The Vanishing Thief(50)
I waited for what came next.
“I love him, but I want the respect due a married woman.”
I kept silent, knowing she had more to say.
She paced quickly around the room, finally coming to rest behind a chair where she glared at me. “Don’t look at me with that judgmental scowl.”
“You said you were finished with scandals.”
“I am.” Her shoulders slumped. “Or I was until I moved down here, and Nicholas refused to admit to anyone that he had a wife. It was his idea that I live next door.”
“Because he couldn’t play the descendant of French royalty, the single gentleman, if he had a wife from Northumberland who wanted to live an honest life.”
“You learned about my time in prison for theft?”
I nodded.
“Thank you for not throwing it in my face.”
“I suspect you confessed to save Drake.”
“Yes. How foolish could I be? But he promised to be waiting for me to start life over again where we weren’t known.”
“This wasn’t what you had in mind. Why use your sister’s name, Anne?”
“Edith doesn’t have a police record.”
“Does Mr. Drake?”
“No. Not really. Not much of one. I saw to that.”
“Where is Drake now?”
“I don’t know.”
I was tired of playing games. I raised my voice. If Nicholas Drake was in the house and had any feelings for his wife, he’d appear. “Don’t give me that. He’s your husband. You know where he is.”
“No.”
Louder. “You’ve always known where he was. Even when you were in prison.”
She yelled back at me. “No. That’s why I came to you. To the Archivist Society. I want him returned to me alive and well.”
“I don’t believe you. You know where he is.” I was shouting now.
“No, I don’t. If I did, I would go there myself and get him.” With the tears running down her cheeks and a fiery gleam in her eyes, she showed every sign of being ready to cross hell to bring him home.
I lowered my voice. “I believe you would. So believe me when I say we will find him, just as we found out your secrets.”
Her plain face became beautiful as she smiled. “Thank you.”
“Tell me what really happened the night you said Nicholas Drake was abducted.”
“Sit down. Please.”
We sat across from each other in front of an unlit fire on matching balloon chairs with red brocade seats. Anne Drake, or Edith Carter as I kept thinking of her, studied her hands for a moment. “Nicholas said he’d stay at his house that night because he’d be returning late from dinner with a lord and didn’t want to disturb me.”
“What lord?”
“I don’t know. I don’t sleep well when he’s not here, and when I heard the carriage outside, I thought he was returning. By the time I rose and looked out the window, I only saw one man leave the open carriage door. That man was definitely not Nicholas. The driver stayed up in his box.”
She rose and began to pace again. “I wondered if I should go down and ask what was going on, but Nicholas was always very strict about my staying out of his business arrangements. So I waited. After five minutes or so, two men came out carrying a third. I’m certain the third man was Nicholas.”
“How certain?”
“As certain as I am those men worked for the Duke of Blackford, even if the coach was an ordinary hired hack. I told you the story about his antique carriage showing up on our street so you’d question him. I know he’s behind this.”
Her description matched that of the woman with the fussy baby across the street, but I needed to know more about Drake if we were to find him. “Tell me how you met Mr. Drake.”
“We both come from the village of Blackford in Northumberland, so we’ve known each other all our lives. Nicholas was orphaned young and went to work in the duke’s stables at age eight. He had a quick mind and big dreams, and he employed them to get an education and advancement to footman. That’s where he learned how society behaved and entertained and hid their secrets.”
She twisted her fingers as she continued. “The family brought him to London one season to help in the town house. He came back with more knowledge of society and a desire to escape to London. I was working in the castle as a nursery maid then, although I was not much older than Lady Margaret. Nicholas and I married. He began to steal things, little things they’d never miss, to fund our start in London.”
“And he continued stealing in London.”
“Did he? I don’t know. I went to prison and he moved here.” She couldn’t hold my gaze. Guilt over spending time in prison or guilty knowledge of Drake’s continued thefts?