In some respects, Mr Reynolds’ crime paled in comparison. Daphne would rather her stalker stole something, emptied drawers, knocked over chairs and cupboards. To do nothing, to touch nothing, proved far more troubling.
“What is it?” Thorpe swivelled to face her, their legs brushing together in the process. As always, his instincts were in tune with her thoughts.
“Nothing.” She shook her head too many times — a sure sign that her words and actions were not aligned.
Thorpe looked into her eyes, stared deep into her soul. “It’s so hot in here one can hardly breathe, and so I imagine your sudden shiver stems from feelings of apprehension.”
“Apprehension?”
“Now that we’ve solved two very simple cases, we are free to find your mysterious intruder.”
If only it were that easy. Like the last wisps of cigar smoke disappearing from a room, the fellow left nothing behind but an odd lingering smell.
“Where will we start?”
“We’ll start by taking you home so you may bathe after your ordeal in Covent Garden. I shall send word to Bostock as he will be your escort when you need to run errands in town.”
“Is that because you will be otherwise engaged?” She had taken up far too much of his time already. It was foolish to think he would act as chaperone as well.
“I will visit The Mariners Tavern. By all accounts, it is the last place Thomas was seen alive.”
“So you do think my mysterious visitor is involved in Thomas’ death?” Her eagerness for answers was evident in her voice.
“The timing cannot be a coincidence.”
In spite of Mr Thorpe’s fearless heart and robust countenance, a sense of foreboding settled over her. “Then take Bostock with you if you’re going to the docks,” she said knowing Thorpe’s companion had fists as hard as mallets. “Indeed, perhaps it is best I come too.” An hour spent waiting for him to return would feel like a lifetime.
Thorpe gritted his teeth. “Have you ever been to a dockside tavern? The only women welcome are those who sell their souls for a penny.”
Most places where men drank to excess posed a danger to women, but for some reason, Daphne couldn’t cope with the thought of Thorpe going alone.
“I’m familiar with the docks if you remember,” Daphne said. “I was the one who lured the guard to the shed so you could punch him on the nose.”
Thorpe raised a disapproving brow. “And God only knows what would have happened if I’d not arrived when I did.”
“The situation was under control.”
“Was it? I recall the guard’s wandering hands may have been a problem.”
“Must we go round in circles?” she snapped. “Must I boast of my ability to protect myself while you attempt to prove me wrong?”
“I would not advise any further discussion on the matter else you might be inclined to demonstrate your skill in persuasion.”
“My skill in persuasion?” Oh, he was referring to the kiss. Daphne bit down on her lip for the idea of securing his submission was deliciously tempting. “Have no fear, Mr Thorpe. I would not be so presumptuous as to ride roughshod over your delicate sensibilities again.”
A sinful smile touched his lips. “Madam, you may ride roughshod over me whenever you please.”
Chapter 9
“Get out of the blasted road before I run yer man down.” Murphy’s cries were accompanied by a violent jolt as the carriage ground to a halt.
During the day, the streets around the London Dock teamed with industrious workers going diligently about their business. At night, those with a penchant for vice littered the dirty thoroughfares scouting for a different class of patron entirely. Amid the bustle of drunken revellers, many of them sailors returned to port, half-naked women wandered the grim streets selling their wares.
“Heavens, that woman will catch her death in this weather.” Daphne frowned as a buxom wench with breasts bursting from her flimsy gown tapped the window and winked. “Her skin has a mottled, bluish tint. Can she not afford a shawl?”
Daniel smiled to himself. Was Daphne that naive? “Would you buy an apple from a market seller without seeing the produce?”
Daphne shook her head. “A shawl can be removed. I imagine one can use it rather inventively. Would a flash here and there not prove more tempting?”