Chapter Twenty-Three

Kat strode up the steps to the Montrose residence and smiled gratefully when she caught sight of Fenton standing at the entrance waiting for her. Reliable, steady, and supremely efficient Fenton. He really had become her rock since Victor died.

He stood stiffly in the early afternoon sunlight, a frown marring his features. Fenton never frowned. In fact, his face rarely revealed any emotions, which was what made him so effective in all of his varied roles.

“Miss Merriweather told me what happened,” he said without preamble. “Are you all right?” There was worry in his glance as it swept over her. It was also rare to see such an emotion in the light blue depths of his eyes.

“I am fine.” Kat stopped in front of him, touched that he was so concerned for her.

Sagely, he nodded his head, seeming satisfied with her answer. “Good.” He walked over to the front door and opened it for her. “I’d suspected as much, though one can never be entirely certain when Miss Merriweather is trying to recall the details.”

Stepping through the threshold and into the entrance hall, Fenton closed the door behind them and twisted the lock. He always believed that the townhouse should be secure, day or night.

“Fenton, do you still have any contacts within the War Office?” she asked, as she walked over to the mirror and regarded her very disheveled appearance. Oh goodness, what Marcus must have thought at the sight.

“I do.” He walked over to her and stopped a few feet from the table. “Did the men provide information, then?”

She swiveled around and faced him. “No. Unfortunately for us, someone decided they shouldn’t be questioned and eliminated them before the earl and I arrived.”

To an onlooker, Fenton’s bland expression changed little, but Kat could see the tightening at the corner of his eyes and a definite expression of worry passed over his countenance. “Murdered?”

Kat nodded. “Stabbed in the heart, all three, as was the guard watching them. But of particular interest was that there was no sign of any struggles.”

“Which would suggest they either knew their killer or else felt comfortable enough with whomever it was to relax their guard,” Fenton said.

One could always count on Fenton to assess a situation quickly. “Yes. I think it was an inside job.”

“Someone certainly didn’t want you and the earl speaking with them.” He looked at her sharply. “Is what Miss Merriweather said true, that the men were waiting for you at the back of Gingham’s shop?”

“That is what one of them said.”

For the first time Kat could ever remember, the unflappable Fenton looked scared. “I will make some inquiries immediately with some of my old contacts in the department.” He bowed to her and began walking down the corridor. He stopped suddenly and turned around to face her. “Please do take care, little miss, dangerous times are afoot. I fear you may be right and there is a traitor in our midst.”

Kat watched him glide off down the hall. He hadn’t called her “little miss” since she was ten. It was somewhat disconcerting to see him so worried. A cold chill fleetingly ran through her, but she shook it off and turned toward the sitting room.

Daisy was standing at the door looking at her, worry knitting her brows together. “I’ve been fretting dreadfully about you.” She rushed over and gave Kat a hug, clearly no longer holding on to their argument from the other day.

“Not you, too!” Kat briefly returned the embrace and then stepped back.

“Fenton is right to be worried,” Daisy said, turning and walking back into the room, with Kat following. “What does he mean by a traitor in our midst?”

“What is this about a traitor?” Etta spoke up from where she was sitting on the lounge.

“You didn’t go home?” Kat walked over to the lounge and gratefully sank down onto the soft cushions next to Etta and sighed. It had been a trying day and she was only now starting to feel every single ache and pain slicing through her body from her earlier clash. A nice hot bath would be just the thing. Her knee was really starting to pain her.

“I couldn’t, not until I knew you were home safe.” Etta tapped her toe somewhat impatiently, as Daisy took a seat across from them both. “How did it all go?”

Kat recounted the afternoon’s events to the two of them. Both women stayed completely silent during the telling and indeed said nothing for a full minute after she was done.

Daisy was the first to speak. “That’s unfortunate, particularly for the innocent guard, though I can’t say I’m sorry about the three other men. They clearly deserved to die.”

“Daisy!” Etta exclaimed. “I’ve never heard you speak a bad word about anyone.”

Daisy looked uncomfortable at her bold words as she smoothed out the skirts of her dress. “Goodness knows what they’d have done to our Kaitlyn if they’d succeeded in capturing her.”

“That may be the case,” Etta agreed. “But being killed is perhaps a tad harsh.”

