The shop bell tinkled, and two women entered.
The proprietor greeted the newcomers before returning to their conversation. “It’s hard for Anna, living with her brother. She is keen for Geoffrey to marry in the hope a sensible woman might curb his frivolous ways.”
Frivolous ways? Mr Franklin seemed the practical sort.
“Well, I shall not say a word. I’m pleased Anna’s sewing is giving her a small income.” As the lady had been so helpful, Eleanor decided to make a purchase. “I don’t need a reticule, but might I look at that gold cannetille brooch with the cluster of green stones?”
When the owner went to fetch the brooch, Theo whispered, “I shall buy you one with real emeralds. One with a price tag of more than twelve shillings.”
“I like simple things. The cost doesn’t matter.”
Eleanor made the purchase, although Theo insisted on paying.
He stopped outside the shop and pinned the brooch to her pelisse, his fingers brushing her breast. “The need to see you smile is becoming a compulsion.”
She touched his hand, her heart fluttering with the depth of her affection. “Good. You can treat me to coffee and a slab of seed cake. There’s a quaint little coffeehouse on Bishopsgate, a short walk from here.”
“Remember we’re dining with Aaron tonight.”
She chuckled and gripped his arm. “Any lady will tell you, cake never spoils one’s dinner.”
They were about to walk away when the other Miss Franklin burst out of the emporium and thrust a package into Eleanor’s hand. “Would you mind giving this to Anna? It will save her the walk here.”
Eleanor turned the wrapped item over, confident it was a book. “I might not see her until tomorrow.”
“Perfect. I doubt she’ll have time to call before the weekend.” The lady patted Eleanor’s arm. “The brooch looks marvellous on you, Miss Darrow.” And then she dashed back to the shop.
They sat in Pickins coffeehouse eating cake and discussing the unlikely friendship between Lady Lucille and Anna Franklin.
“It makes no sense,” she said, licking crumbs from her lips. “They met once, maybe twice, while Lady Lucille attended a dress fitting. They couldn’t have exchanged more than a few words.”
“Yet now they’re sending secret missives and arranging assignations.” Theo leant forward and brushed her lip with his thumb, though looked like he wanted to eat her.
“Did I miss more crumbs?”
“Just one, but I needed an excuse to touch you.” He glanced at the book on the table, wrapped in brown paper and fastened with string. “Will you give Miss Franklin the book? If you do, it’s as good as admitting we know about her secret meetings with Lucille Bowman.”
Eleanor sipped her coffee as she considered the question. Her patience had worn thin. She was tired of tiptoeing around. It was time to grab the proverbial bull by the horns. Maybe set a trap.
“Theo, what if Lady Lucille used Miss Franklin?”
“For what purpose?”
“To retrieve my diary. To cover her tracks so Lord Wrotham doesn’t discover she paid his debts. Perhaps Miss Franklin knew I kept a record of my dealings with the aristocracy.” Had she been spying, watching Eleanor’s every move? “She might have seen it during our sewing lessons.”
Theo relaxed back in the chair. “The woman is as timid as a mouse, though I imagine that serves as an excellent disguise.”
“How did Miss Franklin know about my accident?” A chill ran across Eleanor’s shoulders. “Maybe she pushed me down the stairs. She stole into the shop to pinch my diary. Heaven knows where she got a key.”
Theo thought for a moment. “Why would Miss Franklin risk her neck just to appease Lucille Bowman? Why would either woman want to harm you? I cannot help but think we’re missing a vital clue.”
Yes, why would two women from different social backgrounds conspire together? “Lady Lucille doesn’t want anyone knowing I delivered her letters.”
“You’re not likely to tell Wrotham.”
“She doesn’t know that.” Eleanor had noticed the unmistakable glint of jealousy in the lady’s eyes that night at the Olympic. “Mr Daventry will know how to proceed. We should seek his counsel.”
Theo diverted his attention, focusing on the tall, sturdy man standing outside the tobacconists across the street.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m sure I saw that man in New Bridge Street yesterday. And he entered the Red Lion tavern near the docks when I was wrestling the truth from Jack Rogers.”
Eleanor gave a surreptitious glance out the window. “Are you sure? He’s the same height and build as most dockworkers.”
“Look closely. Though his clothes suggest he’s a labourer, he has a gold watch in his pocket.” Theo straightened. “Someone hired him to follow us. That, or a debt-ridden lord named me the first to die when he made a bet at White’s. Wait here.”
Eleanor shot out of the chair. “You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.” She snatched the book off the table. “Please, Theo. Don’t leave me here.”
Theo sighed but made no objection. “You’ll do exactly as I say. We need to be certain he’s following us. It’s a short walk to Fortune’s Den. We’ll lure him there.”
He paid the bill and escorted Eleanor along Bishopsgate.
“When we reach the street corner, drop the book,” Theo said. “Make it look like an accident. As you bend to retrieve it, check if we’re being followed.”
Though nerves assailed her, she did as he asked, stealing a quick peek before picking up the book. “He’s walking behind us at a distance of twenty yards. Two other men have joined him.”
“Cursed saints!” He gripped her hand. “Keep walking.”
