“That’s what I hoped you’d say.” The pretty brother exhaled, his sickly sweet breath evidence of a liking for strong spirits. “Now as Jim doesn’t know where this Lily lives, you’ve no choice but to watch The Mariners. Jim’ll give you the nod when he sees her, but we swore there’d be no trouble. See as you keep to our bargain.”
“Yo
u have my word.” Daniel stepped back and inclined his head. To linger would be a mistake. “Thank you. Allow me to wish you both a pleasant evening.”
“I expect it will be pleasant as long as you keep your head,” the pretty brother said. “I’ll escort you to the door. Wouldn’t want you to have an accident on the premises.” The scrawny guard stepped aside to let them pass.
As they reached the door, Turner tapped him on the arm. “You know the Carron picks up supplies from the chandler whenever she docks. Always interesting stuff to be found there.”
All ships restocked their supplies once they reached port. The fact he mentioned the obvious made it a point of interest. As did the fact he mentioned it out of earshot of his brother.
“I hear some of them shops have rooms to rent,” Turner continued.
“Then I’ll bear it in mind when I visit the docks.”
“Bear it in mind should you ever have to choose a favourite brother.” Turner gave a toothless grin, turned on his heels and marched back to his corner.
Once outside, Daniel sucked in a breath for the thick smoke still clung to his throat. Rapid blinking was the only way to soothe his dry eyes. Squinting in the gloom, he noted Murphy parked a little further along the street.
Turner’s words echoed in his ears as he strode along the pavement. So Lily rented a room above the ship chandler. It would be a damn sight easier to apprehend her there than at the docks. The visit to the Turners had proved productive and saved them hours of work.
Yet one pressing problem remained. How would he tell Daphne that her husband sought more than cheap ale on his visits to The Mariners Tavern?
Chapter 10
The news that the Turners had provided the information necessary to proceed with their investigation — and so there was no need to interrogate the landlord of The Mariners — brought a pang of disappointment.
Daphne sighed
Not that she wanted to sneak around the filthy docks at night, or jostle with drunken sailors. But the need to discover the truth surrounding Thomas’ death burned in her chest, now more than ever.
Since leaving The Compass Inn, Thorpe had said little, other than insist they all return to the modiste shop despite the late hour. Shoulders hunched, he stared out of the carriage window, tugging and reshaping his beard while contemplating heaven knows what. When they reached New Bond Street, he hung back in the shadows and scoured the street with keen eyes before following her into the house.
Perhaps he’d discovered something unsavoury and had important information to impart but required privacy to do so.
Perhaps the near fatal accident with the cart in Covent Garden — an event Daphne banished from her mind every time the memory surfaced — gave him serious cause for concern and so he planned to act as her chaperone, planned to stay the night.
The muscles in her core pulsed at the thought of seeing his huge frame sprawled in her bed. Daphne shook her head. Why on earth had she pictured such a thing? Why had her body reacted instantly?
Three years spent alone had taken its toll. But, truth be told, Daphne had been lonely long before that. Her father’s death left a hole in her heart that Thomas failed to fill. A marriage needed more than respect and friendship to satisfy on a deeper level. Consequently, the physical aspects proved awkward, unfulfilling.
So why did she feel a spark of desire in Mr Thorpe’s company? Was their relationship not based on respect and friendship too?
A growl emanated from Thorpe’s stomach as he removed his greatcoat and hung it on the coat stand next to the parlour door.
“Heavens, you’ve not eaten all day,” Daphne said, grateful for the distraction. They had been so preoccupied with gathering information they’d not considered food. “Well, you’ve had nothing during the time we’ve been together.”
“I find I have no appetite when working.”
Mr Bostock tutted. “It's important to keep up your strength. A man can’t think straight when he’s hungry.”
Thorpe snorted. “It’s not as though those eager for revenge will lure me into a dark alley with the promise of a meat pie.”
The mere mention of food roused a grumble from Daphne’s stomach too. “Betsy usually leaves something for me in the kitchen if I’ve been working late.” Indeed, the delicious smell of cooked root vegetables wafted up from downstairs. “I’m sure there’ll be enough for us all.”
“There’s no need to feed me, Mrs Chambers,” Mr Bostock said. “I’ve already eaten. The Cock serves the tastiest beef stew and dumplings for miles around.”
Judging by the width of the man’s neck, it looked as though he’d swallowed a whole hock of beef.