Ghost of the Thames (26 page)

“You are going to introduce me to my
uncle in front of Lord Beauchamp?”

“Yes, and not as Miss Howe of Boston,
but as Miss Catherine Sophia Warren. And I can guarantee that
almost everyone of importance in society who will be in London at
this time of the year is present at that ball.”

Sophy’s mind turned to the events she
has already attended. “But some of those people have already met
me. What will I say to them? And what am I going to say publicly
when I am asked where I have been?”

Angela again looked in the direction
of her companion. “As Hannah will tell you, Dickens’s friendship
has helped me to develop storytelling talents of my own. We will
say that you fell from the deck of your ship and were able to swim
ashore. And as it happened, I came upon you in my carriage . . .
and on and on and on.”

“No one will question her,” Mrs. Brown
said confidently. “Your friend here holds a place in British
society second only to the queen.”

Angela laughed and shushed her
friend.

“But what of the ruse of being the
daughter of Mr. Dickens’s friend?”

“That was done at my request,” Angela
stated, immediately serious again. “To allow you time to recover
and still travel among society.”

“And what if my uncle insists that I
move into his residence?”

“For one thing, as we said, he would
not dare harm you. But more importantly, I will insist that we have
become quite fond of one another, and that you will be remaining
with me as my guest until . . . say, Easter?”

Sophy let out a shaky breath. She knew
she could not allow John Warren to get away with stealing her
inheritance. She had to face him.

Angela’s suggestion seemed to be the
answer.

CHAPTER 30

Sophy glanced into a dark corner of
the room, thinking about how scarce Amelia had become. Still, she
was thankful to her for bringing them together. She looked over at
Edward’s profile. His shirt lay partially open in the front,
exposing the skin of his throat and broad chest. She loved pressing
her lips there and tasting the saltiness of his skin.

After dinner, they'd made love in this
very room. They'd never had time to make it upstairs.

His attention was focused on the fire.
His demons had returned. She wanted to reach up and smooth the
lines of concern that were again etched in his face.

“
Before we were distracted
tonight, I was telling you about the clothing I was
wearing.”

“Distracted?” he asked, a glint of
humor in his eyes.

“All right. Before I decided to seduce
you,” she corrected, moving away from him on the sofa so that she
could face him. “We were talking about the men’s clothing--most
likely some sailor’s shirt and pants--that I was wearing when you
found me.”

He reached down and lifted her
slippered feet onto his lap.

“They might provide some clue about
what happened,” she continued.

“Perhaps. Why do you think you were
wearing those things?”

“It could be that I knew I wouldn’t
fare too well, arriving on shore in the middle of the night dressed
like a woman. Never mind that it is far more difficult to swim in
layers and layers of material that women wear.”

Edward nodded, considering it. Sophy
was happy to have his attention. She was also glad that he did not
lecture her on how many flaws were in that plan, including the fact
that wearing men’s clothing was hardly enough to make her look like
a man.

She hurried on. “I have been talking
to Mrs. Perkins about Amelia and what she was wearing the night she
left.”

He put the glass of wine down and
turned toward her. “Go on.”

“She chose the oldest dress in her
closet, apparently, and she borrowed an old cloak from one of the
servants. We now know she left every piece of her mother’s jewelry
behind, including the cross and chain that was her favorite. On her
person she had only enough money to hire a carriage and very little
more.”

“Did Amelia tell you any of this?” he
asked.

“No. I wish things were so simple,”
she admitted. “She always comes to me with a purpose. Perhaps she
tries to communicate with me, on occasion, in other ways. I need to
pay closer attention, I think.”

“Perhaps.” He paused. “Why this
fascination with what she was wearing that night.”

“It might help us to discover where
she was going,” Sophy suggested. “She left the house with Henry
Robinson; that we know.”

“And they have never been seen
again.”

“Yes, but why would she dress that
way?”

Edward shook his head.

“Taking tea with Mr. Reeves and Mrs.
Perkins tonight, I asked them to tell me every little detail they
remembered of that day. Everything from what Amelia was doing
before Henry arrived to what her plans were for the following day
or the following week. I asked if any of her friends had called
that morning or the day before. And I asked them what Henry said
when he was here and how he behaved.”

It was obvious she had piqued his
interest. “I have to confess, this is more than I ever
asked.”

