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In short order, Beatrice and Daniel were riding in his barouche toward Hyde Park with Sally accompanying them.
“Would you care to share what’s on your mind?” he asked after they’d driven for a time.
“What makes you ask that?” She thought she’d hidden her feelings. How alarming to realize she hadn’t.
“Your brow puckers when something is bothering you.”
She immediately pressed a gloved finger to her brow to smooth it.
“Too late. I already noted it.” The teasing glint lingered in his golden eyes, causing her breath to catch. “Now you must confess.”
Beatrice smiled despite herself. “Caroline suggested I attend a dinner party with her and the earl.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wondering why on earth she told him that as she’d have to tell him the reason behind her worry.
“And?” he prompted.
To her surprise, she found herself telling him her concerns. At least the part where she felt as if others would take one look at her and know she didn’t belong.
“But you do belong.” Now he was the one who frowned. “Your mother was the daughter of a baron. No doubt she attended dinner parties and balls and other social events before she married your father.”
“If she did, she never spoke of it.”
“Would that have been because she didn’t want to upset your father or make him think she missed that world?”
She blinked at the question, never having considered it. “I suppose that might be true.”
“Or perhaps she preferred her new life in your village, helping the community.”
“I believe she did enjoy her time with Father and liked to think their work made a difference.”
“Don’t you think she’d be pleased to know you are enjoying some of the same activities she did before her marriage?”
“I suppose. Although she always encouraged me to place the needs of others above my own.”
“All the more reason you will prove delightfully unique to those you meet. The people of the ton tend to focus on themselves and their own pleasures far too much.” He paused with a glance at her, his expression filled with regret. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to refer to what you went through.”
“Not at all.” But she couldn’t halt the heat flooding her cheeks at the image of the ‘pleasures’ some men found in brothels. “I knew what you meant.” Once again, she was reminded of how thoughtful Daniel was.
“In any case, I think you’ll enjoy yourself. And how can you make a decision about how you would prefer to spend your life if you don’t experience more?”
Beatrice pondered the question. “Caroline suggested the dinner party could result in meeting someone in need of a companion or the like.”
“That’s an excellent point. A referral would make finding a position easier. While I see the need for honest servant registry offices, it would be better for both employers and employees to have a personal recommendation. A servant would rather hear of an opening from an acquaintance who already works for that employer, and an employer would prefer not to have a complete stranger staying in their home without having someone vouch for them.”
“True.”
“Here we are,” he said as they drove through the entrance to the park on a spacious gravel road. “The place is busy already for this time of year.”
From that moment on, Beatrice’s thoughts were filled with the sights of the river and woods that reminded her of the countryside where she’d lived her entire life. Then there were the fine horses to admire as well as the appearance of the others they passed.
Daniel was delightful company. His remarks about those he knew were amusing, giving her a more human view of them. He noted one gentleman’s tendency to wear padded breeches to enhance his form and a particular lady’s shrill laugh that caused everyone to wince when they heard it. The details he shared were an excellent reminder that no one was perfect.
She’d placed members of the ton on a pedestal, thinking them as ideal when they were far from it. They were people, too. They weren’t necessarily smarter or prettier or better but had faults and attributes like everyone else. However, many had money and a title or heritage they were proud of.
When Beatrice caught sight of Annabelle Gold, Caroline’s sister, moving toward them with a man, she smiled and returned her wave.
“Walker, good to see you,” Annabelle’s companion said as he drew his gig to a halt alongside them.
“Raybourne. How’s the publishing business these days?”
“Excellent.” The man smiled as his gaze shifted to Beatrice, his dimples making his smile impossible to not return.
“Allow me to introduce Miss Beatrice Linfield.” Daniel glanced at Beatrice. “Mr. Thomas Raybourne.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Raybourne dipped his head politely. “Annabelle has told me many nice things about you.”
“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” Annabelle asked as she glanced about. “I told Thomas he needed to step out of the office for some fresh air while the sun is shining.”
“It is indeed,” Beatrice answered, all too aware of the looks they were receiving from passersby. “Mr. Walker was kind enough to offer to show me the park.”
“Annabelle mentioned that you’re new to London,” Mr. Raybourne said.
“Yes, I am.” Beatrice was certain Annabelle would’ve told him what happened to her. Unease filled her as she wondered what he thought of her.
“I hope you have a chance to see some of the better attributes of our city than what you’ve witnessed thus far.” The continued respect in Mr. Raybourne’s expression was a welcome relief.
Daniel caught her gaze, and his warm regard bolstered her, easing her worry. “I’m doing my best to show her that not all of London is bad, nor all of the people in it.”
