to sit on the yellow-striped silk sofa before the fireplace, taking the facing chair for herself.
“I wish I could say I was pleased,” Lieutenant Avery said. “I beg you not to mistake me, I am not displeased with you, and I am grateful beyond measure for what you have done. But…” He squeezed his eyes closed. “Am I to understand that Nick has spent the last four years as a climbing boy?”
“I’m afraid so.”
He rose to pace before the fireplace. “I never would have let him get in that carriage, had I known. I thought he was going to be placed in an apprenticeship—a respectable apprenticeship,” he clarified. “A good trade, where he could—” He broke off with a sound of disgust.
“Of course you did,” Anne hastened to say. “Nick explained how you refused to let him get in the empty carriage. How you insisted upon meeting the man who came to collect him. I am hopeful that you will therefore be able to provide us with the break we need in this case.”
Lieutenant Avery sat. “I will gladly tell you everything I know.”
“How did you arrange for Nick’s apprenticeship?” Anne asked.
“I wrote to the Royal Military Asylum. I know their building is still under construction, but I thought perhaps they might have some sort of program already in place.”
This made sense. Founded by the Duke of York, the Royal Military Asylum’s mission was to provide care for soldiers’ children orphaned by the war with France. “May I ask with whom you corresponded?”
His shoulders slumped. “How I wish I could recall his name. I tore my rooms apart looking for one of his letters, but I must’ve discarded them. I do recall that he was on the board of the R.M.A., and he was lord something or the other.”
“I see.” Anne’s mind was flying. Being well-connected in the charity world, she knew everyone on the board of the R.M.A. “Let’s see, Viscount Scudamore serves as the R.M.A’s treasurer, Baron Gladstone is its secretary, and the Earl of Aylsham its vice president. Do any of those names sound familiar?”
“Aylsham does. He’s a lieutenant colonel in the Royal Marines. It couldn’t have been him. He was fighting with Lord Nelson in Egypt at the time.”
“Not Lord Aylsham, then. That leaves Lord Scudamore and Lord Gladstone.” Anne knew both men, although she knew Lord Scudamore better than Lord Gladstone. Lord Scudamore was more deeply involved in charitable work; in the last year, he had volunteered to organize some small fundraisers for the Ladies’ Society and had expressed an interest in joining its board someday. Anne hated to think it might be him, but given the evidence, she had to acknowledge the possibility.
Lieutenant Avery had been staring at the wall in concentration. He shook his head. “Neither name rings any bells. I’ve never had a good memory for names. But whoever he was, he wrote that, as their facility was still under construction, they were finding individual situations for the children. He asked about Nick’s age and what not and said he could find an apprenticeship for him. Arranged to send his carriage ’round to collect him the following evening.”
Anne leaned forward. This was precisely what Nick had described. “What happened next?”
The lieutenant shook his head. “It was most irregular—the pickup time was at dusk. A carriage arrived, all right, but it was empty. I questioned the coachman, and…” He waved a hand, struggling to explain. “Do you ever get a feeling that something is off?”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
He sank back onto the sofa. “Would that I had gone with my gut. I refused to let Nick get in the carriage that night. I wrote again, explained what an exemplary soldier his father had been, and that I wasn’t going to pack his son away into some empty carriage. I insisted upon meeting this Lord, well, Lord whoever, first. He made a fuss about it, let me tell you. We exchanged three of four notes that day before he finally agreed that he would come to collect Nick personally.”
“And did he?”
The lieutenant frowned. “I… I think so. The same carriage pulled up. I remember the crest—two wild boars.”
“Wild boars,” Anne murmured. That made sense. It was closer to Johnny’s description of two pigs, but Nick had been right about the tusks.
“So the carriage pulled up,” Lieutenant Avery continued, “but the man inside wouldn’t even get out. Just rolled down the window to shake my hand. I was trying to ask him where Nick was going to be placed, he said something about a wheelwright’s apprentice in Sussex, and pulled him inside. I asked where in Sussex, but the carriage was already pulling away.” His shoulders sagged. “I should have followed my instincts. I should never have let Nick go with him.”
“Please, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Anne stood and walked to a corner pedestal, where she poured the lieutenant a brandy. He accepted it with a nod and she resumed her seat. “Whoever took Nick, it appears he has an operation funneling underaged boys into work as climbing boys. Your information will be crucial toward stopping him. Can you tell me what this man looked like?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. It was dusk and, as I said, he refused to get out of the carriage. He had a large hat pulled down low over his face. Ugh.” He clenched one hand into a fist. “It sounds so suspicious in retrospect. Why did I let Nick get into that carriage?”
“At least we now know of an apparent connection with the R.M.A. The Ladies’ Society took in two former climbing boys the other day, and both are army orphans. It cannot be a coincidence. Think, Lieutenant—can you recall anything else about this man?”
“As I said, he reached his hand out through the window,” the lieutenant said slowly, “and he wore a signet ring. It was a gold ring with a dark red stone—garnet, perhaps, or carnelian. It was carved with some sort of crest. I didn’t get a close enough look to see if it was the same as the one on the carriage.” He squeezed his eyes shut a moment. “That’s all I can recall.”
Anne rose. “Thank you so much, Lieutenant Avery. You’ve been tremendously helpful. Would you mind if I put you in contact with my friend, Mr. Samuel Branton? He’s a barrister who can put you in touch with someone at Bow Street.”
The lieutenant agreed, and Anne wrote out Samuel’s direction.
Once he had departed, she set off for the Sunderland ball, with far weightier matters on her mind than an evening of dancing.