Page 41 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

Lady Lockwood introduced Verity to the new arrivals as Mrs. Billingham, a friend of Annabeth’s. It was imperative, of course, to keep the investigation a secret from Mrs. Dunbridge, and it scarcely mattered that Nathan’s mother would know Verity under a false name, for once this case was over Verity would doubtless never see the woman again. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a small pang of regret at the subterfuge.

Nathan’s mother was the pretty middle-aged woman who had done Lady Lockwood’s bidding, and the sharper-faced woman, his aunt. Mrs. Dunbridge launched into a long and rather silly account of their shopping, but her manner was so sweet and lively that even Lady Lockwood laughed instead of making a sarcastic comment.

As the conversation progressed, Verity began to wonder if Nathan’s mother was as muzzy-headed as she appeared. There was a little twinkle in Rose’s eye that reminded Verity of Nathan when he teased. Once, after Rose asked a foolish question that made everyone laugh, Verity carefully observed the woman’s pleased expression, and Rose flashed Verity a small conspiratorial smile.

Though Verity was curious about Nathan’s mother and would have liked to get to know her better, she was even more eager to spend time with her son. She wanted to tell Nathan what she had learned from Lady Lockwood, and the whole time she’d been here, she had been wondering if he had called on her, only to find her gone. Besides, there was that strange little tug in her chest, the faint nameless anxiety.

When Annabeth concealed a yawn with her hand and suggested that it was time for her to go home, Verity immediately rose. “Yes, of course you must be tired. Let me drive you home—I brought my carriage.”

“Thank you.” Annabeth smiled. “That will save me having to drag Grandmother’s poor coachman out again.”

“I’m surprised Mr. Rutherford didn’t accompany you,” Nathan’s aunt said. There was a faint bite to her words. Verity suspected that the Dunbridge women nursed some degree of resentment at Annabeth’s choice of Sloane Rutherford over Nathan.

“Sloane had some business to attend to this morning,” Annabeth said, her own voice as smooth and placid as a calm lake.

“Yes, he and Nathan were doing something,” Marcus added.

“Sloane and Nathan?” Annabeth and Verity chorused in surprise.

“Why, yes.” Marcus looked slightly taken aback at their response. “Nathan came to call as I was leaving this morning. I think it’s good that the lads are becoming friends again.”

Verity wasn’t sure that Nathan and Sloane had ever been friends, let alone had grown closer after Sloane married the woman Nathan loved. She and Annabeth exchanged a look, and Verity asked Marcus, “Why did Nathan visit Sloane?”

Marcus tilted his head to one side, thinking. “I don’t believe he said. We just chatted a bit and then I left.”

The little tug in Verity’s chest grew stronger, and she hurriedly made her good-byes, as did Annabeth. She expected Annabeth’s grandmother to make an acerbic remark about their rushing through the courtesies of departure, but Lady Lockwood simply looked at them shrewdly and waved them away.

“What could Nathan want from Sloane?” Annabeth asked in a low voice, hurrying along with Verity to the front door.

“I don’t know. But he’s up to something. I’m sure of it.” Verity swept through the door that the footman had hurried to open. She looked up and down the street and saw her carriage ambling along. Yanking off her gloves, she stuck her thumb and finger between her teeth and let out a piercing whistle.

Annabeth started at the sound, but the look she sent Verity was admiring. “I’d like to do that. Can you teach me?”

“I can try. It comes in handy.” Verity tossed her a grin.

The driver turned the horses and started back to them at a much quicker pace. Still, Verity continued to survey the area as they waited.

“Why do you think Nathan is up to something?” Annabeth asked. “What do you suppose it is?”

“I’m not sure. He just had this look in his eyes—like he was planning some sort of mayhem and didn’t want me to know.”

“Mayhem? Nathan?” Annabeth said in surprise.

The carriage rattled to a stop beside them, and Annabeth climbed in, aided by the little boost from behind that Verity gave her. Verity gave a last encompassing look around and started to get in.

“Miss! Miss!” a high-pitched breathless voice called in the distance. “Wait!”

Verity stepped back and looked up the street to where a young girl ran toward her, waving her arms frantically.

“Sally!” Verity’s heart sped up. Something’s happened to Nathan.

Sally was the most reliable of the band of street urchins Verity routinely hired—the girl had a tenacity you couldn’t teach—and Verity had given her the task of keeping an eye on Nathan today. Clearly her uneasy feeling had been justified.

Verity hurried forward. “What is it? Is Nathan all right?”

The girl reached her and doubled over, hands on knees, gasping for breath. Sally was small and dressed in worn clothing, her face and hands a sort of grayish color that spoke of little washing. Verity stifled her impatience, and after a moment, the girl began to gasp out her message, “Sorry. Late. Couldn’t get a hack to take me, and then you wasn’t home.”

“That’s fine. Just tell me—is he in trouble?”