half-cocked at present, and might miss her coming or going. I did reconnaissance in the army; I can certainly do it in London.'
'What do we do?' Nancy asked, eager.
'Find Grenville for me. I sent him to the Strand. Tell him I will need a map. One of Horwood's will do-the man must have marked every house and every privy in London. I'll round up Grenville's footman and get Pomeroy to lend me his foot patrollers. I will look in every house in every street in this damn city if I have to.'
'She might have already found her way home,' Nancy pointed out.
'True. Then our effort will be for nothing.' I paused. 'I hope so.'
I could see that Felicity was not as sanguine as Nancy. Felicity was a little older, perhaps a little wiser. Nancy had been lucky; Louisa had saved her before Nancy's life selling her body had broken her or even killed her. Felicity had already spent years on the streets and knew what a very harsh place they could be.
Felicity laid her hand on my arm. Her skin was not really that much darker than Nancy's, but the essence of the color was different; olive and bronzed tones shone through whereas the tone of Nancy's skin was pink. My own tanned hand was more yellow.
'We'll find Mr. Grenville for you,' Felicity said. 'I know his fancy carriage.' She ran her fingers up my arm, her touch suggestive, though she said nothing. The unspoken offer was there, however. There was no desire in her eyes, only pity, as she offered comfort in her own way.
'Thank you,' I said, answering both her words and her silent gesture. 'Send anyone you see on the way to Grimpen Lane, and I will await you there.'
If Nancy noticed the exchange, she said nothing. Felicity smiled at me, a look of understanding, and withdrew her hand.
I sent them off and continued to Long Acre, hoping that every corner I turned would reveal Gabriella. None did.
Chapter Nine
To my annoyance, I found Pomeroy not at home. His landlady, a woman of about thirty, her three small daughters busily cleaning the downstairs hall, told me he was looking into a death in Marylebone, trying to decide whether to put it down as suicide or murder. She seemed proud to have a Runner staying in her house.
I left my card with a note on the back to Pomeroy to look me up at Grimpen Lane immediately on his return.
My leg aching with all my walking, I hired a hackney to return me home. The hackney moved through the crowd about as fast as I could walk, and I spent my time gazing across people and horses and down passages between tall slabs of houses to see if I could spy my daughter.
I pictured in my head that Gabriella would be at the bake shop when I returned, with Carlotta there, scolding her. Everything would be all right, and we'd laugh at the fright she'd given us.
I held on to this vision, so certain of it, that I knew that it would be true.
But when I arrived at the bake shop, it was shut and dark, Mrs. Beltan gone home. The disappointment of that cut me near to despair. Upstairs, empty rooms awaited me, with no Gabriella.
To keep myself from thinking of dire scenarios, I retrieved paper and sharpened a pen, and began making a list of likely places I could check and people I could call upon to help me.
My list grew lengthy, and I looked in surprise at all of the people with whom I'd forged ties since arriving in London: Sir Gideon Derwent; Leland Derwent and his friend Gareth Travers; Lady Aline Carrington; Sir Montague Harris, magistrate at the Whitechapel house; Thompson of the Thames River patrollers; Lady Breckenridge; Louisa Brandon and the many people she knew; Grenville, of course; and James Denis.
I looked at the last name and felt my mouth go dry, the gin having left a foul taste behind. If Gabriella were truly missing, I would be a fool not to go to Denis. If any man could turn the city inside out, it was he, a man with resources I could not begin to match. And, I thought with dawning hope, if he'd had a man watching me as usual, that man might have noted Gabriella and where she had gone.
I could not fathom what price Denis would ask of me for this favor. He wanted me to be under his obligation, so that I would not be a threat, and he had more than once hinted that he wanted to employ me outright. If Gabriella had truly disappeared, would enslaving myself to Denis be worth her return?
It would be.
Grenville arrived not long after I'd finished my list. Bartholomew and Matthias came upstairs with him, as did Major Auberge. By the grim looks on faces all around, none of them had found Gabriella.
Nancy and Felicity arrived soon after, with two of Pomeroy's patrollers in tow. 'First time I ever told Bow Street to come with me,' Nancy cackled as they ran up the stairs and into my sitting room.
Fortunately, my rooms, while sparsely furnished, were large, the architects of the house over a century ago having a liking for grand salons. My makeshift army fitted comfortably, though we would have been hard pressed had more joined us.
Grenville unrolled a map sheet of Covent Garden and surrounding areas on my writing table. He had not bothered to send home for one; he'd simply walked into a shop on the Strand and purchased it. That particular shop had just closed for the evening, but the proprietor had opened it again for Grenville.
I leaned on the table, looking at the streets I had walked not an hour ago, laid out in neat lines and squares. London looked so clean from this bird's-eye view, but the map could show nothing of the tall buildings, each with its own characteristic, streets that could narrow into crooked medieval lanes in three steps, the smell of unwashed people and dogs, the startling snorts of horses or pigs tucked into unseen yards, the noises of cart and carriage wheels, the clopping of hooves on cobblestones, shouting men, laughter and anger, joy and heartache.
With a sketching pencil Grenville had also provided, I squared off a part of the map, from Lincoln's Inn Fields in the east to St. Martin's Lane in the west, High Holborn in the north to the river in the south. It was a large slice of the city, but easy enough for a healthy young woman to walk.
'I am dividing up this area,' I said. 'In pairs, we will each take a part of the grid, where we will walk every street and check every alley and ask everyone we see if Gabriella has been seen. I plan to recruit more patrollers and Pomeroy and send word to Thompson. If you find Gabriella, you will latch on to her, bring her back here immediately, and stay with her. We will check back here every hour to see if any of the others have made progress. Do you understand?'
'Aye, Captain,' Matthias said, touching his forelock.
'Bartholomew and Matthias, I want one of you with Nancy, the other with Felicity. They know people, and they know the streets. Listen to them if they think of a place to look. Grenville, you take a foot patroller, for the same reason.'
'Jackson, my coachman, is willing to help,' Grenville put in. 'He can speak to other coachmen who might report something.'
'Excellent. Have him pair up with this fellow,' I said, pointing to the other patroller. I folded the expensive map and tore the sheet into pieces around my gridlines, handing one to each pair. 'Leave no stone unturned. I want to find Gabriella before some unscrupulous person does. Bartholomew and Felicity, since you will be taking the southwestern part of the grid, check the boardinghouse in King Street every once in a while to see whether she has returned.'
'Understood, sir,' Bartholomew said.
I stood up, my stance unconsciously becoming like the one I'd taken when readying my men for an upcoming battle. 'Go to it, then.'
They dispersed and departed, very much like my soldiers when I dismissed them. They squared shoulders and stood straight as though determined to obey orders to the best of their abilities.
Major Auberge did not follow them. 'You did not give me a map,' he said.
'Because you should go back to the boardinghouse and wait. Gabriella might return there, and I am certain Carlotta will be at her wits' end.'
In truth, I was as angry as I could be at Carlotta and did not care much about her anxiousness. She should have watched Gabriella and not let her out alone. But I used her worry as an excuse to send Auberge away,
