as much or more indignity than he, and worse, you'd be pitied. Your own misery never occurred to him, and for that, I will not forgive him.'
She drew a sharp breath, lips parted, and I wished I had not spoken. The last thing I wanted to do was make Louisa Brandon believe that my current state was her fault. It had been my choice. I could have sunk Brandon and taken Louisa with me to Canada. But she loved the undeserving idiot, and I couldn't have borne to hurt her.
She rose in agitation and made for the door. I reached it before she did and blocked her exit. 'Where are you going?'
She would not look at me. 'To the opera, as I said. I am meeting Lady Aline.'
'I'll fetch your carriage and escort you.'
'You need not come with me.'
I thought of Jane Thornton, riding alone with her maid, stolen from a Mayfair family carriage. 'The devil I'm letting you run about Covent Garden alone. I will take you. And if your husband disapproves, he can call me out. '
She looked up at me then, and I saw in her eyes not guilt, but a mixture of pity and anger. I turned from her and strode into the cold staircase hall, slamming the door behind me. The last thing I wanted from Louisa Brandon was her pity.
'Josiah Horne,' Milton Pomeroy wrote in careful capitals on the back of my card. 'Who's he when he's at home?'
'A gentleman who lives in number 22, Hanover Square,' I answered.
'Never heard of him. What's he done, exactly?'
Pomeroy had a shock of yellow hair, which he slicked back with a cheap pomade that smelled faintly of oil of turpentine. He had a square, sturdy body and clear blue eyes and a voice that could bellow across battlefields. He knew nothing of the circumstances of my departure from the Peninsula; Pomeroy himself had followed the Thirty- Fifth Light Dragoons to Waterloo, then home again, to find himself at a loss for what to do.
By accident, he'd stumbled upon the lair of a thief who had been methodically working his way through London. Pomeroy had followed him, catching him in the act. The former sergeant had made the arrest himself, as citizens had the right to do, grabbed him by the neck, and hauled him off to Bow Street. His persistence had impressed the magistrates, and when an older Runner retired, they'd hired him on.
Pomeroy was well suited to life in the Bow Street Runners, an elite body of men who investigated crimes, tracked down wanted criminals, or searched for persons gone missing. They were allowed to keep whatever reward was posted for the criminal's capture and conviction, and Pomeroy applied himself with his ruthless sergeant's efficiency to gain as many rewards as he could. I frequently observed him tramping the streets near Covent Garden, some unfortunate in his grip, his sergeant's voice roaring above the crowd: 'Now then, lad, you're for it. Show some dignity, son. Stand on your feet and face the magistrate like a man.'
Constables, who often performed their duties only with reluctance, made arrests or looked into disturbances, but the Runners got the glory. If we found Jane Thornton, Pomeroy would land the reward, not me. Chasing criminals and searching for lost young women were not considered jobs for a gentleman.
Pomeroy and I stood together in the dingy hall of the Bow Street magistrate's court amid unwashed, half- sober men and women awaiting whatever judgment would be thrust upon them. I'd walked here after waiting about my rooms all the morning for a reply to a letter I'd sent to Grenville.
I wanted to pry from Grenville any information about Josiah Horne, because Grenville knew everything about everyone in London. He'd certainly be familiar with any gossip surrounding a wealthy gentleman like Horne. No reply came, to my irritation, so after an early afternoon meal of rolls from Mrs. Beltan's shop, I sought out Pomeroy instead.
My head felt thick. I'd stayed with Louisa in her box at the opera the night before until Lady Aline Carrington had arrived at the interval. That spinster had given me a good-natured grin, and I'd bowed stiffly and left Louisa in her redoubtable care. I'd gone home and taken three glasses of gin before retiring.
Despite my headache, the gin had successfully staved off the melancholia I'd sensed creeping over me. I'd suffered from the malady since my youth, and sometimes a dark depression would blanket me, depriving me of the strength even to rise from my bed. I'd learned to prevent the circumstance by immersing myself thoroughly in some interesting situation, but sometimes only gin and a night's rest would keep the darkness from me.
I made myself reflect carefully before answering Pomeroy's question about Horne. The former sergeant had the tenacity of a cardsharp, though not the wit. I did not want to set him on Horne until I had proof the man had done something.
'There was a riot before his house in Hanover Square, yesterday,' I said at last. 'His windows were broken.'
Pomeroy peered at me with wary curiosity. 'I heard of the riot. Didn't get there meself.'
'What about the girl, Jane Thornton?'
Pomeroy gave a firm nod. 'Her family reported her missing, that they did. Around February, I believe it was. We never found her, and the family couldn't offer much reward. Nasty business, but it goes on. Young ladies snatched off the streets. Can only be one trade for them after that, can't there, poor beggars?'
'She did not turn up as a suicide?'
'No, sir. I looked when I got your letter this morning. No Jane Thorntons fished out of the river as far as I know.'
I wondered how many anonymous girls had been recovered from it. Or whether Jane was still lying in the Thames, her young body being slowly torn apart by tides and fishes.
I thanked Pomeroy, who agreed to notify me if he discovered anything. I pushed past the defiant or hopeless women and men waiting in the hall, and left the Bow Street house.
I made my way to a printers in the Strand off Southampton Street, and told them to print notices of a five- pound reward for anyone with information regarding a girl called Jane Thornton, who had disappeared between the Strand and Hanover Square two months before. A notice had long odds of succeeding, but it was one of the few resources I had to hand.
Louisa had given me money to fund this enterprise. I'd swallowed my pride and accepted, knowing she'd offered for the Thorntons' sake, not mine.
After I'd finished this business, I walked westward along the Strand to ask questions of the vendors who lingered near the lane I'd brought Thornton home to the day before. Most answered me with poor grace because I stood in the way of paying customers, but a few were willing to chat. An orange girl who worked there most days remembered the posh carriage that used to wait at the end of the lane for a young lady, but she could not swear to it standing there a certain day two months ago or to who got into it.
Common practice was that the coachman would pull up and wait. The young lady would come with her maid, and one of the boys who waited about to sweep the street clean for nobs would assist her into the carriage, and then the carriage would roll on. The coachman never got down, or bought an orange, or had a chat, but the lady was always polite and sometimes bought something from her or the strawberry girl.
I gave the young woman a few pennies, and walked home with an orange in my pocket.
It was growing dark again when I approached the market at Covent Garden. The rain had slackened. Carts wound through the square, and housewives thronged the stalls, looking for last-minute bargains before the vendors shut down for the evening. Strawberry sellers, street performers, beggars, pickpockets, and prostitutes thronged among them. Cries of 'Sweet strawberries, buy my ripe strawberries' vied with 'Knives to grind, penny a blade.'
A girl sidled up to me and tucked her hand through my arm. 'Hallo, Captain,' she said. 'Fancy a bit?'
Chapter Five
I looked down. Black Nancy, so called because of her long, dyed, blue-black hair, sauntered along beside me, grinning at me to display her crooked teeth. A few of her colleagues sashayed just beyond her.
Nance could not have been much more than sixteen, and my constant rejection of her offers was a great
