Chapter Fourteen
It was late afternoon when they crawled out of bed, dressed, and began the half-mile walk to Emily’s house on Great Eastcheap. Lovemaking had left them exhausted and sated to their bones, but Eleanor wanted the exercise.
“My head throbs a little, and exertion is good for the blood.”
Theo regarded her with some amusement. “After our romp in bed, I imagine your blood was coursing faster than the Rhine.” He brushed her hip with his hand, relishing her little shiver.
A pretty blush stained her cheeks. “I hadn’t expected it to be so vigorous. Lady Mulberry said she often naps during her husband’s conjugal visits.”
Theo laughed. “Do ladies tell their modistes all their personal secrets?” He reached for her hand, wrapping it around his arm as they walked. Since leaving the shop, she seemed unsure whether to touch him.
He couldn’t get enough of her.
“Yes, mostly tales of how they avoid marital relations. One lady, who shall remain nameless, drinks a tincture to bring on nausea.”
He sensed her relaxing now and asked the question they had been avoiding. “Do you regret what happened between us earlier?”
Despite the crowded pavement, she brought him to a halt on Watling Street. “Don’t feel guilty. I seduced you.” She looked at him as if remembering the pleasure they’d shared. “You didn’t hurl me over your shoulder and throw me onto the bed.”
“I can play the Neanderthal if you’d prefer, though I rather like it when you ravish me.” A man knew a lady desired him when she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. “Next time, I shall act the scoundrel.”
She bit down on her lip. “There’ll be a next time?”
“We’re lovers, Eleanor. I’m yours until you tire of me.”
A long sigh escaped her. “I have spent my whole life planning for the future. Spent every day fulfilling my parents’ dream. There’s no need for us to think beyond today.”
As the only brother left keeping Aaron company, he should have felt relieved. Yet he experienced an odd tug of regret.
“Now, let us concentrate on the case,” she said, gripping his arm as they walked. “Mr Daventry will expect an update tomorrow.”
Based on the evidence, there was only one suspect. “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say the man Emily lives with is the beast who attacked you in the yard. They wanted you out of the way so they could steal your supplies.”
Eleanor was quick to make excuses for her seamstress. “I would have noticed if bolts of material had gone missing. And I had no reason to doubt Emily’s loyalty.”
“When did you last take an inventory of your stock?”
She muttered to herself while trying to remember. “A while ago. I’ve been busy and never needed to do more than a rough count.”
He paused, unsure whether to tell her what he’d found, but they had made a pact to be truthful. “Gibbs said Emily came late at night and tried to unlock the door. She ran away before he had time to question her. And according to your ledger, you should have four silver hat pins in your cabinet. I could only find three.”
“What?” The word carried the weight of surprise and the pain of betrayal. “Are you sure?”
“I’m certain.” He’d hurt her once before and wouldn’t deliver upsetting news without justification. “If I’m right, we will have the culprit in custody before nightfall.”
A flicker of dread shot through him. It wasn’t that he enjoyed playing the detective, but he enjoyed spending time in her company. And something told him that solving her problems wouldn’t be that simple.
Eleanor spent the rest of the journey trying to find a valid reason for Emily’s duplicity. “She’s kind and as gentle as a lamb. I’m sure there’ll be a valid reason for her actions.”
Theo smiled to himself. Eleanor Darrow had a good heart. She did not belittle others—only Mrs Dunwoody, but he was grateful for that. She liked to believe the best in people. One would think a woman who had never felt loved would be bitter.
“I hope you’re right,” he said, fearing how she would cope with more bad news. Emily would not have stolen the silk if he had not taken the sewing box. “You do not deserve to suffer.”
“My father would disagree,” was her sad response.
The narrow terrace house on Great Eastcheap did not look like a slum or a den for thieves. The windows were clean, the door newly painted. A swift rap on the polished brass knocker yielded no response. Despite further attempts to rouse the occupants, no one came to the door.
In the street, an older boy stopped chasing a stray dog and called to them. “There ain’t no one home. For a penny, I can tell you where to find them. Who you looking for? Mr Rogers? Emily?”
Theo considered the boy’s torn trousers. He drew a sovereign from his waistcoat pocket and twirled it around his fingers. “Are they the only people who live here?”
“No.” The boy stared at the gold coin as if it were a piece of plum pie. “Mrs Rogers cooks and cleans for the vicar of St Clement’s and won’t be home for hours. You’ll find Jack Rogers at the Red Lion down Billingsgate docks.” Disdain coated his words. “He won’t be home till they throw him out.”
“Where might we find Emily?” Eleanor said.
The boy held out his grubby hand. “Cross my palm, and I’ll tell you what I heard this morning.”
“I’ll chase you if you run,” Theo warned before dropping the coin into the child’s hand. “What did you hear this morning?”
Clutching the sovereign as one did their purse in Covent Garden, the boy said, “He took Emily with him, told her she can’t come home until she’s earned two shillings. Said she’s a burden, and he’ll put her out on the street if she ain’t found a job by Monday.”
Theo glanced at Eleanor. Her lips were pressed into a solemn line, and her eyes carried a haunted look as if disturbed by ghosts from the past.
She gulped before speaking. “I understand the pressure to please one’s kin. Is he hurting Emily? Is he forcing her to do criminal things against her will?”
The boy shrugged. “He don’t care what she does as long as she pays her way. He treats her no better than his mangy dog. Says they’re both pains in the rear.”
