The Vanishing Thief(74)
“Did she say anything else about her uncle or the laboratory?”
“A few years ago, she tried to get into his laboratory. Out of boredom, I’d guess. She never was able to get the key away from him, and she never found another way in. She describes it as a fortress. She also complained he’s in a hurry to marry her off, but she wants another couple of seasons.”
“Money difficulties?” I guessed.
“Maybe. Or maybe he just wants the silly goose off his hands.”
I nodded and began to turn away when I remembered my news. “The Duke of Blackford was by today while you were gone. We’re to go tonight to Lady Westover’s after we close up to practice wearing our jewels for the ball. Our real jewels.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Is that wise?”
“The duke doesn’t think anyone will go after the jewels. And he doesn’t expect us to guard them.”
She looked at me, comprehension dawning. “He has something planned, and we’re the bait.”
“Better us than a real aristocrat.” I heard the grim tone in my voice.
“So, if someone will be after us for us and not for the jewels, who are we supposed to be? Surely not the staff of a bookshop or members of the Archivist Society.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “We’ll have to ask him tonight when we reach Lady Westover’s. While we walk around unarmed and wearing jewels, he’ll be armed to the teeth. He’s appearing as a highwayman.”
Emma nodded. “Appropriate.”
The shop bell rang, and from that moment we were both kept busy with customers until closing. I locked up the proceeds for the day while Emma straightened the shop and then stood waiting by the front door. I’d nearly reached her when she said, “Forgetting something?”
I’d pulled out copies of the newest novels that came in that day for Phyllida and left them in the office. She’d never forgive me if I left them behind, considering she thought of them as her special perk for living with two booksellers. “Thank you. Go on without me. Tell Phyllida I’ll be right behind you, but don’t tell her what I forgot.”
Emma nodded and left the shop. I went back into the office and hurriedly grabbed up the thin volumes of popular fiction featuring damsels in distress and brave heroes. Too hurriedly. I knocked a stack of papers on the floor. I piled them back on the desk, promising myself to organize them tomorrow.
Turning off the electric lights, I looked around the dim shop for a moment with a sigh of contentment. We’d made a little money, there’d been no disasters, and we may have made some progress on the Archivist Society investigation. Another successful day.
I stepped out of the shop, locked the door, and headed for the flat. The night was turning foggy, but it was still early enough to use our shortcut. I had just turned the corner and taken a few steps into the alley when a hand reached out and grabbed me.
I screamed and swung my umbrella. In a lucky stroke, I stabbed my attacker in the leg. With a roar, he struck with his fist, knocking me over. My ears rang and my hands stung from hitting the rough, filthy paving stones. He kicked me in the corset. I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Where’s Drake?”
I doubled up, gasping.
He grabbed me by the hair. “Where’s Drake?”
I tried to scream, but only whimpered.
“Hey! You!”
The grip on my hair loosened and I slumped to the ground as footsteps pounded down the alley.
“Miss. Are you all right?”
Hands lifted me up to a standing position and I found myself facing two young clerks. My hair was falling around my ears and my hat was trampled in the damp dirt of the alley, which also coated my clothes. The two men picked up my hat and the now-wrinkled books and handed them to me.
“Thank you.” I burst into tears, ruining what little dignity was left to me.
When the clerks helped me to the flat, Emma and Phyllida thanked them profusely and Phyllida gave them the apple pastry that she had made for our dessert. Despite my protests, I was undressed and ordered into a tub of hot water.
It didn’t take long for me to recover. My corset was tough enough to withstand any thug’s boot and he’d only struck glancing blows. Getting dressed again was another issue. Phyllida didn’t want us to go to Lady Westover’s, since my attacker was still out there.
Emma slipped her knife out. “Either we’ll be fine, or he won’t be. Besides, I want to try on those jewels.”
Phyllida threw her hands in the air and went to dish up dinner while Emma helped me dress. I was glad we weren’t trying on our ball gowns that night, since I didn’t want the stays on my corset pulled too tightly against my ribs and a bruise was forming under my left eye.