Madame Marie called entry at a soft knock on the private door and Mr. Renquist entered, then halted in his tracks, blinking several times. Madame had been correct. His eyes went directly to her décolletage. Oddly, after a moment of embarrassment, Gina felt empowered, as if she were in control of the situation.
“Have I interrupted?”
“Mais non, m’amour. What do you think of our little Gina now?”
“That it is a good thing she has the protection of the Hunter family.”
“Ah, you appreciate the nuance?” Madame asked, tongue in cheek.
“Perhaps a bit too much nuance?” he ventured.
“Oh, la! You are such a proper one, François. Little Gina will ‘ave the ton eating from ‘er ‘and.”
Gina smiled, suspecting the modiste had been quite experienced before her marriage to Mr. Renquist.
“The male half,” Mr. Renquist muttered as he sat on a small chair in one corner while Madame continued to pin her hem.
“Have you discovered anything, sir?” she asked.
“Progress is slow, Miss O’Rourke. I’ve learned that, until recently, Mr. Henley occupied rooms above a public house in Whitefriars. But for sleeping, he was rarely there. Following the raid two weeks ago, he disappeared, taking most of his belongings with him.
“Since then, he has been spotted from time to time at various establishments in Whitefriars, never staying one place very long. I gather that is the reason for his success in evading capture. Speculation has it that he has found quarters in more desirable environs but that he still frequents the pubs of Whitefriars.
“My sources were less forthcoming when I inquired as to Mr. Henley’s companions. Apart from various prosti—soiled doves, he has occasionally been seen with the worst scum Whitefriars has to offer, the Gibbons brothers among them. On rare occasions, he has been seen with gents, and rarer still, genteel ladies.
“I am devising a plan whereby I may be able to cross his path, Miss O’Rourke. Should that be the case, I shall follow him and send to you of his location immediately, but you should know that I am bound to notify the Home Office, as well.”
She nodded. She had no objection to the Home Office benefiting from Mr. Renquist’s investigations. In fact, if they could manage it on their own, she would not have become involved. But, should she find him first.
Mr. Renquist cleared his throat and went on. “Mr. Henley departed his last accommodations rather quickly, and the proprietor has a small box of items he left behind. If you are inclined, I shall purchase it from him for the unpaid portion of the rent.”
“Did you see what it contained?”
“The proprietor wished me to pay for that pleasure.”
“Then yes, please. Acquire it by any means. If it contains even the smallest clue …”
“Aye, Miss O’Rourke. Consider it done.”
Nancy tugged her sleeve, wanting to leave. “Oh, miss, should we really be here? Like as not, she isn’t receiving.”
Gina held her ground on the stoop of the Race home in Russell Square. “Then I shall leave my card. How can I not offer my condolences? Christina was very good to me when I had few friends in the ton.”
“Yes, miss, but—”
The door opened and a maid in a starched white apron answered.
“Is Miss Race at home?” Gina asked.
“She is, but she is not receiving this afternoon, miss.”
Gina took a card from her reticule and passed it to the maid. “Will you please tell her that Miss O’Rourke is here? I think she may wish to see me.”
The maid nodded and hurried away, leaving the door open but no invitation to step in.
Nancy tugged her sleeve again and whispered, “T’ain’t a good time, miss.”
“She may only have been a fiancée, but she is nonetheless bereaved.” James had not given her details of what had happened last night and Gina was desperate to assure herself of Christina’s safety. Pray she had not been present for the awful deed, or that Henley had not gone after her when his attack on Gina failed.
The maid was back and opened the door wider to admit them. Nancy looked down at the floor and went to sit on a small chair in the foyer, where servants were accustomed to waiting, while Gina followed the maid up a flight of stairs and down a corridor.
After a soft knock, the maid opened the door to admit Gina and closed it after her. The draperies had been drawn and the room was cast in gloom. She blinked to adjust to the darkness. “Christina?”
A deep and melancholy sigh answered her. “Thank you for coming, Gina. I wondered if you would.”
She followed the sound of the voice and found Cristina, still in her wrapper, curled up in a chair, at least a dozen handkerchiefs abandoned on the floor near her. She knelt beside the chair and took one of Christina’s hands.
“I am so sorry, Christina. I blame myself. Had I not asked for his help …”
“It would have happened anyway.” The girl looked down at her with infinite sadness in her hollow eyes. Her face was flushed and puffy from crying.
“But I forced him out of hiding. Had he stayed away—”
“Stanley has been hiding for weeks now, Gina. Mr. Henley was blackmailing him. It did not begin with you.”
“Blackmail? But what could Mr. Henley have held over Mr. Metcalfe’s head?”
“I cannot say. Other than his attendance at an event that went horribly wrong, Stanley was not the sort to engage in wrongdoing. I believe he felt complicit for something, though he swore he did not know the full measure of the consequences.”
The Brotherhood. Of course. Mr. Metcalfe had said as much to her in their short meeting. Had Mr. Henley been threatening to turn him over to the authorities if he did not pay hush money? But there had to be more. Mr. Metcalfe had readily admitted his involvement with the Brotherhood to her. He’d said he knew things. Things Mr. Henley would kill for.
“Did he ever talk about that night, Christina? Did he ever tell you anything that might damage Mr. Henley?”
She nodded, and her unbound dark hair fell over her face, shielding her as she began to weep again. “I cannot tell you without damaging Stanley’s reputation.”
“Did he tell you what the key opened? He hurried away before he could—”
“He only told me to give it to you, and that you would know what it opened.”
But she didn’t. Unless this, too, was something she had forgotten that night. But she could only press Christina for the one thing that might save her life. “Please reconsider, Christina. If Mr. Henley killed Mr. Metcalfe over the knowledge you hold, and then suspects you might know, too, he might want to silence you, as well.”
She gasped and pushed the hair away from her face to look at Gina. “Surely not!”
“I cannot be certain, but can we put anything past the man at this point? All I know for certain is that Mr. Henley must be stopped, by whatever means possible. Stanley would not want you dead, and your best protection is to tell the authorities, the Home Office and whoever else will listen. The more people who know the secret, the less reason Mr. Henley would have to kill for it.”
“I will not be leaving the house for several months, Gina. Can I be safe in my own home?”
Gina wished she could reassure her. Wished none of this had ever happened. Wished, too, that she’d never enlisted Christina’s help. She shrugged. “I do not know.”