having to press through the market. I walked in the opposite direction, back to the lingering crowd that filled Covent Garden on this warm summer evening.
I scanned the square, looking in vain for Gabriella's golden brown hair in the sea of hats, caps, mobcaps, and bonnets. She'd worn a small, flat ivory-colored hat with ribbons when I'd met her yesterday morning, and I tried to spy something like that.
I passed the peach seller who'd tried to cheat her. He remembered the encounter and bent a surely eye upon me when I asked if he'd seen the girl I'd been talking to the day before. He snarled that no, he hadn't, and no, he had no interest in seeing her again. I nearly grabbed him and shook him, but the vendors on either side of him, one for ale and the other for greens, confirmed that Gabriella hadn't come nigh them since yesterday morning.
I asked at every seller down the line, to no avail. I asked the strolling vendors, the strawberry girls and orange sellers, flower girls and knife grinders. None had noticed or even remembered Gabriella.
Bartholomew and Matthias were no doubt right, I thought, trying to stem my rising fear. Gabriella probably had simply taken a wrong turn and could not have gone far. I might turn on to Henrietta Street and find her asking her way from the boy who swept paths across the street, or chatting with a maidservant.
With this picture in place, I hurried to Henrietta Street, my walking stick tapping, my leg protesting my frenzied pace. I saw carts and drovers, horses and mules, wagons and carriages. Maids and footmen, women and men, boys and other urchins swarmed about, but no Gabriella.
I began to ask passersby if they'd seen her. Those who bothered to respond to me answered in the negative. A plump, older woman said to me, 'She's your girl, is she? I'm that sorry to hear you can't find her. Best go to Bow Street, you know. If I see her, I'll take her there myself. Don't you worry now.'
I thanked her and went on my way.
I walked to Bedford Street and turned north, pausing halfway along at the churchyard of St. Paul's, Covent Garden. This was a quiet passage with the church looming at the end, elegant in its simplicity. I walked down it. The church at the end was open, dim and cool, but I did not find Gabriella wandering here as a reprieve from the hectic pace of Covent Garden.
I continued north to King Street and turned east again. Grenville's carriage was just pulling away from Carlotta's boardinghouse, and I waited until it drew alongside me.
The coachman stopped, and Grenville opened the door. Major Auberge was in the carriage with him. The major peered down at me worriedly, his round face pale.
'She is not there?' I asked.
Grenville shook his head, his dark eyes troubled. 'The major wants to join the search. I said I'd take him through the streets, though I am certain Bartholomew and Matthias can cover them more quickly. Come with us.'
I refused. 'I am heading for Bow Street to ask Pomeroy to send out his patrollers. They know the area better than anyone. Go through Maiden Lane and make your way down to the Strand.' I pushed my hand through my hair. 'It might be that she was only curious to see more of London. There are so many unusual shops in the Strand; perhaps she became mesmerized by them.'
'Gabriella does like exploring,' Auberge said. His eyes met mine, he, too, wanting to believe that she would easily be found. 'She wished to see all the sights when we were in Paris.'
She was a Lacey, all right. 'She might have wanted to have a look at the river,' I said. 'There are many confusing lanes south of the Strand. Look there if you do not find her shopping.' I hoped she'd not gone to the winding lanes on the river, an area which had an unsavory reputation.
Grenville nodded. I shut the door for him and stepped back as the coachman slapped the grays with the reins. As the coach rattled away through traffic, I strode back to Covent Garden, skirting it to James Street, its outlet leading north, and around the bulk of the theatre to Bow Street.
Pomeroy was not in, but he was expected soon. I did not care for this information, and I managed to bully the direction of Pomeroy's digs from one of his patrollers. I realized that in the two years Pomeroy had been back in London, I had not known where he lived. I'd always been able to find him at Bow Street or one of the taverns near it.
I told the patrollers of my problem. The one I'd bullied said he could do little until Pomeroy's return, but he promised to send out a few lads.
As I emerged from Bow Street, ready to find the house off Long Acre that Pomeroy called home, I saw Black Nancy and Felicity coming from the direction of the theatre.
'Captain,' Nancy called cheerfully. 'You ran off so fast and never said goodbye.'
I caught up to them and seized Nancy by the shoulders. 'Where have you been walking? Did you see the girl I took away to my rooms?'
Nancy stared at me in amazement. 'No. You looking for her?'
'She's gotten lost. Perhaps lost,' I amended. She could still turn up in King Street, surprised at our concern, but as the minutes passed, I grew less and less certain.
Felicity's silken black brows rose. 'That one? She's a young miss, Captain. She won't do well around here.'
'Precisely why I am trying to find her. It could be she's simply taken a wrong turn, gone the wrong direction trying to fetch up in King Street and the boardinghouse.'
I tried to speak calmly, as though Gabriella were an ordinary girl who might have wandered away and would be back soon. But the tremor in my voice betrayed me. Nancy looked worried, and Felicity put a calming hand on my arm.
'We'll look out for her, Captain,' Felicity said. 'You come with us now.'
'I do not want to go anywhere with you. I want to find my daughter.'
Nancy and Felicity exchanged an amazed glance. 'Coo,' Nancy said. 'I didn't know that was your daughter.'
Felicity's grip on my arm firmed. 'Now, you come with us. I know when a man needs a gin.'
So saying, she steered me across the busy street and into a tavern. I had not come into this public house before, preferring the Rearing Pony or the Gull. Heads turned as I entered in the company of so obvious a game girl as Felicity, but after one curious glance, the clientele, most of them well into their cups, looked the other way without rancor.
Felicity and Nancy sat me down at an empty end of a long table, and Felicity sidled to the landlord and asked for three glasses of gin.
Nancy gave me a sympathetic glance. 'You're worrit that she got snatched by the same man who's taking the game girls, ain't you?'
'I don't know.' I drew a breath, resting my hands flat on the table. 'Gabriella is obviously a girl from a respectable family, and we still do not know whether the game girls were snatched. They might have decided to find work in a house, or they might have been taken up by protectors.'
'Well, they ain't in any houses round here,' Nancy said. 'Felicity and me had a look into all the bawdy houses, and neither Black Bess nor this Mary Chester has been in any of 'em.'
'You can be certain?' I asked. My entire being was focused on finding Gabriella, and at this moment, I couldn't keep much interest in girls who'd wandered away from their regular lovers, likely in search of better money. The two events might be connected, yes, but I did not want them to be. I could search for game girls, feeling a stranger's sympathy for their plight, but I did not want my daughter and her disappearance to be lumped with theirs. Their world was too dangerous.
'Fair certain,' Nancy said. 'They treat Felicity with some respect, and I don't think they'd lie to her.'
Unless the house were keeping the girls secretly, for some unknown purpose.
Felicity sat down and shoved a glass of clear, noisome liquid under my nose. 'You drink that, Captain. It'll stop your shaking.'
I hadn't realized I was shaking. But I saw that I had pressed my hands tightly against the table to still their trembling, and I was having difficulty catching my breath. I obediently raised the glass and gulped the gin.
The liquid burned fire into my gullet, and I wanted to cough. Foul stuff, but it warmed my blood and calmed my tremors a little. Felicity sipped her gin as though it were a delicate glass of champagne. Nancy took one drink, made a face, and set it down. 'Foul stuff. I like ale, meself.'
I took a long breath, my mouth tingling from the gin. 'I need to organize a search. We are all running about
