Page 30 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

The deliberate misinterpretation ignited a flare of irritation in Leo’s chest.

“My interest is not of that nature,” he stated, his voice lowering. “I merely wish to speak with her regarding a mutual acquaintance.”

“As I said, she is no longer with us,” Reynolds repeated, his smile growing strained. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have other patrons requiring my attention.”

As the manager retreated, Adrian leaned closer to Leo. “That was illuminating, if not particularly helpful. Shall we leave, or do you intend to interrogate every maid in the establishment?”

Before Leo could respond, a young woman approached, her serving tray held with practiced ease, though her expression suggested purpose beyond mere hospitality.

“Might I bring you gentlemen some refreshments?” she suggested, her voice deliberately pitched low. “The house champagne is particularly fine this evening.”

“Brandy,” Leo replied, studying her with newfound interest. There was an intentionality to her approach that suggested more than routine service. “And perhaps some information regarding Anna Finley, if you’re so inclined.”

The young woman’s eyes widened momentarily before darting to the manager’s retreating figure.

“I know nothing about her,” she stated, yet her tone contradicted her words. “Will that be all, gentlemen?”

“A moment,” Leo said, casually placing several sovereigns on her tray, a sum far exceeding the cost of their drinks. “We mean Miss Finley no harm. Quite the opposite, in fact. My cousin’s welfare may depend on locating her.”

The woman hesitated, visibly torn between caution and the temptation represented by the coins gleaming on her tray.

“I can’t speak here,” she murmured finally. “Return in an hour. I take my break in the alley behind the kitchens.”

With that cryptic instruction, she rushed away, leaving Leo and Adrian to exchange significant glances across the table.

“Well played,” Adrian praised, leaning back in his chair with renewed interest. “But I must say, I’m increasingly curious about this mysterious Anna and her connection to your wayward cousin.”

“As am I,” Leo muttered grimly. “And I suspect our mutual curiosity is shared by others with less honorable intentions.”

The hour passed with excruciating slowness, the rhythmic shuffle of cards and clatter of dice providing an oddly soothing counterpoint to the tension in Leo’s chest.

When the appointed time arrived, they made their way discreetly through the kitchens and to the alley beyond, where the woman awaited, her slender form wrapped in a woolen shawl against the evening chill.

“Make it quick,” she urged, glancing nervously toward the kitchen door. “If Reynolds catches me speaking with you, I’ll lose more than my position.”

“Where is Anna Finley?” Leo asked without preamble.

“Gone,” the woman replied, her fingers twisting anxiously in the hem of her shawl. “Left suddenly, about a fortnight ago. Said she was being watched and that it wasn’t safe for her here anymore.”

“Did she mention where she was going?” Adrian inquired, his normally jovial tone replaced by uncharacteristic seriousness.

The woman hesitated, clearly weighing the risk of further disclosure against the substantial payment she had already received.

“She spoke of a cousin who lets rooms near the edge of town,” she admitted finally. “A widow named Mrs. Fairfax, I think. Lives on Crescent Street, past the old tannery.”

Leo committed the information to memory, his expression betraying nothing of the satisfaction he felt at this first solid lead. “Did she mention a gentleman named Philip?”

“Not by name,” the woman replied, her gaze darting back to the kitchen door. “But there was a gentleman she used to meet here. Handsome, well-spoken. Not the usual sort we get. She seemed more frightened for him than for herself.”

“One last question,” Leo pressed, sensing her growing anxiety. “Have you seen a Lord Westbury around this establishment lately?”

The effect of the name was immediate and alarming, for the woman’s face drained of color, her eyes widening with unmistakable fear.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t have said anything. Please, I must go.”

“Wait,” Leo called, reaching for her arm as she turned to flee. “What does Westbury?—”

But the woman had already wrenched herself from his grasp and disappeared into the kitchen with remarkable speed, leaving him and Adrian alone in the darkened alley.