“I’m starting to come around to the idea of an eye for an eye,” Daisy primly replied, her eyes catching Kat’s. “Some people do deserve to die, I am beginning to realize. And besides, they would have gone to the gallows for daring to touch an earl’s daughter. Whoever killed them simply sped up the process.”

Kat leaned over and took a biscuit from the plate on the table in front of her. “They could have at least waited until I’d questioned them,” she muttered, taking a bite of the crumbly deliciousness.

Etta shook her head at both of them and helped herself to a biscuit, too, sighing in contentment after the first bite.

Daisy picked up her teacup and took a dainty sip. “Kaitlyn,” she began, “I wish to be taught how to shoot a pistol and maybe even how to throw a knife.”

Kat paused, her mouth gaping with her biscuit still midair, while Etta began choking on her mouthful. Kat had to thump Etta’s back several times to stop her friend from choking on the thing.

“You want to do what?” Etta got out after her coughing had subsided.

Daisy raised her chin high in the air. “You heard me!” She turned to look at Kat. “Well? What do you say, will you teach me?”

“But you have never had any inclination to learn before,” Kat said, still digesting the request. “In fact, you have always been against any form of defense being taught… We only just recently argued about it.”

“Well,” Daisy began, “today has shown me that knowing how to protect oneself may indeed be necessary. If you’re a target, then Samuel and I might also be. I can’t keep burying my head in the sand as I wish I could.”

Kat inclined her head and regarded Daisy intently. “Are you certain you want to learn?”

There was a slight pause before she answered. “I am.”

“Very well, then. I shall teach you,” Kat said. “I’ll get Fenton to teach you how to shoot a pistol first. He’s an expert at it, and I’m going to be busy hunting the Chameleon. Is that acceptable?”

“It is.”

Wonders would never cease. Daisy wanting to learn to shoot and throw a dagger. Maybe there was hope for Samuel to be properly trained up, yet. “Do you wish to learn fighting techniques, too, then?”

“Oh, goodness no!” Daisy said with disdain. “That would be going too far. No. I only wish to learn shooting and throwing a dagger.”

“You don’t care anymore about it being unladylike?”

Daisy scrunched up her face. “Well, it’s not as if I shall be advertising learning such a thing. Can you imagine the looks I’d get if anyone knew I was doing so, or they saw me doing it, for that matter?”

“Actually, I think they’d look upon you in wonder, as Cantfield did today with Kat,” Etta said, rather softly.

“He did?” Kat asked, perplexed.

“They all did.” Etta folded her hands over her chest and an annoyed expression washed across her face. “Cantfield especially. It was as if he couldn’t believe a woman could do such a thing. That bounder needs to be shown that women are not to be treated as play things that can’t think. That we’re more than capable of protecting ourselves and don’t need a man to do so.”

“You get passionate when you talk about Cantfield.”

Etta grimaced. “The man makes me so angry.”

“I’ve noticed.” It was odd, too, as Etta really only ever got angry about social injustices and her father’s attempts to marry her off to a title. “In any event, we all need to get ready to go to the opera.”

“The opera?” Daisy blinked. “Surely, you’re going to rest this evening after what happened today.”

“Lord Danbury is going to be in attendance, against the advice of nearly everyone,” Kat said. “And I imagine it’d be a wonderful venue for the Chameleon to strike. Though you’ll both be quite safe in Westwood’s box, as he and Cantfield will also be there. Which is why I do particularly need a chaperone tonight.”

Daisy arched one of her blonde brows. “A chaperone? You happily lark around London through the day on your own, or with Westwood, it seems. Why on earth would you need a chaperone for anything?”

“Sarcasm does not become you,” Kat said. “Besides, you know I can get away with it through the day, but at night, especially at the opera and in front of the eyes of high Society, I’m not quite so fortunate. So, what do you both say? Ready for a night of entertainment? You’ll enjoy The Mikado. I’ve heard it’s thoroughly entertaining.”

“Goodness, Kaitlyn, yes, I shall accompany you,” Daisy said. “Though I swear you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Yes, you’ve said that before.” The only person Kat wanted to be the death of was the Chameleon, which could even be tonight, if her quarry showed his hand. With the amount of security Marcus was arranging to protect Danbury, it was unlikely, though one could always hope.