Now, the idea of wasting time and money searching for treasure seemed ridiculous. She had more important things to worry about, like seeing her mother and sister fed. She’d already sold most of their valuables. How much dare she tell Patience about their finances? Her sister wasn’t an idiot, surely she knew something was wrong. But what if she slipped and told Mama? Still, wasn’t it better that Patience heard the news from Grace rather than John?
Grace paused, there amongst the crowds rushing up and down the footpath, stirring dust into the air, she paused and rested her hand on Patience’s forearm. “There’s something…”
But Patience’s gaze shifted to some point beyond Grace’s shoulder. “Oh my.”
Grace glanced back. “What is it?” She saw nothing out of the ordinary in the many people strolling the streets, or the fancy carriages rolling down the lane.
“Lady Lavender!”
Grace’s mouth fell open. “Where?” Realizing the importance of her little sister’s words, she snapped her head toward Patience. “How do you know the woman?”
“Everyone knows about her. Don’t tell me you don’t?”
Grace latched onto her sister’s hand and dragged her toward a sweet shop front, pressing her back between two dark beams of Tudor style. How many days had she spent wondering what this mysterious woman looked like? She’d only dealt with secretaries and servants. “Tell me everything, right now.”
Patience shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. “Was merely something I’d heard. She’s a woman…who owns a brothel.” Her brows lifted, her excitement almost palpable. “It’s quite daring, don’t you think? A place for women to find the passion they might be missing in the bedchamber.”
Grace resisted the urge to groan. Her sister was placing the woman on a pedestal and even worse, discussing passion and bedchambers? “She is not daring! She’s nothing more than a … a prison keeper.”
Patience flushed, looking away, but Grace could tell her sister thought she was being the prude. “Where was she? Where did you see her?”
“It had to be her, I think.” Patience turned her head, peering past the many storefronts. “It must have been her. She was wearing pale lavender, she always wears the color, you know. So no one else would dare, in fear of being associated with her.”
“Yes, I know,” Grace mumbled, even though she didn’t. She didn’t know anything of the woman. How dare her little sister know more about Lady Lavender than she. Flustered, Grace started down the footpath, dragging Patience along.
“She disappeared into the shop just ahead. And she has ice blonde hair, a petite woman.” She was panting, attempting to run along with Grace’s fast pace. “And…” Deep breath. “And…” Another deep breath. “She is always escorted by men.”
Grace froze. Patience ran into her back.
“Beautiful men.” Patience mumbled into her shoulder.
Beautiful men? Grace spun around, her skirts flaring wide. “Did you see men with her just now?”
She nodded. Slowly Grace turned and peered into the shop. A familiar antiquities shop that she’d visited a few times before. Statues, art, artifacts and jewelry crowded the shelves inside. Usually she’d have her face pressed to the dusty window looking for objects to add to her collection. Now she searched for an entirely new obsession. Was Alex with Lady Lavender? She could see a small group just beyond the shelves, but couldn’t decipher one face from another. She stood on tiptoe, pressing her fingers to the cool glass and attempting to get a better look.
“A dark-haired man,” she murmured. “Did you see a dark-haired man?”
Patience stepped up closer to her, peering through the same window. “Not sure. Why?” And thank heavens, just as soon as she asked the question, she jumped to another. “Do you really think it’s her?”
The group disappeared behind a shelf. Blast! Grace’s fingers curled against the
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