Page 23 of A Silence in Belgrave Square (Below Stairs #8)

The paper contained no further information. I turned it over, but the back was blank.

“It is a place,” I informed the boy. “But not a time.”

He sent me an aggrieved look. “She said Thursday, soon as it opens.”

I held out a bright copper coin but let it hover over his waiting palm. “What’s your name, lad?”

He hesitated a beat too long. “Adam.”

If he had to think about it, then he made up the name. “Would you like a cruller?” I asked him.

“No.” Adam all but snatched the coin from me and disappeared up the stairs and into the darkness.

I shook my head as I closed the door. Hannah trusted the lad, which meant I should, but I worried about him.

“Wait, missus.” A voice called to me from the outer stairs, a different one, belonging to another boy.

I swung the door open again to find Albie, his countenance far more cheerful than young Adam’s.

“I come for another fivepence,” he announced.

“Have you now?” I studied him sternly.

“I have. Been watching that bloke you told me to—Lord Pelsham—for a time.” Lord Pelsham was the friend of Lord Peyton’s that Hannah mentioned visited often. “His grooms are not so nice as the Lofthouses’, and he’s just returned from Ireland.”

“Has he?” My severity lessened. “That is interesting.”

“He didn’t have the best time of it, from what I could tell,” Albie went on.

“Railing about how dreadful it all was. How his tenants there were sullen and nasty, and how he couldn’t get shot of the place quick enough.

Then Lord Pelsham climbs into his coach and rolls off to Belgrave Square, probably to complain about it more to his mate there. ”

Very observant of the lad. “You have done well, Albie. Your fivepence and, if you’ll wait a moment, a cruller.”

Albie took the coins I handed him, instantly dropped them into his pocket, and touched his hat. “Won’t say no to that.”

I went through the kitchen to the larder and the plate of fresh crullers I’d left for the staff.

I wrapped one in an old but clean cloth and returned to Albie, who lounged against the doorframe.

He grinned as he took the pastry, said good-bye around me to Elsie in the scullery, and dashed upstairs.

The cloth fluttered back down to me as the cruller went straight into the lad’s mouth.

As I retrieved the rag and carried it to the laundry, I mused over the difference between the two boys, who were of an age. Adam—or whatever his name might be—clearly hungry and dirty, who wouldn’t take my food, and Albie, already an able earner of coins, happily devouring whatever I offered.

I’d have to tempt Adam next time I saw him. He didn’t need to be so thin and bleak.

* * *

The next morning, Tuesday, Tess returned from her sojourn to the market, her face pinched. She said nothing as she sorted the produce, but she worked with bangs and slams.

“Please do not bruise that cabbage,” I said sternly. “We’ll have to throw half of it away.”

“Sorry, Mrs.H.” Tess dropped the dusty carrots from her hands and sat down hard on a chair. “I have much on me mind.”

“Yes?” I took over the sorting, gently placing carrots, cabbage, brussels sprouts, and more spring asparagus into boxes I’d brought out for the purpose. “Tell me what it is, and we can work through it together. Is your brother all right?”

“Tommy’s well, thank you. It’s Caleb what’s upsetting me.”

I paused, asparagus stalks dangling from my hand. “Oh dear. He hasn’t given you the push, has he? Or did you him?”

“No, nothing like that,” Tess said quickly. “Only, Caleb has been promoted, you see. He’s been made a detective.”

I blinked at her. “Has he, the dear boy? That’s good news, is it not?”

“So I thought.” Tess looked mournful. “But he won’t be walking his beat anymore, will he?

I won’t see him stroll by so I can go out and have a chat.

” Tears welled in her eyes, which she blinked resolutely away.

“He’s not sure what his day out will be, if he has one, so it might not be the same as mine.

Add to that, he won’t talk about what he’s going to do.

Might be writing reports on a typing machine, for all I know.

I asked him, and he came over all quiet.

Wouldn’t say much of anything on the rest of our walk home. ”

I laid down the asparagus and patted her shoulder in sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Tess. It’s hard to be sweet on a policeman.

Well I know this. It might be difficult for the moment, but when Caleb is in a routine, and you know when you’ll see him, things will be easier.

And he’ll have better pay now, won’t he? ”

“Yeah, he’s chuffed about a rise. But I feel like it’s taking him away from me.” Tess’s face was so downcast my heart squeezed.

“It will feel like that sometimes, yes. The best thing we can do is be kind to our blokes while they’re answering to their bosses, and be there for them when they need to take their minds off their troubles. Chasing criminals is a difficult business.”

