This Duchess of Mine(98)

“And what does your husband say to that?” Jemma asked.

“He says as how what he gives me is better than a gold wheel any day,” she said, giggling madly. “But here, even as you’re not a duke, you won’t want to find Stubbins until the market opens. He lives in a bad area. I don’t even go there unless I has to.”

“Where?” Jemma asked.

“Spitalfields. I can’t see the two of you there.”

“We were there less than a week ago,” Elijah said.

“Could you give us his direction? Does he live anywhere around Cacky Street?”

Her giggles stopped and she narrowed her eyes. “You’re missionary types, aren’t you? I know your sort. You’ll be trying to turn Stubbins into some sort of churchgoer and make him wear a hat and the rest of it.”

“That would make me a miracle worker, not a missionary,” Elijah pointed out.

“Well, at least you know that much.”

“We just want to find the doctor who uses Stubbins’s flowers for medicine,” Jemma said. “It’s terribly urgent, so could you please help us?”

“Stubbins lives in Wiggo Lane,” the woman said.

“You’ll find him there or behind the mews, most likely. That’s where he grows all his stuff. I think he even sleeps there sometimes.” She didn’t look like laughing now. “You’re from the Watch, aren’t you? You jist look like a duke, but you’re really the law.”

“No, not at all,” Jemma protested.

“You’re going to drag him off to the workhouse and it’ll be my fault. I wish I’d never told you.”

“I would never put Stubbins in the workhouse,” Elijah said mildly. “And I’ve nothing to do with the Watch. As it happens, I am a duke.”

“You never!”

Elijah gave her an extravagant bow. “The Duke of Beaumont, at your service, madam. I would take you away with me, but—”

“His gold wheels are just made of brass,” Jemma said, taking his arm.

“Oh my, and isn’t it just like a fairy tale,” the flower seller said. “The duke and duchess, and you loves each other, just like a tale, don’t you?”

Jemma felt her smile waver. “Yes, just like that.”

“And do ya have a carriage with gold wheels?”

“No. But I have a beautiful bride,” Elijah said promptly.



They found Wiggo Lane without a problem. It was one of the narrow channels that led off Cacky Street, not far from the glassworks. In the afternoon, Spitalfields looked utterly different than it had in the morning. People were sitting on stoops, and children were dashing everywhere, howling and shrieking with laughter. Laundry was hanging out to dry, nothwithstanding the fact that smoke billowed onto the clean cloth from cook fires in the street.

Finding Stubbins wasn’t as easy as finding the lane.

“He used to live here,” one man said, giving their footman an extremely unfriendly look. Most other people wouldn’t even answer, but just backed away or stared at the coach with grim dislike.

“This isn’t going to work,” Elijah said, watching James approach a man who looked as if he might knock the footman down before he gave out any information. He leaned forward and called, “We’ll go to Cow Cross, James!”

The door was unlocked, as usual, the hallway dim, and Knabby came toward them squinting. “It’s the duke again,” Elijah said, “with the duchess as well.”

Knabby was clearly surprised. “It’s a pleasure to have you again so soon! Everyone’s in the courtyard.” He turned around and started bustling away.

“We’re trying to find someone who lives in Spitalfields,” Elijah said, but Knabby was already through the door to the courtyard.

It wasn’t nearly as lively this afternoon. “Cully’s sleeping,” Knabby announced. “Sophisba’s husband took her away again, and Mrs. Nibble went to stay with her sister, as has a stomach ulcer.”

After greeting everyone in the circle, Elijah said, “We’re trying to find Ponder Stubbins, who lives in Spitalfields and raises flowers. Does anyone know him?”

There was a moment of silence. Then Waxy said, “’Course it is the duke.” But it was clearly a struggle between Spitalfields loyalty and glassworks loyalty.

“We don’t mean him any harm,” Jemma put in. “We only want to find a doctor who buys his flowers.”

“Oh,” Knabby said, sounding very relieved. “In that case, Stubbins is just around the corner. He lives somewhere, maybe on Wiggo? But he’s never there as his wife is a proper terror. He sleeps behind the mews in Fish Street.”