“Reuben’s dead,” Mina sniffed. “At least he looked dead. And Gus Hopkirk was shot, but only in the shoulder.”
“Hopkirk, you say? Good Lord! He wasn’t a smuggler, was he?”
Mina nodded, her eyes filling with fresh tears. She turned to the Tavistocks again. “But where is Edward Herney, our tapster?”
“God bless you, miss, he’s sat in our kitchen getting the grilling of his life. They’re a-trying to pin the charge of smuggling on him too!” Miss Tavistock said with kindling anger. “And anyone with eyes in their heads can see he’s a good Christian lad with never a stain on his conscience!”
“Herney is no smuggler!” Jeremy said in shocked accents. “He was my second footman until last week!”
“Runnin’ amok, that’s what they’re doin’,” broke in Mr. Tavistock wrathfully. “Marching ‘round me house and tryin’ to clap everyone in irons! Why they’ll be after us next my dear,” he said turning to his sister. “Saying we were aiding and abetting criminals in our cellars!”
“I’d like to see them try, Amos!” his sister said indignantly.
“Jeremy.” Mina leant forward impulsively and took his hand in a firm grip. “You must help me.”
He glanced down at her bandaged wrist. “Of course, sister,” he said comfortingly. “You must not excite yourself, for you’ve clearly had an uncomfortable time of it. “
“Uncomfortable?” burst forth Miss Tavistock. “Someone beat her about the head so hard, it’s a mercy her skull wasn’t cracked!”
Jeremy straightened, a martial light gleaming in his blue eyes. He shrugged his cape onto the floor and flicked an invisible piece of lint from an impeccably cut sleeve. “I believe I will now see who’s in authority here,” he drawled, every inch the fifth viscount and Mina relaxed limply back onto the sofa.
*
Mina was taken up to bed shortly after by Miss Tavistock herself and shown into a handsome guest bedroom. She was swathed in one of that good lady’s tent-like nightgowns and a stone hot water bottle placed at her feet. Her head ached and her eyes were heavy from something a grim-faced Doctor Hadley added to a glass of water. He gave several sharp exhortations that his patient was not to be bothered for a good twenty-four hours and left after promising to visit with her on the morrow.
Jeremy looked in before he left, but Mina could not properly focus on what he was saying, save that he promised he would return first thing in the morning. Mina’s eyelids drooped down, and she gave way to a deep, dreamless sleep.
When next she woke, sun was streaming through the window and she stared at the ceiling for a good few moments before recalling her precise whereabouts. Indeed, when first she had woken, she had thought herself a schoolteacher still, in Bath.
Sitting up, Mina was surprised to see an assortment of her own items laid out on the chair by her bedside. One of her black dresses and some clean underclothing and her own bottle of lotion. Someone had been to The Harlot to fetch her things, she realized, flinging the bedclothes aside and sliding gingerly from the bed. She felt bruised and a little shaken, but her head no longer pained her except when she touched a hand to the bandage. Doubtless she had a bump there, but it could have been a good deal worse, she reflected as she padded over to the porcelain washstand where a jug of tepid water stood waiting for her. It was still warm enough for her to wash, so she set about her ablutions hurriedly and did her best with her the hairbrush around her bandaged head.
She was dragging her black dress over her head when a knock on the door heralded the arrival of the maid Annie who was a good deal dismayed to see that Mrs. Nye had already mostly dressed herself. She helped with the buttons and hooks and laces until Mina was presentable and then ushered her downstairs to a small parlor room where she was brought tea and toast.
Jeremy joined her as she was midway through her second cup and shut the door quietly behind himself, raising his finger to his lips. “The officers have been told you are under strict doctor’s orders to see no-one,” he said in a low murmur, joining her at the table. “We can count on the Tavistocks to help us avoid them.”
“Have you been to The Harlot this morning?” she asked.
“I have. Edna packed your things. I trust you had everything you needed.”
She nodded. “How were they?”
“Subdued,” he said. “They send their love. Edna’s eyes were very red, and she seems to be throwing herself into her work to occupy her mind.”
“She always throws herself into her work,” Mina said with a small smile.
“She says Corin is a tower of strength in her time of need.”
Mina was a little startled by this. She thought of timid little Corin and marveled that Edna should describe her so. “Well, I’m glad of that in all events. Was Herney allowed to return there last night? Without him, there is no man present to—”
“Do not fret,” Jeremy gave a wry smile. “He was permitted to return in the small hours of this morning. Even Officer Havilland was forced to admit he could not bring any charges against so blameless a character. I have sent Colfax along to help at the inn. He can turn his hand to most things.”
Mina thanked him and pushed her toast away half-eaten. “Now we have skirted the subject long enough,” she said, taking a deep breath. “How stand things with Nye?”
Jeremy was silent a moment before subjecting her to a hard look. “Tell me, sister, just how attached are you to things as they stand?”
Mina’s heart thudded almost painfully. “What do you mean?”
“Mina,” he reached across and took her hand.