Tess sent me a grateful glance, but her eyes held a wry sparkle. “Is that why you scold Mr.McAdam about staying away long stretches and not sending word?”

I flushed. “Daniel expects me to scold him.” I longed for him to be here so I could.

Tess’s face fell again. “Mr.McAdam does come around almost every day when he can. Caleb won’t be able to.”

I had no answer for that, so I patted her shoulder once more. “If your day out needs to change, I’ll make certain there is no objection.”

“Even if it’s Thursday?” Tess asked.

I hid a wince. “The time I spend with Grace is important, not which day it is. You’ll go even on a Thursday. I’ll change too if I have to.”

Tess relaxed. “You’re that good to me, Mrs.Holloway.”

I knew when she used my full surname that she truly was grateful. I returned to the produce.

“At the moment, neither of us has a day out,” I reminded her. “We must get on with the master’s dinner.”

“Right you are, Mrs.H.”

As I resumed sorting and deciding how I’d use each vegetable, I pondered Caleb’s news.

Would he work for someone sensible, like Inspector McGregor, or had Monaghan somehow seized hold of the lad? Caleb, a good-humored young man, never hesitated to talk about his work, within reason, of course. His sudden reticence plucked at my suspicions.

Likely Caleb simply didn’t know what to tell Tess, because this was all new to him. Even so, I remained uneasy, and Tess was unnaturally quiet as we turned our hands to cooking.

* * *

Thursday morning, I left the house as soon as I could, determined not to let anyone—Mrs.Bywater with a last-minute request, Cynthia abducting me to pump me for information, or the multitude of spies following me—keep me from my time with Grace.

Hannah had requested a meeting in Leicester Square as soon as the pubs opened, which meant early afternoon. I could hardly take my daughter with me, so I explained to Grace and Joanna once I reached their house that I had to run an errand.

They both were surprised, as I never disappeared during my visits, but when I explained it had to do with Daniel, they rather shooed me on my way.

I took a circuitous route to keep off any pursuers, sticking to the areas of Fleet Street and the Strand.

To come at Leicester Square from the north would mean cutting through the warrens of St. Giles and Seven Dials, which held far more potential danger than the most violent anarchists could imagine.

Hannah hadn’t specified which pub in Leicester Square, but I chose the one that had opened earliest. If she wasn’t there, I’d look in the others until I found her.

This public house lay on the north side of the square, its taproom already full of local men, who’d come in for luncheon and a pint. Ladies were allowed only in the snug, a small room down a corridor from the front door. This suited me for a clandestine meeting, and I made my way there.

The only person in the snug at the moment was an elderly woman swathed in a dark shawl, who stared in distaste at a cup of tea on the table before her. Her body odor was a bit unfortunate.

I moved to the other side of the room and sat at the table farthest from her, on a bench that ran the length of the back wall. A silent barmaid appeared, and I asked for a cup of tea. She gave me a sour look but nodded and turned to depart.

“?’Ere,” the old woman said as she passed. “Can’t see your way to putting a drop of gin in this, can ye?”

“We don’t have no gin, ma’am,” the barmaid said impatiently. “I already told ya. It’s ale or nothing in this place.”

“I’ll have a pint, then.”

“I’ll see your coin first.”

The old woman snarled and waved the barmaid off with a stubby hand. The barmaid retreated so hastily that I hoped she’d remember to return with my tea.

“Ale’s like piss,” the woman informed me, hunching over her cup again. “Not worth it, mark my words.”

“I am having tea,” I assured her.

“Ain’t much better.”

She lifted her head, her gray hair scraggly about her face, and shot me a grin full of crooked teeth.

At this moment, the barmaid did return with a pot of tea and a cracked cup, which she more or less slammed onto my table. I slid a coin across the tabletop for her, which she instantly snatched up. She ran out, resolutely not looking at the old woman.

I carefully poured myself some tea. “Come over here, dear,” I told the other woman. “It’s warmer on this side.”

She heaved herself up, lifted her cup and saucer, and hobbled across the room to my table, where she plunked herself down opposite me and helped herself to hot tea from my pot.

“I will have to meet your wigmaker,” I said in a quiet voice. “She does wonderful work.”

“She does,” Hannah answered as softly. “But can’t have the proper maid from my fine house be seen talking to you, can we? Or even sitting in a pub like this one.”

“Are you well?” I asked anxiously. “I do not like the fact that someone in that house was murdered. It might have been a chance meeting with robbers on a street—”

“No.” Hannah interrupted me. “They killed him. Depend upon it. Viscount Peyton ordered that murder, and it was done for him.”