This close, he smelled of patchouli and spices, obvious remnants of his Curzon cologne. She took a deep, slow breath of it as a souvenir.
“Does your other offer still stand?”
She smiled wryly. Business-minded she was, but ultimately Eliza was not one to turn down an opportunity. “I would have not offered had I not meant it, good sir.”
He backed away–putting distance between them–bowed at the waist and opened the door for her. They entered to find the rest of the dinner party surrounding the upright piano. Eliza’s friend Jillian sat behind it, playing. Jillian turned to face the newcomers and stopped.
“I have found our Mrs. von Wilstrom,” Silas said to the onlookers.
Jillian touched her earlobe and raised her eyebrows. Eliza winked and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders tightly.
“I was unaware she had gone missing.” Mr. Dashing yawned, turning a bored look on his paper.
Eliza smiled at the handsome man and sat beside him on the settee. “I, for one, am so glad someone was concerned about my whereabouts, Mr. Dashing.”
He looked up and winked, then returned once again to his paper. Eliza turned to Silas. “If you could be so kind as to ask for my hansom to be brought around, I should probably retire. It has been a very long evening already, and I fear I shall fall over if I stay for too much longer.” Silas bowed and called for a servant.
Jillian’s song ended, and she turned to face her friend. “Oh, Eliza, please don’t leave just yet. It’s still quite early.”
“I have pressing business to attend to.”
“Pressing?”
“Yes. Very.” Eliza touched her ear. Jillian nodded discreetly.
The servant returned and told Eliza her carriage was ready.
“I shall walk you out, Mrs. von Wilstrom.” Silas again opened the parlor door for her. She said her goodbyes and left. Silently, they wound through the hallways to the front entrance.
Without turning around, she spoke over her shoulder as she opened the front door. “I shall see you later this evening, then?”
“Yes, if the offer still stands.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it didn’t.”
Eliza shook her head in annoyance. Silas grinned. Eliza walked out onto the dark curb and stepped into the waiting carriage. She found herself looking forward to her late night visitor. The smell of him still tickled her nose. Smiling, she settled in her seat and motioned for the driver to begin their ride back to her townhouse.
Once out of the constant glow of the gas street lamps, she searched through her black beaded lace reticule. She removed a circular, palm-sized leather device and hooked it onto the back of her ear. She flipped the front piece to mold over the curve of her ear, showing intricate workings resembling a watch’s interior: a puzzle of brass and silver cogs and wheels. From the bottom, a small copper screw jutted out a quarter inch. With a twist, it and the watch piece cogs began to spin, whirring to life with a hum. A golden stem stretched from her ear to her mouth. She twisted the screw again, and a small speaker began to emit a long, low tone into her ear.
* * * *
In Silas Willoughby’s parlor, a chime came from the general vicinity of Jillian’s reticule, which rested on the piano. Jillian watched as Devin Dashing looked up from his newspaper toward the clock. Frowning, he looked back to his paper. Jillian shot a glance at him, then her purse, and–hearing the noise again–began to cough over the sound. Devin looked at her curiously. Jillian excused herself from behind the piano and took the reticule to the bathroom. A tiny tinkling chime emitted from it again. She pulled the strings open to reveal an earpiece identical to Eliza’s. She clipped it to her ear and twisted the screw, waiting for the cogs to spin.
“Hello, Eliza?” She spoke quietly into the golden stem.
“Yes, Jillian. I cannot talk long. I received the missive from Colonel Cuthbert.” Her voice crackled and popped through the device, but Jillian did her best to make out what she was saying.
“Cuthbert? What does he want this time?”
“He hasn’t given me many details, but there’s a Countess Millicent Wilmont who needs attending. I couldn’t wait to get out of Silas’s house to call.”
“Millicent Wilmont? Wasn’t she the crazed old bat who tried to burn down Parliament because it smelled like day-old fish?”
“Yes, one and the same.” Eliza laughed. “She’s taken it upon herself to rid us of the new Tower Bridge.”
“What? Why ever for?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, dear friend. I’ll have to find out from the colonel.”
“This should be a fun task.”
“Indeed. How is the rest of the dinner party?”
“Dreadful. Devin Dashing finally finished reading his newspaper, but he refuses to put it down. Instead, he’s taken to staring at me over the top of the pages for the past fifteen minutes, as if I am but a scone to eat. Silas keeps going back into this office and returning, most annoyed. Where did you find the missive this time?”
“In his study.”
“Naturally! That’s why he’s annoyed. He probably thinks you stole something.”
“Oh, posh. He has nothing to steal.”
“Only his virtue,” Jillian snickered. She listened as Eliza laughed again.
“I should turn this thing off before my driver thinks I’ve gone mad.”
“Shall I come tomorrow morning to discuss the details?”
“Yes, do. Also, be sure to send word to Miriam. We shall meet around noon.”
“Noon? Why so late?”
Eliza cleared her throat. “I have a prior engagement.”
“Oh, do tell. Has Mr. von Wilstrom returned, then?”
“Jillian, please. He shan’t grace my doorstep again. I’m merely waiting for him to divorce me so I can be done.”
“Eliza, honestly. You think he would divorce you? Whatever would people say?”
“I don’t care what they say. After our next assignment, I figure I’ll have enough income to support myself. Perhaps I’ll go overseas.”
“You cannot leave me!”
Someone knocked on the door to the restroom, and Jillian dropped her voice. “I must go. I’ll see you at noon.” She took out the earpiece and tucked it back into her handbag, the little device’s cogs spinning to a halt.
“Ms. Johnsworth, are you all right?” She heard Mr. Dashing on the other side of the door.
“Quite. The parlor was too warm. I needed to refresh myself.” She stepped out to find herself face to chest to the man. He took a step backward, allowing her to exit.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy.”
“No bother. I was just about to call for my carriage.”
“Do you have an escort this evening?”
“Why of course. I always do,” she scoffed.
Devin Dashing bowed again and allowed her to pass.
* * * *
“Those two women are up to something,” Devin Dashing said, folding his newspaper and putting it down. All the visitors had left and only he and Silas remained. They moved into a smaller room in the front of the house, where the bar was located.
“Of