the windows. A young footman opened the door and gazed haughtily down at me. I handed the impudent lad my card, upon which I'd scribbled that I'd come on behalf of Mr. Summerville.
The footman departed, closing the door in my face. He returned a short time after that, let me into the house, and commanded me to follow him.
He led me up a polished staircase to a back sitting room that overlooked a narrow garden. A cheerful fire crackled on the hearth, and low chairs with cushions invited lounging. Books that looked well used lay about on tables, and candles cut the gloom. It was the room of one who enjoyed comfort but not ostentation.
The lady in question entered. I stilled, finding myself enchanted.
Mrs. Chambers was a small woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. Her turned-up nose gave her a young look, but the settled curves of her body put her in her early thirties.
She was not beautiful, but she was arresting, as comfortable and lovely as her private sitting room. Without saying a word, she made a gentleman want to linger here, made him long to sink back into her sofa's cushions and have her look at him with those eyes. I could only applaud Summerville's choice.
'Captain Lacey?' Mrs. Chambers held my card in her hand and polite inquiry in her tone.
I came straight to the point. 'Mrs. Chambers, Mr. Summerville believes he left an article here last evening, and has sent me as an errand boy to fetch it.'
Her smile bathed me in charm, and I decided that Summerville was a fool. He was choosing to marry the rather colorless Miss Wright instead of living out his days in comfort with this woman.
I knew why, of course. If Summerville wanted money and a career, Mrs. Chambers could give him neither. He would need the Wrights and their influence. Only the very rich or very poor could make a match in the demimonde without worry.
'A nasty day for such an errand,' Mrs. Chambers said. 'Please sit down, Captain. Would you like coffee? Or perhaps something against the damp?'
I took the armchair she indicated, noting that the cushions were, indeed, soft, and stretched my aching leg toward the fire. 'I will not intrude upon you long. I will simply fetch the stick, if you have it, and go.'
She sat in a smaller chair next to mine. I wondered whether I sat in Summerville's place, and she in the more ladylike chair next to it was the usual arrangement. If so, that arrangement was a cozy one.
'His walking stick?' she asked. 'With the gold head?'
I nodded.
'I thought as much,' she said. 'He is always leaving it about.'
I hoped she did have it. I would have liked nothing better than to sit in this friendly room and chat with the pleasant Mrs. Chambers instead of continuing my search in the cold rain. I'd remain here and return to Summerville later this afternoon.
'Why did he not simply call for it himself?' Mrs. Chambers asked. 'Equally, he could have sent a note, rather than a friend loyal enough to soak himself in the attempt.'
I returned a grateful smile and touched the top of my own walking stick. 'I believe Mr. Summerville has pressing business, today. I was glad to oblige.' That is, I had been regretting my hasty decision to help, but I was now much happier about it.
'You mean he is wooing the Wright girl,' Mrs. Chambers said, her look turning wry. 'Or rather, Miss Wright's father. You needn't worry, Captain. I know all about it.'
She regarded me in amusement, and I felt sudden impatience with Summerville. 'I beg your pardon. I did not mean to embarrass you.'
'I am not embarrassed in the least. I admit that I am not fond of his decision to marry, but I understand. Mr. Summerville hasn't many other avenues open to him.'
'You are courageous,' I said quietly.
Pain flashed in her eyes before her smile reappeared. Summerville leaving her to marry hurt her, I saw, but she had decided to put a brave face on it. I admired her for that.
'The walking stick?' I prompted.
'I'm afraid I do not remember him having it yesterday, though I will ask my footman.'
Mrs. Chambers rose and rang a silver bell that rested on a tambour desk, and the lanky footman who'd admitted me entered the room.
'John,' she said. 'Did Mr. Summerville leave his walking stick behind last evening?'
John's face remained as expressionless as a blank wall. 'I couldn't say, ma'am. Henry was on the door last night.'
'I see. Thank you, John.'
John bowed with trained stiffness and withdrew.
'Henry has gone to visit his family,' Mrs. Chambers said once John had closed the door. 'He'll not return for a few days. However, I will make inquiries of the other staff and have a good root around myself. If the walking stick turns up, I'll send it on to Mr. Summerville.' She paused. 'Or perhaps it would be more discreet if I sent it to you.'
'That would be best,' I answered, rising.
I took my card back from her and scribbled my direction on it: Above Beltan's Bake Shop, Grimpen Lane, Covent Garden.
'Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Chambers,' I said, handing her the card. 'Your home is lovely.'
Again, the flash of pain. 'That is kind of you. Perhaps you would like to remain and take coffee?' She tried to look as though she'd love nothing better than for me to stay, but I saw in her eyes that she offered from simple politeness.
'I regret that I have another engagement.' I did regret it. Sharply.
'Ah, well. I am pleased to have met you, Captain.'
I confessed myself equally pleased, bowed, and took my leave.
The rain worsened as morning became afternoon. I pulled my greatcoat around me and directed the hackney across London and down the river toward St. Katherine's Dock. Descending, I limped along the narrow lanes, conscious of scurrying feet in the shadows, of predators stalking unexpected prey.
I entered the lodgings Summerville had indicated, and a sharper contrast to Mrs. Chambers's comfortable house there was not. The stench of cabbage permeated the stairwell, and paint peeled from the walls. I climbed painfully to the second floor and knocked on the door at the top of the stairs.
A child cried fretfully within, and then I heard the unmistakable sound of a window being banged open.
The door was unlocked. I shoved myself inside in time to see a thin woman climbing over the windowsill. I crossed the room swiftly and grabbed her around the waist.
She screeched. 'Lemme go!'
'You'll kill yourself, you little fool.' I shoved her from me and slammed the casement closed.
She went for the door. Again, I caught her. She didn't weigh much, but she was strong.
'Stop!' I shook her. 'I'm not a constable, whatever you may think.'
She peered at me from behind a fall of yellow hair. 'No? What are yer then?'
'I've come from Mr. Summerville.' I glanced at the children on the floor. One was about four; the other, still crawling. Both of them had light brown hair the same shade as Summerville's.
'Oh. You mean our Dobbin.'
I set her on her feet. 'You are Nellie?'
'I am. Sorry I tried to fight yer. I though maybe you was coming for me.' Nellie regarded me warily. 'What'ya want, then?'
'Mr. Summ- er, Dobbin, believes he might have left behind his walking stick. A black stick with a gold head.'
Interest lit her eyes. 'Gold, was it?'
I knew then that the stick wasn't here. This girl would have sold it the moment she'd found it, and no wonder. The disappointment on her face when she shook her head was genuine. 'Never saw it.'
'He did not have it with him when he visited yesterday?'
'Naw. Mind you, 'e weren't 'ere long, and it were late.'
'Ah, well. I apologize for disturbing you.'
