The Vanishing Thief(51)

I hated to ask, but I needed to know. “How did you end up in prison in place of Drake?”

“When I saw they had all the evidence they needed to put him in jail for many years, I confessed to the crime. I threw myself on their mercy. Since I was young and lived a blameless life and my parents were well thought of by the duke, they gave me a short sentence. When I got out, I followed Nicholas to London.”

“Was it Drake’s idea that you confess?”

“No.” Her chin rose. “It was all my own.”

I wondered if Drake knew, or cared, how loyal his wife was. “Do you have any idea where he might be hiding if he’s escaped from his attackers?”

She shook her head as her shoulders slumped and a sigh escaped her lips. “He couldn’t have.”

“There’s always the chance he did. He might have fought his way free. Where should we look?”

She stared silently at me for a long time. Then she shrugged and said, “He never could have taken them in a fair fight, but he could have outsmarted them and escaped. If he’s not hiding with Harry or Tom, he might be at his house in Hounslow.”

This was news. I forced myself not to sit forward, eager to hear what she had to say. “What house in Hounslow?”

“It’s a farmhouse outside of town on the Hanworth Road. He rents the land to a nearby farmer. The house is vacant except when he goes there.”

I was excited by the possibility, but I didn’t want to raise Anne Drake’s hopes. She gave me directions to the farmhouse and swore me to secrecy.

That wasn’t a problem. I wouldn’t tell anyone outside the Archivist Society, and while there might be a chance Drake had escaped his captors, it wasn’t a good one.

I rode back into the center of London, looking out the bus windows at our first springlike day. Perhaps the weather would bring my parents’ killer out of doors, and the only place I knew to look was Hyde Park Place. I should meet Sir Broderick’s mysterious letter writer at two that afternoon, but I had time.

I climbed off the omnibus as we neared where I’d seen the man before and walked slowly as I glanced at the faces of every male I passed. No luck. After a half hour spent searching, I knew it was time to go to Lady Westover’s to obtain the signal the letter writer would look for.

When I told her what I wanted, Lady Westover laughed. “You don’t need my greenhouse for that. My back garden will provide you a handful of daffodils.”

“I only need one.”

“Can you stay for luncheon? It’s only a cold plate, I’m afraid, but the tea will be hot.”

I accepted, and we moved into her morning room, where a maid brought tea, sandwiches, and cakes.

When we were alone again, Lady Westover said, “Are you making progress with your investigation?”

I had no problem telling my elderly hostess all we’d uncovered. Part of her role with the Archivist Society was to pass information to her grandson. Inspector Grantham, never happy with his grandmother’s enthusiasm for assisting us, would demand to know every detail the moment he learned I’d been to visit. “I’ve eliminated the Naylards from the list of people wanting to kidnap Nicholas Drake. We’ve also learned Drake’s next-door neighbor is his wife.”

“How bizarre. From what you told me, he sounded so happy to be a bachelor, but you can’t always believe what men say in that regard. I’ve long suspected men want wives more than women want husbands.”

I looked at Lady Westover, wondering if I dared ask about the late Lord Westover.

She took one glance at my expression and didn’t give me a chance. “When you marry, you’ll learn what I mean. Now, tell me about this wife of Drake’s.”

After I finished giving her a few details, she asked, “Why this interest in my daffodils?”

I told her about the letter to Sir Broderick and the instruction to wear a daffodil in my hair.

“Portman Square? That’s where the Mervilles live. I wonder . . .”

The thoughtful expression on her face made me ask, “What about the Mervilles?”





Chapter Eleven





“YOU asked me about what could have happened to the Mervilles ten years ago, Georgia. I don’t think this was more than four or five years ago, but Lady Merville was quite ill. She didn’t come up to London for the season. The duke came up and brought all four children with him. Only the older two children were out in society. But as I said, this was much more recent.” Lady Westover took a sip of her tea.

“You’re certain?”

“It seems like only last season. Time speeds by so fast when you’re my age, and then you discover events happened further in the past than seems possible. No, I’m not certain.” Her thoughts appeared to wander into the past.