Strange to see Belle comforting Mrs. Price, when Belle should have been the one receiving comfort. Hew had watched her dissolve into tears just hours before, but she’d managed to find a core of strength. Hew didn’t have time to coddle the woman. “Tell me what happened. I need every detail, no matter how innocuous,” Hew said.
Mrs. Price’s eyes widened. “Of course, if you think it will help. Will you search for Mr. Howard? Are you from Bow Street?”
“Something like that.”
Mrs. Price jumped up. “Oh, but where are my manners? I haven’t even offered you refreshment. You must be famished.”
Hew was famished, and normally he would have ignored the hunger and pushed onward, but he was acutely aware that he’d only just recovered his strength. Now was not the time to test it. He allowed Mrs. Price to bustle about and set out several cold dishes as well as hot tea.
“We’re wasting time,” Belle said, leaning close enough that he caught the scent of cinnamon. Was that her or the Hot Cinnamon Spice tea?
“I’m as eager as you to begin searching,” Hew said, “but I’ve learned to gather all the facts before beginning an investigation. It saves time in the end.”
She took the chair beside him. “And what if that’s time my father doesn’t have right now?”
“Then we save time by not making false starts and chasing dead ends.” He grasped her hand. “I know it’s difficult to be patient, but they have no reason to harm your father. It’s me they want.”
She pulled her hand away. “And why is that? You still haven’t told me what this is all about.”
She had a point, and now that she was more involved than he would have ever imagined, he owed her some explanation. “You’re right. I will tell you everything.” He inclined his head toward Mrs. Price. “Later.”
Mrs. Price finally took a seat across from them, pushing the dishes she’d set out closer to Hew. He tried to make himself eat slowly, noting Belle ate very little at all.
“I told him not to go,” Mrs. Price began. “We were tucked up here, snug as could be, while the rains poured.”
Belle’s teacup clattered as she set it on the saucer.
Mrs. Price went on, seemingly oblivious. “I made sure George was fed and dry—”
“George?”
“Your father, dear.”
Belle gave her a look that Hew knew well as he’d been on the wrong side of it too many times.
“But when the rains stopped, he insisted on returning to the shop. I told him not to,” Mrs. Price said. “But his mind was made up. And you know your father when his mind is made up.”
Belle’s hands were gripping the table hard, and Hew reached over and patted them, which earned him a fierce scowl. He moved his hands away slowly; best not to make any sudden movements.
“He set off for the shop,” Mrs. Price said with a sigh. “I watched him walk away through the window there. But he didn’t return.”
“When was this?” Hew asked, grasping information he could use. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“It must have been about midday yesterday. It was after the rains stopped.”
“How long was he gone before you became concerned?”
“I didn’t expect him to hurry back, but I thought he’d return for supper. He said he liked my cooking. “
Belle made a sound like a growl in her throat.
“I cooked all afternoon, but he didn’t come home.”
“He was home,” Belle said. “The flat above the shop is his home.”
“Of course, dear. More tea, Mr. Arundel?”
“No, thank you. When he didn’t return, what did you do? Did you go to look for him?”
