He shook his head. “But I know who ye are. Ye’re the one—”
A fierce clattering against the cobbles cut through his words. A team of horses pulling a dark coach broke through the fog. He jerked his head toward the sound.
Her pulse raced, but she pulled in a steadying breath. With a subtle movement, Sophie slid her weapon from the bag. She’d keep it out of sight. For now. Surprise would work to her advantage with this towering bloke. With luck, he’d take his leave before the conveyance came upon them, but she’d be prepared for the worst.
The carriage veered around a corner, thundering into the darkness. Blast the luck. She’d get no reprieve. Careful to keep her weapon out of sight, she braced to defend herself.
The pale man swung back around to her. “I’ve been sent for ye.”
“For me?” she scoffed, keeping a tight rein on her tone. Any sign of fear would escalate the danger. “Surely you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“My employer wishes t’meet ye. He knows all about what ye do…about the spirits ye talk to.”
The man’s words bore no threat, but she could not say the same of his cold gaze. Taking a step back to put herself out of arm’s reach, she hiked her chin. “If he wishes a consultation, he may arrange a sitting at the Trask studio on the Strand. Now please, step aside. I must be on my way.”
“I can’t let ye do that, luv.” An ugly twist of his mouth pulled his lips into a leering smile. “My employer means ye no harm. He only wants ye t’talk to the spirits for ’im. He has urgent business.”
Sophie slid her thumb along the length of the pen. Her heart pounded a ragged beat. For months, she’d trained for a moment like this. Removing herself from the scene would be the most prudent course of action. But if the bloke pursued her… Through her agency preparation, she’d become well versed in the techniques that would keep her alive.
Steadying her breath, she met his eyes. “Urgent business? With a being who has gone beyond?” She infused her voice with a scoffing tone. “Spirits shun earthly affairs.”
“Ye can tell him that yerself. He sent me t’bring ye to him.”
Sophie studied him, sorting out her next move. The knife felt weighty in her hand. She’d give the bloke fair warning if he attempted to restrain her. She’d never had to employ a potentially lethal weapon in her own defense. In theory, she possessed the skills she’d need to fend off an assault. But actually plunging the blade into a man’s flesh—that would be a far different matter. If he left her no choice, she’d simply have to push through her revulsion.
The rhythmic tap of boots against the cobbles cut through the heavy silence. A shadowed figure rounded the corner, approaching with a steady gait. In the dim light, she could make out his dark uniform and helmet. Sophie hadn’t expected to spot a constable, but breath released from her lungs as she welcomed his appearance. She slid the knife into her bag. Best to keep it out of the lawman’s sight. It wouldn’t do to raise questions.
Built like a brawler, the patrolman cut an imposing figure. The tall, pale man squirmed, as if he debated whether to cut and run or risk the crunch of the officer’s nightstick against his skull.
The constable stopped mere feet from Sophie. While not a man in his youth, the officer possessed a look of vigor, leaving little doubt of his strength and willingness to use it. He stood silent for a long moment, cocking his head, as he assessed the scene. The weathered lines around his eyes seemed to etch deeper. Good heavens, surely he did not think she was a doxy out to sell her wares to this miserable rotter.
“Is there a problem here, miss?” The constable shifted his gaze to the wiry man. “Anything I should know?”
“’Twas a case of mistaken identity. I thought I knew her.” The pale man’s words came out slowly, betraying no trace of nervousness. A hard gleam in his eyes contradicted his bland tone. The only mistake he’d made that night was allowing himself to be spotted by a lawman. He tipped his bowler hat. “My apologies, miss.”
With that, he stepped from her path. The patrolman blocked his exit.
“Not so fast.” His gaze lit on Sophie. “I’d like to hear your version of events, miss.”
Fashioning her features into a placid expression, Sophie met his inquiring eyes. “There’s no harm done. The gent made an error.” She slanted her gaze to the ruffian. “One that shall not be repeated, I’m sure.”
With a brisk nod, the constable sent the pale man on his way. He turned to Sophie. “Ye’d be wise to stay off these streets this time of night. Ye never know what of sort of fellow ye’ll encounter.”
“Wise words, indeed,” Sophie concurred. Of course, she was well aware of the nature of thefellowshe’d encountered. But she knew better than to let on.
“Ye make yer home around these parts?”
“Yes. I’ve a room at Mrs. O’Brien’s boardinghouse.”
He gave another nod. “I know of the place. I can see ye part of the way while I carry out my patrol.”
The knot in her stomach loosened as she took note of the bobby’s badge. She’d be foolish to entirely trust any man out on these streets, even a man garbed in a constable’s uniform. But to refuse his offer would kindle suspicion she could ill afford. And she’d keep her weapon at the ready.
“Thank you. It is indeed reassuring to have an officer of the law at my side.”
Resuming her crisp strides, Sophie navigated the streets to the boardinghouse. Though little more than a mile from Trask’s office, an aching tension had settled into her bones. How she welcomed the prospect of a warm bed, a good book, and a locked door.
“I need to continue on my patrol, miss. I must leave ye on your way now.” Mild regret laced the constable’s tones. “Ye don’t have far now. If ye encounter any trouble, don’t hesitate to call for help.”
