Daisy gave a weak smile in reply. Her gaze darted as if she were looking for an escape from her hostess.
“You lost both your parents at a young age?” I asked. I had been seventeen when both of my parents were murdered. I understood her loss.
“My eleventh birthday. I was allowed to eat with my parents in the big dining room, and by the next day, both of them were dead.”
“What happened to them?”
“Typhoid. Bad seafood. Something they ate. I don’t know. I didn’t like the strange foods served at adult dinners and refused to touch most of the dishes. I still don’t eat seafood or spinach or asparagus.” Daisy looked past me and smiled brightly.
The duke’s voice came over my shoulder. “Lady Westover, I enjoyed dinner immensely. It’s always good to see my mother’s close friends. Please invite me anytime you have your charming family members visit.”
I turned and caught his eye. After he nodded to me, he gave me a searching look. He knew our story was a lie. At least he didn’t give me away.
We struggled to keep up a conversation for the rest of the half hour society dictated we should enjoy our coffee after the meal. I found myself between Lord Hancock and Lord Naylard while trying to think of something that would lead the conversation toward Drake and his disappearance. All I came up with was, “I’d love to tour your laboratory sometime, Lord Hancock. Your work on behalf of our soldiers sounds interesting.”
“I don’t give tours of my laboratory. It’s not a museum,” he said, glaring at me. At least he showed no sign of recognizing me from the meeting in Sir Broderick’s study.
“He won’t show his lab to potential investors,” Lord Naylard said.
“Of course not. Creating chemical compounds requires careful measurements and undivided attention. I consider that room to be mine alone. I never let anyone in my laboratory. Not Daisy. Not the servants. Not visitors.”
Daisy joined us and said, “After my parents died, I spent a lot of time trying to get into the laboratory. A challenge, I suppose. He keeps the keys to the doors on a chain on his waistcoat pocket, and all the windows have bars over them. I never found a way in.”
I heard her stress the word “I.” “Never?”
She shook her head.
“Never. I never let anyone in.” Hancock caught Daisy’s eye and she looked down quickly. “We must be going. Thank you, Lady Westover,” Lord Hancock said as he took his niece’s arm. The Naylards and the duke also said good-bye.
Lady Westover and I went to the entry hall to see the visitors off. Once the door was shut behind them, Lady Westover said, “Was the evening successful?”
“Yes, even though I ended the night with more questions than answers. Do you remember anything unusual about the Duke of Merville or his family ten or so years ago?”
“Merville? Nothing comes to mind. They’ve always been a bit dry and ordinary. Especially for a duke’s family.”
“And I thought you weren’t in touch with Hancock. That was clever of you to invite them.”
“I’m not. I loved her mother, but I’ve never cared for Daisy or the current Lord Hancock. I suppose I should have tried harder.” Lady Westover grimaced. “At least they accepted my invitation for tonight.”
“Tonight was very helpful. And enjoyable.” I squeezed her hand.
“Shall I see you soon?”
“I hope so. I always enjoy my time spent with you. Especially when the man sitting next to me at dinner didn’t give away my true identity.”
Lady Westover stopped, one foot on the step. “Good. I’m aware Blackford knows you from the Archivist Society, but your place at table couldn’t be helped, my dear. You had to sit next to him because of the order of precedence. Silly square table.”
“I’ll check to make certain your guests have left and then I’ll go.”
“Good night, child.”
There were no carriages in view from the dining room window. I took my cloak and hat from the ancient butler and slipped out the front door. The street was still and empty, but I could hear the clop of horse hooves not far away. I’d catch a hansom cab on the main road.
Before I reached the corner, I had to pass the alley leading to the mews behind Lady Westover’s house. I heard a scrape before I saw two men move out of the shadows. They grabbed for me. Dressed in evening wear and outnumbered two to one, I could do little more than strike at them and scream.
They tried to pull me into the alley, but a hard stomp on a foot and a bite on a hand let me escape to dash toward the street, holding up the fabric of my ripped skirt. A carriage pulled up, the horses reined in before I collided with them. The Duke of Blackford jumped out. My savior, or reinforcements for my attackers?