Mr. Raybourne shared a look with his betrothed. “We’ve seen our share of those who have acted poorly, haven’t we?”
Annabelle nodded. “I have yet to tell Miss Linfield that story, but I look forward to doing so soon.” Annabelle’s gaze met hers, and she smiled. “Caroline mentioned you’d be attending the Alverston dinner party tomorrow evening.”
“Will you be there?” The idea of knowing someone other than Lord and Lady Aberland was reassuring.
“Yes, we’re looking forward to it.”
They exchanged a few more words before moving on with their ride.
Beatrice breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps she was worrying too much about the dinner party. She’d enjoyed meeting strangers in her village, but recent events had made her overly cautious. “I don’t suppose you’re attending the dinner party.” Hope bloomed as having Daniel there would ensure the evening was enjoyable.
“I hadn’t planned to though I did receive an invitation.”
Her hope faded.
“Would you like me to?” he offered, much to her surprise.
“Not on my account.” It would be enough to have Annabelle and her betrothed there in addition to Caroline and Aberland.
“If it would ease your concern about the evening, I’d be happy to.”
“I’d like that very much.” The words rushed out before she could stop them. She should’ve refused his offer. Becoming dependent on him was a terrible idea. One that already worried her. But when it came to Daniel, she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“Then I look forward to it, but you have nothing to worry over. You’ll enjoy it, I’m sure. Those in attendance will be better off for having met you.”
Beatrice returned his smile, hoping he was right.
~*~
LATE THE FOLLOWING morning, Daniel paid a visit to Hurdy once again. He was quickly losing patience with the Runner and his seeming reluctance to arrest Finch and the others involved in the scheme.
Daniel had already sent a message advising Hurdy of the details of the visit to the servant registry office, including the clerk’s name who’d suggested the boarding house to Beatrice. Perhaps the Runner needed an additional monetary incentive to truly light a fire beneath him.
The Bow Street office was immediately northwest of Covent Garden in central London. In the 1740s, the office had actually been the residence of Westminster Justice of the Peace Thomas De Veil, who began hearing cases there. Now the office served as the magistrates’ court and the home of the Runners.
Daniel found Hurdy in the hall of the court, amongst those waiting for their cases to be heard before a magistrate. Most cases were minor in nature, such as theft or drunkenness. More serious cases were held at Old Bailey next to Newgate Prison.
One need only glance around the hall to realize how diverse London had become. Immigrants now rubbed shoulders with Englishmen in many areas of the city, including this one.
“Mr. Walker.” Hurdy looked less than pleased to see him based on his frown. “What brings you here today?”
“I’d like an update on the investigation. I thought by now you would’ve made an arrest.”
“This is a complicated case with several individuals involved. You can’t expect me to simply march into the brothel, escort everyone out, and arrest Finch.”
“Actually, that is exactly what I expect. At the very least, I thought you would have arrested the other two men involved in the scheme.”
“I’ve visited with both of them. Johnson swears innocence, saying he only offered lodging to Miss Linfield. He confirmed that his wife provides meals for the lodgers, but insists she never drugged them, nor did she have access to any sort of drug.”
“Surely you don’t believe him after what happened to Miss Linfield?” Daniel didn’t bother to hide his incredulity.
“Proof is required in order to request a warrant for an arrest. At this point, it’s her word against everyone else’s. Miss Linfield didn’t witness anything being put in her food. She’s only assuming that’s what happened.”
“I don’t believe for a moment that she’s the only victim of their foul plot.”
“I agree, but again, without proof, what would you have me do?” Hurdy shook his head. “The same can be said of the clerk at the registry office. Until I can prove his association with Finch in some manner, I can only warn him. I hope the realization that we’re looking into the matter will be enough to put an end to their involvement in the scheme.”
Daniel dearly wanted to punch something. He understood Hurdy’s predicament, but in the meantime, more women were being forced into prostitution. Of that, he had no doubt. Warnings might make the men involved cautious for a time but wouldn’t halt them for long.
“Can’t you conduct a search of the brothel? There was another woman there by the name of Mary who was also being held, remember?”
“I do.” Hurdy scowled. “We searched the place, but not one of the women would admit to being imprisoned there. Nor did we find one named Mary. I would guess the ones with whom we spoke either decided prostitution was the only way to have shelter and regular meals or were too scared to say what had happened to them or how they’d come to be in the place.”
“What happens next?” Daniel couldn’t imagine telling Beatrice that nothing would be done to keep other women from experiencing the same trauma she had.
“We keep an eye on all of them when possible.”
“Meaning you’ll investigate if someone else files a complaint as well.”
