Raven (Gentlemen of the Order 2)
“Or she wears green fronds in her hair,” Sophia added.
“She’s a nuisance, a veritable pest.”
“A pest and a wallflower?” Finlay mused. “How unconventional.”
“Matilda!” D’Angelo’s cry stole their attention. “Let down your golden hair so I may climb up and kiss those precious lips.” Their friend clutched his stomach and pretended to retch.
“You drunken fool. Try two doors down.” And with that, the man slammed the sash with such force he might have cracked a pane.
D’Angelo threw them a devilish grin and then moved toward Number 4. He’d taken but a few steps when the front door opened and a woman exited.
A few things struck Finlay as odd.
Yes, there was a nip in the air, though she was dressed as if she were part of an arctic expedition. The white muff was the size of a sheepdog. The red ermine-trimmed cloak would be better suited to a crisp winter’s day. And rarely did a woman of quality venture out alone at midnight.
D’Angelo approached her. The man was no fool. “Matilda!” He clasped his hands together, pleading for forgiveness. “Don’t leave, love. Give me one more chance.”
The woman shooed him away and quickened her pace. She hurried towards the mews, glanced over her shoulder to check if the drunken devil sauntered behind. At no point was she aware of the three people lingering in the darkness—not until she barged into them, the sudden impact stealing her breath.
Her terrified shriek rent the air.
“Hush. There’s nothing to fear.” Sophia’s voice was reassuringly low.
The woman flinched and stumbled, unwittingly grabbed hold of Sophia’s arm for support while gathering her wits. The blood drained from her face the moment they locked gazes.
“Maud?” Sophia gasped in disbelief.
So, Maud was the doctor’s companion in the coffeehouse. Things were all fitting nicely into place. Finlay doubted he would remember the maid were it not for her uncanny likeness to Jessica. The question plaguing him now was, what business did she have with Dr Goodwin?
Maud stood, stiff as a corpse, the mist
from her breathless pants being the only sign of life.
Finlay coughed into his fist, drawing the maid’s attention. “It seems you’re a little far from home, Maud. Did the hot climate not suit? Perhaps you’re ill and journeyed for months just to visit the good doctor.”
Maud surprised them all by throwing herself at Sophia and crying, “My lady, thank goodness it’s you. I’ve been terrified out of my wits. Oh, praise be.”
While Maud spoke with some eloquence now, her accent held traces of a provincial dialect, and her manner appeared rather coarse.
Sophia shrugged out of the maid’s embrace and stepped back. “What are you doing here, Maud?” Hostility tainted the words. After all, Maud was the reason Jessica had spent the last seven years in a drug-induced state. “Where is your husband? Where is Mr Archer?”
Maud blinked back tears. “Bartholomew? I wish I knew, my lady. The son of a devil is up to mischief, make no mistake. I’ve not seen him for almost ten months. But I fear he’s come to England to find Miss Draper.”
“What, and so you followed him here on a whim?” Finlay studied the agitated woman. Why risk the arduous journey when she only suspected her husband had come to England? No. Maud knew Archer was in town. And knew a damn sight more besides.
“Not on a whim.” Maud’s bright blue eyes brimmed with tears. “His friend, Mr Kamara, confessed to knowing my husband’s plan.”
“His plan to find Miss Draper?” Finlay pressed.
“Yes.”
“You’ve been staying with Dr Goodwin?”
The woman hesitated, yet the quick glance over her shoulder confirmed Finlay’s theory. “What are you doing out here at this ungodly hour?” Finlay asked.
Maud blinked rapidly. “Doing?”
“Why have you left the house?”