‘You have not yet been proven guilty.’
Grace’s gentle reminder did nothing to alleviate the black mood that was gathering like a storm cloud over Wolf. Richard had a wife and baby now. What right had he to involve him in his problems? It was bad enough he had already involved Grace.
‘Well, I have news about Annie Meesden,’ declared Mrs Graham. She hesitated and looked at Wolf. ‘Perhaps you would rather wait until we are away from here.’
‘By no means,’ said Richard firmly. ‘Tell us now, ma’am. You may depend upon our discretion.’
Wolf sighed and put up his hands in a gesture of defeat. ‘Very well. What did you learn, Mrs Graham?’
The widow sat down on a chair, beaming widely.
‘I think I managed it very well,’ she said. ‘I talked to Mrs Payne about the hospital, pledged a little money then discussed with her the difficulties of finding a clever needlewoman to do one’s mending these days. As I hoped, she immediately suggested Mrs Meesden. It appears the woman has sunk very low and lives in a single room in Leg Alley, off Long Acre, north of Covent Garden. A very insalubrious area, but it seems one of the reasons Mrs Payne uses the woman is that not only is her sewing excellent, but she charges very little.’ Her mouth turned down in a little grimace of distaste. ‘I was shocked at her nip-farthing ways, but I thought it best not to say so.’
‘No, indeed, Aunt,’ said Grace. ‘And how clever of you to find out her direction so adroitly.’
‘Yes, thank you, ma’am,’ said Wolf. ‘I am in your debt. I shall call in Leg Alley first thing tomorrow.’
‘You should lie low and let me go,’ offered Richard.
‘You do not know the woman, Brother. No, I must speak with her.’
‘But you should not go alone, sir,’ said Grace.
‘Of course, alone.’ Wolf gave an impatient huff. ‘It will not be the first time I have ventured into such a place.’
She shook her head at him. ‘That is not what I mean. When I talked to the maid she told me Mrs Meesden dislikes men. She was turned off for insolence towards Mr Payne. I do not think she will talk to you.’
‘Wolf will make her talk,’ said Richard grimly.
‘I am sure he could do that,’ murmured Grace. ‘But will it achieve the result we want?’
Wolf scowled. ‘Then what do you suggest, Miss Duncombe?’
‘Let me come with you. She does not know me, but she will know my father, from her months at Arrandale, and she may be more willing to talk to me.’
Wolf acknowledged the truth of this. Even after ten years he could still remember the dresser’s barely concealed contempt for him. She was unlikely to fall upon his neck and reveal all. He might use threats or bribes, but even then he could not be sure she would tell him the truth.
‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘We will go to see her together.’
‘You must take my carriage,’ put in Mrs Graham. ‘And I shall send a footman. No, two. Those alleys around Covent Garden are little better than rookeries.’
Grace looked at Wolf. ‘Come to the house tomorrow at ten, sir, and we will set off from there.’
Mrs Graham sighed. ‘Oh, dear, perhaps I should not let you go, my love. What your father would say if he knew of it I do not like to think.’
Grace laughed. ‘It was his idea that I should help Mr Arrandale, ma’am, so he could hardly complain!’
* * *
The carriage drew to a halt at the entrance to a grim little alley. It was so narrow Grace doubted the sun ever reached the lower windows.
‘You do not have to do this,’ muttered Wolf.
She squared her shoulders. ‘Nonsense. We are agreed.’ She picked up the package beside her. ‘I have brought one of my old gowns that needs mending. It is the perfect excuse for seeking out Annie Meesden.’
Filth and detritus covered the cobbles and blocked the gutter that ran through the centre of the alley. Grace wrinkled her nose, thinking how much worse the place would smell in high summer. A slatternly woman with a baby at her breast was sitting in a doorway and Wolf asked her if she knew of Mrs Meesden.
‘She is a mending woman,’ added Grace, indicating the package in her hand.