“Or when we have some sort of proof.” Hurdy shook his head. “I wish I had better news for you. Finch is a nasty character, but he has those women under his thumb, and they’re reluctant to tell the truth for fear of punishment. One had a blackened eye but swore she fell.”
“Damn.” How many women had Finch taken? Women who arrived in London to search for work, leaving their family and everything familiar behind. But no doubt those families never heard from them again and had no idea how to locate them.
“If there’s no one to report a lost loved one,” Hurdy continued, “then Finch doesn’t have to worry. Perhaps that’s why he chooses women who are new to the city. They don’t know anyone, and there’s no one to sound the alarm that they’ve gone missing.”
That was what would’ve happened to Beatrice if she hadn’t found the fortitude to escape. Finch probably had the newer women drugged to keep them from truly understanding what was happening. Or from having the desire to escape. Once they realized what was expected of them, many probably sought drugs or alcohol to blur their new reality.
Daniel was both sad and angry at the thought and refused to sit idly by when he knew what was happening. Hurdy’s hands might be tied, but Daniel’s weren’t. He wasn’t restricted by legalities. Not when he already had all the proof he needed.
“I wish I had better news,” Hurdy added, obviously unaware of Daniel’s dark thoughts.
“As do I. Will you keep me apprised if any further developments arise?” Daniel handed him three pounds which should be enough to convince him to continue pursuing the case.
“Of course.” Hurdy dipped his head in thanks as he pocketed the money.
Daniel took his leave, his thoughts swirling. What had happened to Beatrice demanded justice in one form or another. And it appeared that he’d have to be the one to dole it out.
~*~
BEATRICE TURNED TO the side and then the other before the cheval glass in Caroline’s bedchamber, hardly able to believe her appearance.
“Margaret, your talent amazes me,” she declared.
Margaret grinned. “My work is easy when I have an attractive person to dress.”
Margaret had modified a gown she’d already been working on to fit Beatrice. Though Beatrice had protested, Caroline insisted, saying her first social event was special and required the proper attire.
The green was a shade deeper than was normally considered fashionable, but the darker tone brought out Beatrice’s golden hair and grey eyes. At least, that’s what Margaret said. Beatrice already knew she had excellent taste based on Caroline and Annabelle’s attire.
Life in Beatrice’s small village hadn’t been spent worrying about fashion, but the circles in which Lord and Lady Aberland moved meant it was a necessity.
“It isn’t about how much money one spends on gowns,” Margaret said, “but about how they fit and enhance one’s appearance.”
“I don’t pretend to understand how you know, but you do.” Beatrice couldn’t help but admire the gown in the mirror once more. “I only wish I could tell everyone that you designed it.”
“Unfortunately, such things are frowned upon.” Margaret shook her head. “No one can be seen working. There’s a reminder that you’re not the only one keeping a secret.”
“It’s not the same thing,” Beatrice began.
“It is, actually,” Caroline interjected as she joined them with a length of white ribbon in hand. “If anyone knew Margaret designed and sewed our gowns over the years, she’d be ruined. One does not dally in trade.”
“She’s right.” Margaret gave a single nod. “It’s one thing to admire fashion but a completely different thing to actually partake in creating it.”
“The same is true for Annabelle.” Caroline held Beatrice’s gaze. “If people knew she wrote books, let alone the sort of mysteries she pens, she would be ruined as well.”
Beatrice stilled as that truth sank in. Caroline had lent her a copy of Annabelle’s book, but after spending a sleepless night, she’d come to the conclusion she could only read it during the day. The story had held her from the start, forcing her to turn just one more page to find out what happened. The idea that Annabelle, who was so kind and friendly, wrote the mystery came as a surprise.
Why should following one’s passion, like Margaret and Annabelle did, ruin a person just as Beatrice had been ruined for being held in a brothel? Society’s rules were difficult to understand and seemed especially unfair for women.
“Everyone has secrets of one sort or another.” Margaret held her gaze in the cheval glass. “That’s why it’s so important to surround yourself with those you can trust.”
“And those you love.” Caroline stepped forward to wind her arm through Margaret’s. “The people in your life make an incredible difference.”
“True.” Margaret nodded, though a shadow lingered in her eyes.
From what Caroline had told Beatrice, their father, Sir Reginald, was failing mentally. That had been another secret they’d done their best to hide, fearful it would adversely affect his shipping business along with their place in Society. Now that Caroline was Lady Aberland, the worry had lessened because her husband was involved in the business and held a title.
Mayhap everyone truly did have a secret. The thought bolstered Beatrice’s confidence almost as much as the gown.
