Page 11 of A Silence in Belgrave Square (Below Stairs #8)

Grace and I peered into a few shop windows in Knightsbridge, pretending idle curiosity, then we turned down Wilton Place to Wilton Crescent, as though simply wandering along.

We admired the elegant rows of homes we passed and soon found ourselves approaching the elite quadrangle that was Belgrave Square.

The fact that Daniel wanted his son and me to know his exact whereabouts—he’d never have told us as much as he did if not—meant he feared what might happen to him in that abode. If he hadn’t, he’d have said nothing at all.

I kept us to the north side of the square, worried that a sharp-eyed Daniel would spy us if we drew too close. Grand houses in pale shades of yellow, ivory, and pink lined the roads, surrounding a lushly wooded park behind an iron fence.

Each home rose four floors from the street with an attic above and had flat-roofed porticoes over the front entrances supported by Greek-style columns.

A pediment ran above most second floors, lending interest to the otherwise flat facade, and railings shut off the stairs that led down to the kitchens and servants’ domains.

The entire street had a classical appearance, which had been popular much earlier this century, unlike the red bricks and black shutters of the older homes in Mayfair.

The entire area was luxurious but rather forbidding to those not wealthy enough to live here. One had to be invited into these places, with no cheery welcome as I would receive knocking on the door of Joanna’s house.

I led Grace across the street to walk along the west side of the square, keeping carriages and delivery vans between us and the park side of the road. Grace traipsed along beside me, subdued, as though she had no interest in the beautiful homes around her.

I continued south, well past the square, the road changing to one called Belgrave Place. Not far along, I found the narrow artery that was the mews James had mentioned.

This lane, which ran behind the large homes on the south end of the square, contained coach houses and stables for horses and carriages, plus quarters for the grooms and coachmen who worked for the families.

It was a typical mews, with horses being groomed under the open sky, men tinkering with vehicles their masters would soon require, and grooms and stable boys lounging against the walls, passing the time of day when they weren’t harried to another chore.

I spied the back of number 38, having found its exact location on a map I’d been studying in my chamber for the past few nights.

James had been right about the passageway to the kitchen door. I edged into the mews as far as I dared, and saw that the small corridor ran between the wall of the house next door and whatever room jutted from the house it was in. I glimpsed a solid door, shut, at the end of the passageway.

The house’s ground floor had no windows in back, possibly so the inhabitants wouldn’t have to view the horses, who left dung everywhere, and the stable boys with brooms who swept the refuse away. The higher floors did have windows, which fortunately for me were muffled by heavy curtains.

I gazed at the door, probably meant for deliveries, which likely opened to a set of wooden stairs leading to the kitchens. Behind those windows above me, Daniel was no doubt attending to whatever business a secretary to a viscount would do.

He might also be ill, hurt, held captive, even dead. I could not know, and Mr.Monaghan probably wouldn’t bother to tell me if so.

Would the others at Scotland Yard give James or me the awful news if the worst happened? Or did Inspector McGregor and other detectives even know what Daniel and Monaghan were up to? Would they realize if Daniel had been killed or simply wonder why he’d ceased turning up?

My careening thoughts threatened to land me in a panic. I told myself that Hannah was inside that house, and there wasn’t much that frightened her. She’d look after Daniel, which was one reason I’d immediately thought of her for this covert task.

One of the grooms noticed us lingering and started toward us. I turned Grace, gave the groom a little smile and nod, and walked on. We were simply two ladies who’d stopped to admire the fine homes and the carriage houses that went with them.

The groom nodded courteously back, but he watched until we were out of sight.

* * *

Grace and I returned to wander through Hyde Park, as we’d come all this way, but we were both distracted.

“When will Uncle Daniel be able to come home?” Grace asked. “It must be awful to be a police detective.”

I agreed, though I’d always wondered what sort of role Daniel actually played at Scotland Yard. He certainly did not sit behind a desk with his name on a placard as did the sergeants and inspectors I’d met there.

“I wish I knew,” I told Grace. “It is devilish worrying.”

“James wants to be in the police,” Grace announced. “He says then he could be paid for running about nosing into things, which he does anyway.”

“Does he?” Time was marching on, so I led us out of the peaceful park and its vast stretches of green back to the road.

We passed the gate to the splendid Apsley House and entered Piccadilly.

“When did he tell you this?” I hadn’t heard James mention his future much when he’d joined us on our outings.

“A few weeks ago. James comes to the house to visit sometimes. He’s a nice lad.”

I had not known of this. James was nearly a grown man and could visit whomever he liked, but I didn’t realize he was a regular guest at Joanna’s.

Grace was growing more lovely every day. She was a bit younger than James, but…

Oh dear.

My heart beat swiftly as I hurried toward a hansom stand and a cabbie waiting there.

Grace and James? It was natural that they would become friends, as Daniel and I were growing so close. Grace was still a girl, but the five-year difference in age between her and James would become less important in time.

Nonsense, I told myself. Grace was still far too young to attract the attention of a lad like James. Joanna’s daughter Jane was turning into a pretty young lady. Perhaps James’s interest lay there.

This relieved me somewhat, but not entirely. I could think of no finer young man than James McAdam to court my daughter, but gracious, it was far too soon to be worrying about that.

Once we were in the hansom, I determinedly turned our conversation to everyday things, such as what Grace was learning under Joanna’s tutelage and how Joanna and Sam’s oldest son, Matthew, was now in a good grammar school, thanks to Sam’s hard work and a scholarship Matthew had earned for his diligence.

Sam was employed again, thank heaven, after his firm in the City had tried to have him blamed for all sorts last year.

