Wolf rose. He nodded to Grace, not trusting himself to go near her. Then he turned and gripped his brother’s hand. ‘Do what you can for me, Richard, and you had best engage another lawyer with all speed!’
* * *
Grace pulled her veil over her face and accompanied Richard Arrandale from the building. Her legs felt very weak and she was relieved when they were once more sitting in the carriage with Lady Phyllida. The sight of Wolf, unshaven, his eyes troubled and still wearing his bloody evening clothes, had shaken her to the core. Until then his predicament as a wanted man had seemed a distant threat, but as they drove away her eyes were drawn upwards to the roof of the prison and the black timbers of the scaffold, outlined against a lowering sky.
‘We cannot let him hang.’
She did not realise she had spoken the words aloud until Richard replied.
‘He won’t, you need not worry about that. The Arrandales have had plenty of practice at cheating the gallows.’ When her eyes flew to his face he added quickly, ‘We will do the thing by fair means, if we can, but if not—’
She put up her hand.
‘Please, do not tell me anything more.’
‘I agree,’ said Phyllida. ‘Pray do not burden us with unnecessary conjecture, Richard.’ She turned to Grace. ‘Would you like to go back to Hans Place now? We can collect your gown for you, if you would rather not be mixed up further in this affair.’
Grace clasped her hands together and stared out of the window, but all she could see was Wolf’s haunted eyes.
‘I do not have any choice,’ she murmured, almost to herself. ‘I must see this through.’
* * *
They drove quickly to Half Moon Street to speak to Wolf’s valet and then went on to Leg Alley. It was just as grim and daunting as it had appeared at Grace’s first visit. Richard insisted his wife remain in the carriage while he and Grace picked their way through the rubbish to the house. The door was closed, but Richard’s firm rap upon the weathered boards brought a plump, sharp-eyed woman in a grubby apron to open it. She declared she was the landlady and demanded to know their business.
‘I have come to collect a gown from Mrs Meesden,’ Grace explained.
The woman shook her head.
‘She’s dead. Murdered.’ She said it with such relish that Grace did not have to feign her look of horror.
‘Good heavens, when was this?’
‘Last night. She went off to Vauxhall with her man friend and never came back. He’s been arrested for her murder.’
Richard’s brows went up. ‘The fellow came here?’
The landlady leaned against the wall and folded her arms.
‘Aye. I told the constables as much. He called late in the afternoon and they stayed upstairs ’til about nine o’clock.Shesaid she had work to finish, but if you ask me they was carousing, for she was so drunk she could hardly get down the stairs when they left. He almost carried her out.’
‘How dreadful, but I should still like to retrieve my gown,’ said Grace. ‘It is a yellow muslin with green embroidery at the hem. Perhaps I might step in and look for it?’
Richard held out a coin. ‘I assure you, madam, we want only to collect the lady’s property.’
The landlady’s hand darted out to take the coin.
‘Aye, well, I don’t suppose it will do any harm if I takes you up there now.’
She waddled away and they followed her up to Annie Meesden’s tiny room. Grace tried to take in as much detail as possible. It looked more untidy than she remembered, a chair was tipped over and on the table stood two glasses and an almost empty bottle that Richard picked up and held to his nose.
‘Was the lady in the habit of drinking brandy?’
‘Not that I knew of. If she had been I’d have sent her packing long ago. This is a respectable house.’
‘And the man who came to see her, was he a regular visitor?’ he asked.
‘Never seen him before, but then I don’t see everyone who comes and goes. As long as my tenants is quiet and pays their rent I don’t interfere.’