“I shall keep that in mind this evening.” Beatrice wiggled her brows. “And I will do my best to discover others’ secrets without revealing my own.”
Caroline chuckled. “That’s the spirit. It will be an entertaining night. I shall watch for you to nod, indicating you’ve uncovered one.”
“As long as you do the same.” Beatrice shared a smile with Caroline before turning to Margaret. “I wish you were going as well.”
“Alas, I am needed at home. Mother is having dinner with our aunt, the Marchioness of Whirlenhall, so I am spending the evening with Father.”
“I’d be happy to trade places with you,” Caroline offered.
“You’ve done more than your share with him this week as has Annabelle. I’m happy to spend time with him.”
“You’re certain?” Caroline’s eyes narrowed.
“Absolutely.” Margaret turned to Beatrice again, looking her over from head to toe. “I only wish I’d be there to witness the reaction of those you meet. I have no doubt you’ll shine.”
“Thanks to you and your beautiful creation, at the very least, I will look my best.” Beatrice smoothed her hands down the front of the gown, wondering what Daniel would think when he saw her.
~*~
BEATRICE SETTLED INTO a chair at the Alverstons’ beautiful table, complete with glittering crystal, polished silver, and delicate china, but could only wonder where Daniel was.
“Miss Linfield, how long did you say you’ve been in London?” Viscount Chivington asked.
The young lord was nice enough and rather handsome unless one compared him to Daniel. Which, of course, Beatrice did.
“Just over a fortnight. It’s been an...interesting experience.” That was an understatement if she’d ever heard one. “So different than the village where I was raised.”
“A vicar’s daughter, you said? That must’ve been interesting as well.”
“It was.” She smiled politely and nodded, more than ready to change the subject. If there was one thing she’d learned as a vicar’s daughter, it was how to carry on a conversation. One need only discover the interests of the other party and ask open-ended questions. “And what of you? Have you traveled or do you stay close to London?” From the pampered look of the man, she didn’t think he’d served in the war.
“I’ve traveled extensively.” He paused to sip the wine a footman poured. “Greece was one of my favorite countries.”
She couldn’t imagine venturing there. London was the farthest she’d traveled. “What made it so appealing?”
“The sea there is stunning, the beach equally so. The food is much different than English fare.”
Beatrice nodded as the viscount continued then glanced toward where Caroline and Aberland sat, wishing she were closer. Annabelle and her husband were at the opposite end, leaving her alone in the middle. If only Daniel had come. She had no doubt the sight of him across the table would settle her nerves. Where could he be? She might not know him well, but she knew it wasn’t normal for him to break his word.
“What of the sights?” she asked. “Was there a particular one that caught your interest?”
The conversation continued easily as the viscount spoke, seemingly happy to have a captive audience with whom to discuss his adventures.
The first course was a delicious chestnut soup. Before the second course was served, she managed to strike up a conversation with the gentleman to her right, though he had little to say. He was more intent on enjoying the meal than visiting with her, especially once the second course of roasted beef, savoury pie, and carrots cooked in a rich butter sauce arrived.
By the time a delicious berry trifle was served, she’d had enough of hearing about the viscount’s travels. Soon the ladies rose to retire to the drawing room and leave the men to their port.
“I wonder where Daniel is this evening,” Caroline said when she joined Beatrice.
“I was wondering the same. He said he was coming.”
“Our hostess thought so as well. She seemed most unhappy to have an odd number of guests.”
“Should we worry at his absence?” Beatrice asked.
“We’ll see what Aberland thinks when the men join us. Perhaps he merely lost track of time at the club.” Yet the concern in her eyes suggested she didn’t believe that.
Her disquiet only served to make Beatrice worry all the more. He’d mentioned he intended to visit Mr. Hurdy again this morning. Could that have something to do with his absence? Had he discovered new information that caused him not to come?
Her stomach tightened at the thought. She knew he was upset with the Bow Street Runner for not making any arrests. Surely Daniel hadn’t decided to do anything drastic.
Yet all sorts of dire images filled her mind as the idea took hold. The thought of him confronting Finch in some manner was terrifying. Though she had faith in Daniel’s ability to protect himself, Finch had a cold-bloodedness to him that stated exactly what he was willing to do—protect himself and what he considered his, regardless of the consequences.
Would Daniel have gone there alone? Was he merely watching the brothel again, or had he entered? Neither option reassured her in the least.
“Smile,” Annabelle said as she joined them. “From your expressions, it looks as if someone died.”
Beatrice stared at Annabelle, dismay flooding her, praying Annabelle hadn’t unwittingly spoken the truth.
