her words. 'I can think of several sordid things that begin with the letter T.'
'So can I,' Marianne agreed.
I lifted the book from Marianne's hands. 'That will be enough of that.'
Marianne frowned. 'I am trying to help, Lacey. If Stacy offed this girl, I shall be very angry with him. Grenville will have to cut him dead.'
Lady Breckenridge had sunk gracefully into the wing chair, a little smile on her face at my discomfiture. There were no other seats in the room, so I remained standing.
'Grenville has already cut Brian McAdams,' I said. 'He is another possibility for the murderer.'
Lady Breckenridge wrinkled her nose. 'I am pleased to hear it. McAdams was a friend of my late husband. I have been cutting him for years, but Grenville's gesture will blackball him entirely.'
'Even if Stacy did not kill Mary Chester, do you think, Marianne, that he could kidnap a girl and hold her against her will? Do you think he is the sort who would do that?'
Marianne shrugged. 'I'm not certain. He was always friendly and chatty, but as I said, a bit odd. His good nature could mask cunning, but as you know, I never trust a gentleman.' She finished with a bitter twist to her lips.
'My thought was that perhaps Stacy did kidnap Mary Chester and Black Bess, and very possibly my daughter. Perhaps he did not mean to kill Mary, or perhaps someone else did that-McAdams with his rough ways. When Stacy discovered that either he or McAdams had killed Mary, he panicked and carried her to Bottle Bill's, knowing about Bottle Bill's violent drunken spells-having learned this either from the girls or from his own observation.'
'You could always ask him,' Lady Breckenridge said. 'You and the sword in your walking stick.'
'I intend to.' I ran my hand through my unruly hair. 'I would like to have Pomeroy arrest Stacy while we continue to look for Bess and Gabriella, although I am afraid that if Stacy is taken, McAdams might harm the girls. Pomeroy could arrest both, but moving against two upper-class Mayfair gentlemen is risky for him.'
'You could have Pomeroy arrest Stacy and then follow McAdams to see what he does,' Lady Breckenridge suggested.
'I thought of that as well. Denis has already put men to follow Stacy and McAdams, so we may see what they do, and I will certainly grab Stacy and shake him again. What I want most of all…' I stopped and drew a breath. 'Is the return of my daughter.'
Both ladies looked at me, true sympathy in their faces. Each of them had a son, and they knew what I felt.
'Stacy and McAdams might be innocent of this crime,' I said after a time. 'Bottle Bill is a panicked and pathetic man. He will say what he needs to say to keep himself from Newgate. He might have killed Mary himself, even accidentally, and be lying through his teeth about it.'
'Then what do we do?' Marianne asked.
'Keep searching,' I said. 'I'll not stop until she's found.'
'Neither will we,' Lady Breckenridge said. She did not come to me. She remained seated with her cigarillo, but her eyes told me more than words what she felt.
The search continued that morning, through the afternoon, and on into evening, with various contingents reporting to me. Pomeroy sent messages from Bow Street with information gleaned by his patrollers.
Coaching inns had been searched and landlords questioned, to no avail. None remembered seeing a girl fitting Gabriella's description at their inn, either alone or with a young man. Sir Gideon Derwent persuaded a few magistrates to invade and close down several known bawdy houses, but Gabriella was not found in any of them. Neither was Black Bess.
Colonel Brandon came to report to me himself around eight o'clock that the inns he and the soldiers had checked along the road to Dover had yielded nothing. If Gabriella had fled to France, no one had seen her. Brandon had sent the soldiers farther, to check Dover itself and any ships leaving for Calais.
'Thank you,' I said sincerely. 'Your help has made much difference.'
'I would feel better if I had some news to report,' Brandon said.
'Even knowledge that she has not been somewhere helps. We can narrow the search, concentrate effort elsewhere.'
We stood in the bake shop, where I had returned for coffee and bread for supper. Brandon lowered his voice so that the lady who had come in to purchase a loaf would not overhear. 'How long do you plan to search?'
'As long as it takes,' I said. 'The rest of my life if necessary.'
He scrutinized me with his piercing blue eyes. 'You do know that she might never be found. I dislike to tell you that, but it happens. We saw it all the time in Spain and Portugal, where families would be separated and sons and daughters lost.'
'I know.' I remembered the despair and grief of people searching for one another in the Spanish towns we had taken and the sickening feeling that I could do nothing to help them. French soldiers dragged off daughters for their pleasure, sons to recruit against their will. The English, there to drive out the French, had not necessarily been kinder.
'I know you will not cease,' Brandon said. 'I will help as I can.'
'Tell Louisa it was not her fault.'
'She is apt to take the blame, especially in matters where you are concerned.'
'Whatever happened to us?' I asked abruptly.
'Eh?' He gave me a sharp look. 'How do you mean?'
'We used to be fast friends, in the first days, in India. You got me my commission. You pinned the rank on me yourself, smiling like a proud papa. And then…'
Brandon scowled. 'And then I realized that you were a stubborn, arrogant, hotheaded pain in the fundament.'
I had to smile. 'If you thought so, why did you not cut me? Why help me rise through the ranks? You risked your money and your good name on this arrogant hothead.'
He looked uncomfortable. 'Because you were a damned fine officer, that is why. We needed good officers, and much as I hate to praise you to your face, you were one of the best.' Brandon loosened his collar. 'Besides, if I had dropped you, Louisa would have killed me.'
I wanted to take offense at his words, but there was nothing for it. I laughed out loud. The bread-buying lady stared at us on her way out. 'You are a poor specimen, Brandon.'
'You were not married long enough to understand.' He gave me a superior look. 'When your Lady Breckenridge gets her fingers into you, it is I who will laugh.' He nodded to me, then to Mrs. Beltan behind her counter. 'I'll be going, Lacey. I will help you search as long as you need me.'
His face a bit redder than usual, he ducked out of the bake shop, slapping on his hat. Any conversation that hinted of sentimentality or reconciliation embarrassed him.
I finished my dinner and went out in search of Felicity. I found her in Covent Garden, talking to another game girl in the shadow of the theatre. I didn't know the girl's name, but she had often called out to me as I walked in the area, teasing me with her friends.
'Any good news, Captain?' Felicity asked as I walked away with her after a short exchange of banter with the other girl. 'Lela there hasn't seen Black Bess in ages, or anyone who looks like your daughter, I'm sorry to say.'
'Thank you for trying. But I do want to speak to you about something else. May we?'
Felicity flashed a smile as I gestured her onward as though she were a society lady at a garden party. We made our way toward where an ale seller had set up makeshift benches by laying boards across empty ale kegs.
I reflected that 'exotic' described Felicity well. Her deep brown eyes and bone structure conjured visions of harems of the East, complemented by dark skin and glossy black hair that enticed a man's touch. She showed off each of her advantages, wearing a gown of striking blue that accented her skin, and dressing her hair in heavy braids looped against her head. She could smile with a combination of red lips and white teeth to entrance a man's gaze to her mouth. She did not dress immodestly, but any gentleman looking at her would find his thoughts turning to desire.
I seated her on a relatively empty bench and sat down next to her. I removed Stacy's journal from my pocket,
