opened it to a page I'd marked, and held it up so we both could see it.
' Great happiness, ' I read in a low voice. ' Sn2y3y. Pleasure untold. I have not quite worked out what all the twos and threes mean, but I do understand what he means by great happiness. It's another way of saying Felicity.'
Her eyes were still, but I sensed quick thoughts behind them. 'What is this, Captain?'
'The notes of a man called Stacy. You know him.'
'What if I do?'
I closed the book and tucked it back into my pocket. 'I noticed this entry when I read through it this morning. Strange that I have been looking for a wealthy gentleman who could have lured Black Bess and Mary Chester to Covent Garden. Yet you have never mentioned Mr. Stacy, a wealthy man of Mayfair who likes to talk to game girls and make appointments with them.'
Her gaze flicked from mine. 'Maybe I did not want to get him into trouble?'
'Why should Mr. Stacy get into trouble if he has nothing to do with this?'
Felicity shrugged. 'I would not like to see him arrested, Captain. He is very rich.' She sent me a suggestive smile that did not reach her eyes.
'He might have kidnapped and killed Mary Chester, and the same fate might await Bess. Not to mention my daughter.'
She laughed, a sultry, seductive sound. Anyone watching us would believe Felicity busy seducing me. 'Mr. Stacy wouldn't hurt a fly.'
'Mary Chester is dead.'
'Her hard luck.'
I raised my brows. 'You do not care that Stacy, a man you let bed you, might have killed a woman, even accidentally?'
'And I tell you, he could not have.'
'Why not?' I set my mouth in a hard line. 'Explain it to me. Why should I not have Pomeroy arrest him for murdering the girl? He is the most likely person to have done the crime-both women went to meet a wealthy gentleman, and Stacy has admitted a passion for game girls. An obsession, more like, judging by his journal entries.'
'Maybe,' Felicity said. 'But I tell you, he's a gentle sort. Wouldn't hurt a fly, like I said.'
'But what if a girl refused him? Might he cut up rough? Force her?'
To my surprise, Felicity laughed again. 'You do not understand, Captain. Of course he would not. He never did the job with any of us. He couldn't.'
Chapter Sixteen
I blinked. 'You mean that Stacy is impotent?'
'That's exactly what I mean. His wick won't stand up long enough for anything. Poor man.'
'But he has a daughter.'
'He might have been able to do the deed when he was younger. But now, no. Happens to some.'
'Then why on earth does he take all these girls into his carriage?' I asked. 'According to his coachman, they stay with him for an hour, while Payne drives through the streets, dead slow.'
Felicity gave me an amused look. 'You are obviously a man with no fear in that regard. Mr. Stacy dandles them on his knee and talks to them. He touches them; they touch him. But there is never consummation.'
'But perhaps, in his frustration…'
'He hurts them? Naw. He likes the touching, and the girls don't mind him pawing. He doesn't hurt anyone, he's never going to give any of us a by-blow, and he pays good money. And Stacy is friendly, doesn't treat a girl like she's gutter trash and then expects her to give him what he wants, even when it's clear he hates her.'
At this last, her eyes flashed sudden anger, a rage so incandescent I could not believe it could be contained in one human being. Felicity shielded her gaze a moment later, but I had seen.
'This has happened to you?' I asked quietly.
She tried to sound offhand. 'It happens to all girls who ply a particular trade.'
'You are thinking of a certain instance.'
'It does not matter, does it? When you do what I do, you learn to expect it. There's gentlemen, Captain, that hate women. Perhaps their mothers beat them or their wives scorn them, I do not know. But they hate them with fury. And so they find a woman who must sit still while he despises her. She has to let him unleash every ounce of anger and frustration and hatred on her, and she has to take it, because that's what she's for.'
Her dark eyes swam with tears. She did not cry, as Carlotta might, wanting pity and soothing words. Felicity fought her demons and did so on her own.
'That is not what you are for,' I said.
She brushed moisture from her eyes. 'Don't talk like a reformer, Captain. They come round telling me I can be 'useful.' As what, I'd like to know.'
'My friend Mrs. Brandon found Nancy a position at an inn. Perhaps she can do the same for you.'
Felicity laughed again, this time in true mirth. 'Nance is different from me. She's a cheerful soul and gets on with people. I am no fool. Any man who employs me wants me in his bed, and that is all. Women dislike me on sight. Maybe it won't be so when I'm old and wrinkled, but it is now.' She gave me a knowing look. 'And Nance adores you. If you told her to climb up into yonder church spire and cluck like a chicken, she'd do it. For you.'
'You exaggerate. And I cannot help but notice you also have led me a long way from my original questions. If you think Stacy could not have harmed Mary or Bess or Gabriella, who could have? If you are protecting someone, I will have the law on you as hard as I will on him. I want my daughter back.'
'I know.' Felicity laid her hand on my arm. 'I really do not know where she is, Captain. I wish I did, 'cause I'd love to see the look on your face when I brought her home to you. You'd be that grateful. You might even forget about that pretty gentry lady you have as your ladybird long enough to thank me.'
I slanted her a quick smile. 'You will have to make do with my gratitude.' I stood up and pulled her to her feet. I gave the ale seller a coin and had him draw a cup, which I handed to Felicity. 'Take some refreshment and then keep searching, if you will. And if you know anything, anything, I want you to tell me. All right?'
Felicity took the cup. 'I'll do my best for you, Captain, promise.' She drank the ale, but gave me such a smoldering look over the rim of the goblet that I strode away as quickly as I could. Her low laughter floated behind me.
Major Auberge had come to Grimpen Lane in my absence. He waited uncomfortably for me in the bake shop and, at my invitation, ascended with me to my rooms.
He looked unhappier than ever, his face aged and tired. 'Please tell me you have discovered things,' he said. 'I cannot bear this much longer.'
'I have been questioning people, but no, I have not found her.'
Auberge covered his face and was silent for a time. I left him alone, moving about my rooms, reading messages and scribbling answers to them.
When at last Auberge lowered his hands, his lashes were wet. 'What are we to do? Carlotta is grieving. She has begun to worry about our children in France, though I assure her that my brother can look after them especially well. Better than we can, it seems.'
'Do not give up,' I said savagely. 'We owe it to Gabriella not to give up.'
Auberge shook his head. 'This is perhaps why France was pushed aside by England in the war. We feel things so, and we cannot go on.'
I tossed down my pen, sending ink spattering over my clean paper. 'Do not talk like a fool. We feel things as much, but I refuse to give up. And I will not let you either.'
'I am an old man, and tired. I have not slept since she went, no matter how I have tried.' He gave me a look of naked misery. 'I know she is not my daughter in truth. I know she belongs to you. But I love her, and I cherish her.'
