Page 10 of Blackmailed (The Browns of Butcher’s Hill #2)

A small crowd had gathered now that the threat was eliminated.

The doorman knelt on the other side of Gordon, and he and Morehead helped the injured man to sit upright.

Phillip stood and drifted away from the crowd of men and heard Morehead tell someone to fetch a doctor.

A warning had been issued, it seemed, but from whom?

Virginia held the letter in her hand and read it for the third time.

Mrs. Estelle Homan, the current president of the Benevolent Society for Orphans, was telling her that she was no longer needed as a board member, as she’d served longer than the bylaws allowed.

What utter nonsense! She and a few others had written the bylaws several years ago when the organization was formed!

She knew exactly what was in them, although she had missed the two previous meetings, the first when she was too ill to venture out and the second when she’d been traveling with her father on the Continent.

Could they have changed the rules during the last meeting after Virginia had attended the Bernard ball and been overcome with a drug? They certainly could have.

“Mr. Pointer?” she said to the young man at the desk opposite of hers who handled her and her father’s personal correspondence and family matters as a secretary. “Did we receive any post from the Society for Orphans while I was traveling?”

“You may have,” he said and looked at her, his face reddening. “I still have a few items I’ve not gotten to. I’m very sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Mr. Pointer. I’m certain there was a significant amount of work for my father while we were gone.”

“There was, miss. I tried to prioritize what needed to be looked at immediately and what I could look at later.”

“If you can find anything from those items now from the society, I will take a look at them and lessen your pile,” she said.

Pointer pulled a folder from the corner of his desk and opened it. He picked out a letter “Here it is. I assumed it was the monthly record of minutes from the meeting.”

“I think that is exactly what it is,” she said as he handed it to her.

Virginia quickly scanned the three pages. A special vote had been held to amend the bylaws, holding board members to one two-year term if there were “indications or proof of immoral or unlawful behavior.” “When is the next board meeting scheduled?”

Pointer opened a book on his desk and flipped through several pages. “Two weeks from today, Miss Wiest.”

“Make sure my schedule is clear,” she said. “I don’t intend to miss it.”

“Yes, miss.”

Phillip went to the neighborhood stables and rented a small open-sided carriage for the afternoon, as well as a horse to pull it.

He was about as good at guiding a carriage as he was on horseback, which was saying little.

He’d dithered about just renting the horse and riding, but he thought the small carriage would be less conspicuous, although he did not believe Mrs. Everly would recognize him from the brief encounters they’d had over the years.

It was Thursday, and not long after noon, Phillip made his was across town to the Everly residence.

He pulled the horse to a stop several houses away from the Everlys’ and waited, glad it was not chilly, as he had no idea how long he’d be keeping the horse standing.

It was a quarter past the one o’clock hour when he looked at his pocket watch.

Mrs. Veto had said every Thursday at one o’clock.

And then he saw a hackney cab pull up in front of the house.

Jenkins, the Everly butler, opened the door and stepped out onto the bricked porch.

He glanced back in the house and straightened quickly as Mrs. Everly marched over the threshold and down the three steps to the street.

Jenkins hurried after her to open the door of the cab.

Mrs. Everly squeezed herself through the narrow door while Jenkins waited.

She was dressed completely in black, as he’d always seen her, but today she wore a heavy veil, making it impossible to recognize her.

Phillip waited until Jenkins was behind the closed front door and the cab pulled back onto the street.

He hawed his horse to move forward. He was careful not to get too close, especially in the quiet neighborhood they were in, but it was doubtful Mrs. Everly could see out the small filthy window at the back of the cab, especially with her veil over her eyes.

Once in the commerce area of the city, he watched the cab turn down an alleyway.

He pulled his carriage to the side and flipped a coin to a young boy.

“Here you go, boyo,” Phillip said. “Keep an eye on her, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said and pocketed the coin quickly. “She’s not a very pretty horse, is she?”

Phillip shook his head and grinned. “No, she’s not, but she’s rented for all that, and I don’t want to owe the stable master the cost of a horse and cart.”

The boy nodded, and Phillip turned to follow the cab down the alley.

He saw it several buildings ahead from where he stood under an overhang, Mrs. Everly squeezing herself out as she clutched the driver’s hand.

She then took her time opening her purse and retrieving a small dark pouch.

The driver was tapping his crop against his leg, impatient to be going, while she counted out the fare.

Phillip guessed there would be no extra for the driver.

The cab pulled away, and Phillip walked slowly as Mrs. Everly repositioned her purse and rang a bell beside an arched door set in a stone-and-brick wall.

The door opened, and Mrs. Everly looked in both directions before stepping through, the door closing quickly with the snick of a lock.

Phillip walked down the alleyway, stopping at the door Mrs. Everly had just gone through.

There was a copper plaque stained green with age mounted on the stone wall.

“Ladies’ Organization for the Benefit of Baltimore City” it read, with the date of 1825 below the name.

He’d never heard of such an organization and would not know who to ask about it.