Daphne gripped his arm tight. Perhaps it was the anticipation of what their investigation would bring that forced his blood to pump rapidly. Perhaps it was being so close to the only woman who’d ever captured his interest that caused the molten heat to burn inside.

“People will assume we’re lovers.”

“Good,” he snapped as they strode past labourers, watermen and a host of other poor beings who made their living providing services for seafaring folk. “Then it will save me the trouble of beating the life out of every man who dares look your way.”

She squeezed his arm affectionately. He contemplated scooping her up and taking her far away from the fog-drenched streets of the city. To a place surrounded by lush green fields, to a house he owned but never wanted to live in.

“I’ve heard professional thieves prey on drunken sailors in this area,” she whispered. “Do you think Thomas fell foul to such men? Do you think that is how he ended up in the Thames?”

“His pocket watch was missing when they found him, but it could have fallen into the water, been stolen by the men who pulled him from the river.” Guesswork often led to wasted time and false trails when emotions governed one's thoughts. “In this case, speculation only serves to detract from all potential leads. We must wait until the facts are presented. We must remain impartial.”

“You’re right.”

As they continued along the alley, they came across a man wearing a brightly coloured turban standing amid an assortment of wooden cages. Each one contained an exotic bird: a red parrot with green-tipped feathers, a yellow canary, another with a purple body and white head.

Daphne pulled him closer to study the rare birds. “Oh, Daniel, look. Isn’t this one the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

She was the only thing to steal his breath.

“Don’t touch the cage. Like most things around here, they’re far more dangerous than they look.” The bird squawked and nipped at the bars simply to prove that Daniel’s cynical opinion was rarely wrong.

As they moved past the rope and sail-makers, the smell of tar dissipated only to be replaced by the bittersweet scent of ale. From the raucous sounds spilling out into the dank alley, it was evident they were approaching The Mariners. The tavern was a place where one needed a strong constitution to enter let alone consume a beverage. With not a single brass-buttoned jacket in sight, it was home to those who wished to express their opinion freely after months spent cooped up at sea. Where the downtrodden used drink to forget about their miserable lives. After a few mugs of ale or gin, a man could be anyone he wanted to be. Come the morning, the stark reality only served to send him back to begin the process all over again.

Daniel held Daphne’s hand tight to his arm and sauntered past the drunkards who’d taken their merriment out onto the street.

“But I thought we were going to The Mariners?” Daphne glanced back over her shoulder. “I thought we were looking for the woman Thomas met? Although despite what the Turners told you, I doubt she’ll still be hanging around the place after all this time.”

“Don’t stare,” Daniel snapped. “Look straight ahead.” In this part of town, it took nothing more than a glance in the wrong direction to bring trouble to one’s door. “After downing copious amounts of alcohol, these people are easily offended.”

“Where are we going?” She quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides.

“To the ship chandler.”

“Why, are you in need of twine, rope and a box of tallow candles?” A chuckle escaped from her lips.

“It was something the Turners said — a covert nod in the right direction.” Why point him to the chandler if it wasn’t relevant to the case. “Nothing about Lily makes sense. If she waits for the Carron to reunite with a lover or husband why was she interested in Thomas? If she’s involved in smuggling, there are safer places than the London docks to conduct business. Perhaps she supplies goods to those aboard.”

“Or information,” Daphne added. “Thomas made regular trips to France though said he’d taken work as a translator for a cloth merchant wishing to expand his business.”

Thomas had mentioned nothing about his work.

“I was aware his father left the estate with mounting debts.” Daniel had dragged the details from his friend after a few glasses of brandy. “That he had to sell the family home and buy a smaller house in London. But I had no idea he needed to work to cover expenses.”

“Buy a house?” Daphne gave a chuckle of contempt. “We were left practically penniless once the debts were paid. We didn’t buy the townhouse. We rented it. Thomas obsessed over rebuilding his fortune and took paid work to supplement our small income.”

Daniel didn’t know what to say. Pride had forced his friend to manipulate the truth. “I would have offered assistance had I known you were in financial difficulty.”

“The life of an enquiry agent is hard, I should know. I barely earn enough to cover my expenses. Heaven only knows how you afford to keep a carriage in town. Perhaps you charge an extortionate fee for your services.”

The lady had no idea as to the extent of his wealth. No idea that he could have given her the life she’d dreamed of if only she’d given him a chance. She had no idea who he was. “And perhaps you’re undercharging for yours. You should consider increasing your fee.”

“Betsy’s said that numerous times. But few people are willing to hire a woman to do a man’s work. My price reflects what people deem a disadvantage.” She halted and nodded to the small shop with ropes and lanterns hanging from nails on a wooden sign. “Despite the late hour, it seems the shop is still open.”

“Places like this rarely close.”

“And you think we’ll find Lily here?”

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know. The only way to find out is to ask.”

Tags: Adele Clee Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net