He now was a clerk in a quiet solicitor’s office near Gray’s Inn, earning a decent salary helping his solicitor sort through lawsuits.

Not anything I would understand, but Sam was happy enough.

So chatting, we wended our way across the metropolis and into the City to alight in Cheapside.

Saying good-bye to Grace grew more difficult each time. I was missing her growing-up years, and one day soon, I feared she’d want our little outings to cease altogether.

I held Grace as long as I could, liking that she held me back as tightly.

Our excursion had taken enough time that I could not stay for tea. Instead I’d return to Mount Street and make tea for others. That was what I was paid to do, I reminded myself. If I ceased making a living, I’d not be able to provide what little I could for my beloved girl.

Both Grace and Joanna waved at me cheerfully as I departed, but I wiped my eyes as I emerged into Cheapside.

Because my quick tears had blurred the crowds, I did not see the man in spectacles who cut across the street until he stepped in front of me.

“Mrs.Holloway,” he said in his expressionless voice.

I knew two gentlemen who wore spectacles. One was the congenial Mr.Thanos, who didn’t like to be seen in his, though he squinted at everything without them.

The other was the gray-haired, cold-eyed Mr.Monaghan, who commanded Daniel’s life and held his fist around his soul.

I stopped short, my heart in my throat, but I refused to allow this man to know how much he unnerved me. I lifted my chin and met his cool gaze with one of my own.

“Mr.Monaghan, I believe I told you not to come anywhere near my daughter.”

“I waited until you’d seen her home,” Monaghan said, as though his behavior was entirely reasonable. “I will speak to you.”

Not I would like to or please, may I? Monaghan was so used to commanding people he did not know how to cease.

“I must return to Mayfair, or I will be late.” I started to move around him, but he caught my arm in a surprisingly strong grip and jerked me back.

I considered screaming and flailing, shouting at passersby that I was being robbed. The mob could quickly be stirred against a miscreant.

Monaghan did not hold me roughly, but his grasp was firm. I kept my silence only because I feared he’d retaliate against Daniel if I was uncooperative. Or he might simply haul me to the nearest police station and request they lock me in.

“If it is that important you must walk along with me,” I said, pretending I wasn’t rattled. “I really must reach my kitchen soon or be out of a job. Then I will go to Scotland Yard and blame you. Inspector McGregor will take my complaint.”

Monaghan’s lips thinned. I had no idea if Inspector McGregor, who disliked Monaghan intensely, could have any effect on the man’s employment, but Monaghan was not happy that I’d mentioned his name.

“Let us walk, then.” He released me but stayed close beside me, his longer stride propelling me along.

I said nothing, waiting for him to begin. I’d learned at an early age to never let the police know more than they needed. Even an honest woman could find herself arrested on the merest pretense if she said the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Not until we’d passed through St. Paul’s Churchyard and emerged into Ludgate Hill did he speak. I’d steered us in that direction, not wishing to take the northerly route from Cheapside, which would pass too near Newgate Prison for my comfort.

“Stay away from Belgrave Square,” Monaghan stated. “If you go near it again, I will have you arrested.”

My mouth went dry. “You’ve been following me about?” I tried to make my voice light. “A free subject like myself? I believe I shall lodge that complaint at Scotland Yard.”

“The house is watched. Anyone who passes it is reported to me. You stay away. Tell the boy to as well.”

James was hardly a boy any longer, but I knew whom he meant. I waited for Monaghan to mention Hannah, but he did not, to my relief. His watchers must believe she truly was a maid and nothing more.

“You have placed Daniel into grave danger, haven’t you?” I asked. “No, he did not explain his mission, but I know that any assignment from you is fraught with peril. It is only natural that I am concerned.”

“Your concern could kill him.” Monaghan’s lips were flat. “I will drop you into the deepest hole I can find and close the grate if my men see you walk past Belgrave Square again. With or without your little girl.”

Any mention of Grace banished fears for myself and awoke my anger. “If you touch her, Mr.Monaghan, you will understand what a mother’s wrath can be.”

His expression did not change. “Keep her home and safe, and you should have no worry for her.”

While he was right about that, damn the man, I knew that Monaghan could have Joanna and Sam and their entire family, including Grace, arrested on a false charge to make me behave. I hated that such a person had this kind of power.

“She will go nowhere near the entire area of Belgravia again,” I promised. “In fact, I will not let her past Regent Street until the case is concluded and Mr.McAdam is safely home.”

Monaghan did not comment on the fact that I hadn’t included myself in this restriction from Belgravia, but his eyes flickered, and his voice grew icier than ever.

“It might take some time. Months, or longer. McAdam will stay put and do my bidding until I say otherwise. These are dangerous people, and I will have them.”

I halted to face him. We were in Fleet Street, the bastion of the newspapers, and curious journalists could be swirling about us even now.

“Mr.McAdam has done enough for you. You keep at him and at him and will until he is dead, won’t you?

I am sorry your friend was killed in that incident years ago, but Mr.McAdam was not the only one involved in the catastrophe.

I believe you were there as well. Blame yourself, Mr.Monaghan, for your own shortcomings, and leave the rest of us be. ”

I heard myself say far too much, but the words wouldn’t cease once they welled up inside me.

Hot rage sparked in the man’s eyes, for once breaking his cold barrier.

“I have blamed myself, believe me,” he said in a hard voice.

“Many times. I used to be a very dangerous man, until I turned to the side of the law. And because of that, a man who was truly good died. Yes, McAdam will pay for it. He’ll pay for every ounce of pain, just as I have paid for it.

If McAdam is killed in that house, then justice will have been done. ”