The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4)

With a suspicious frown which looked to be a permanent expression, Fred shuffled away as if expecting to lose the soles of his shoes.

“So you have no need for my services now you’ve found her.” Joseph shovelled a forkful of pie into his mouth and washed it down with a swig of ale.

“There is something else I need you to do. I want you to find out everything you can about a Mr Hungerford.”

“Hungerford, you say? Shouldn’t be too difficult what with it being an unusual name.” Joseph wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you know where I can find him?”

“You’ll have his address tonight.” Vane decided he would venture to Whitecombe Street this evening, purely with the intention of spying. “His wife died recently, so I’m told.” Vane thought back to the night Estelle and the Erstwhiles stumbled upon him in the alley. They had not walked far. “I’d wager he lives somewhere in the vicinity of Longacre. Perhaps begin your search for his wife with the records at St Clement Danes. I imagine that’s the closest church.”

Joseph nodded. He withdrew a notebook and pencil and took down the information. “I’ll send the nod to Wickett when I find something of interest.”

Vane retrieved a few sovereigns from his pocket and slid them across the crude wooden table. “I’ll pay you ten pounds when you’ve found out what I need to know. And you can keep the money I gave you to find Miss Darcy.”

The runner grinned. “If only all fine folk were as generous. I’ll ask around the area, see if anyone knows him while I wait for his address. I’ve a man who can slip in and out of a house without the owner never knowing he was there.”

It was suddenly apparent why he no longer worked for Bow Street. Vane proceeded to give Joseph a description of his quarry, one that incorporated the words fop and coward.

“How soon do you want the information?” Joseph scratched his head with the end of the pencil. “It will help to know how many men to put on the job.”

“Find something of interest within the next twenty-four hours and I shall double your pay.”

The man’s eyes flashed with excitement. “By something of interest am I to take it you mean something shady?”

“Any information that might make a lady shun his company.”

Joseph took a swig of ale from his tankard. “Anything else you need me to do?”

Vane was about to say no, but another idea entered his head. “Do you still have a man in France, in Calais?”

Joseph nodded. “Like I said before, he ain’t cheap. And it won’t be a quick job for obvious reasons.”

“Do I look like a man who cares about money?” Vane paused. “The men I want him to track down are of a criminal element. I expect it will be dangerous.”

“Dangerous you say. Do I look like a man who cares about that?” Joseph narrowed his gaze. “Are we talking smugglers then?”

“Find out everything you can about Monsieur and Madame Bonnay from Wissant. The woman died four years ago, and they found the man dead in the woods not long after. I should like to know who took over the smuggling operation. Find out if they have any family.”

One of the smugglers had offered to marry Estelle, or so she’d said. Was that part of the reason she moved from place to place?

Vane pushed out of the chair and stood. “If you need to know anything else, send word to Wickett. Oh and have a man watch Lord Cornell’s house in Bedford Square. I would like to know where he goes and what he does.” Before Joseph could respond, Vane added, “I don’t care how many men it takes or what the cost.”

Joseph gave a curt nod. “At this rate, I’ll be able to afford a fancy carriage of my own.”

It was almost five o’clock when Vane returned to Berkeley Square. Bamfield greeted him at the door and with some reluctance informed him of the new arrival.

“His lordship is upstairs,” Bamfield said with m

ild indifference. If butlers were as honest as coachmen, he might have added making love to his wife. “Lady Farleigh desired a change of clothes after the long journey.”

The long journey? Everleigh was but twenty miles away.

Vane considered grabbing his hat and marching out of the door. Was this to be further punishment for his licentious past? Was he to spend a sleepless night listening to the sounds of true love knowing every encounter he’d ever had fell hopelessly short?

“I shall be in the drawing room for the time being. But ask Pierre to pack the necessaries. I intend to return to Hanover Square this evening.”

He could not avoid his home forever. But it was the lesser of two evils. He would rather be tormented by painful memories than sit and witness exaggerated displays of affection.

Bamfield’s expression remained impassive. “I shall convey your message at once, my lord. Might I ask if you will dine with Lord and Lady Farleigh this evening?”