“I’m a woman. I know how our minds
work,” she said softly. “I know the popular opinion is that young
women are thoughtlessly romantic and impulsive. But for all that,
there is a certain degree of seriousness that accompanies any
decision as life-altering as eloping.”

“Though I have hoped, in a way, that
she is safely married somewhere, I know that she was not one to
elope. That would not be her way.”

“Going off in that old cloak and
dress, and carrying almost no money or jewelry tell us she was
going to a place nearby—in London, to be sure—a place she thought
would not be safe.”

“I have searched the most wretched
slums of London,” he told her. “Nothing has turned up. But I cannot
believe Henry Robinson would expose her to danger. It makes no
sense.”

“What about Henry Robinson?” Sophy
asked. “When had he arrived on shore?”

“The same morning that he came here,”
Edward answered.

“Mr. Reeves tells me he asked for you
when he came to the door.”

"He would do that even if he was here
for the purpose of meeting Amelia."

Sophy nodded. “But Amelia ran into him
by chance. She arrived home just when Reeves was speaking to him.
She invited him inside. Mrs. Perkins said she served them tea in
this very room. The two of them were alone here, talking together
for only fifteen or twenty minutes. In fact, Henry Robinson left
before they’d even finished their tea.”

“I know all of this. But he didn’t
really leave,” Edward said. “The footmen told me he returned in
just a few minutes and waited in front in a hired
carriage.”

“Yes, and in the meantime, Amelia was
busy changing into old clothing and tucking her jewelry away,”
Sophy said, trying to relay everything she put together after
speaking to the butler and housekeeper. “Mrs. Perkins told me that
she asked Amelia where she was going. Your niece was deliberately
vague. But she was definite in saying that she would return in time
for a late supper, however.”

“Amelia was always too polite and
considerate to cause extra work. She would have found an excuse not
to keep the household waiting if she thought she wasn’t coming
back.”

“That is what Mrs. Perkins believes,
too.”

“So where would the two of them go?”
he asked.

“Somewhere that Henry
wanted to take
you
,” Sophy told him. “We know he came here looking for
you
.”

Edward thought about that. “If he had
a question, or a concern about something that happened aboard his
ship.”

“Where was that ship?”

“Deptford. The ship moored that
morning at the Royal Dockyard in Deptford.”

Suddenly, Amelia appeared in the
corner of the room.

“Oh!” Sophy came to her feet, but the
apparition disappeared as quickly as it came. For a moment she
wondered if Amelia had ever been there, or whether it was her
imagination.

“What is it?” Edward asked, standing
and following her gaze to the empty corner.

“We have to go,” she said, taking hold
of his arm.

Edward glanced at the clock. “It’s
nearly two. Where are we going?”

“Deptford. To the Royal
Dockyard.”

CHAPTER 31

He knew better than to doubt
her.

The easiest way to reach the Royal
Dockyard was to take a carriage to Limehouse and try to find a
riverman willing—or hungry enough—to take them by boat. Depending
on the tide, they might have some luck.

As Sophy hurried to change her
clothes, Edward arranged for his driver and two footmen to get
ready. He wanted to have as much protection for her as possible
without bringing too much attention to themselves. He also sent
another man ahead to search the taverns and see if he could get the
name of someone with a boat who would take them across the
river.

Reeves appeared as Edward was pulling
on his boots. He explained to the butler where they were going and
how he planned to get there.

“Is it safe, Captain, to take Miss
Sophy with you?”

Edward couldn’t say anything of what
Sophy had told him about seeing Amelia’s ghost. This had been their
agreement. “She has made up her mind to go with me.”

“I have noticed she does have a mind
of her own.”

“And I
will
take a good care of her, I
promise.”

Sophy was downstairs and ready to go
sooner than Edward could have expected. Reeves pleaded with her
directly to wait until morning before going out.

“It would be best to go now. There is
less chance of anyone following,” she said reassuringly to the
butler.

“I believe Amelia approves of where we
are going,” she whispered to Edward as they were climbing into his
carriage.

“Have you seen her again?”

“I told you that I saw her briefly in
the study at the very moment that you mentioned the dockyard. When
I was upstairs, she appeared to me again.”

“Did she say anything?”

“No. Again her presence was fleeting,
but she was definitely there.”

“Did she give you any
sign?”

Sophy took his hand in hers and looked
into his eyes. “The night that you took me back to the Isle of
Dogs, she appeared to me half a dozen times before she told me what
I should do.”

It was so difficult to accept a notion
that none of his senses recognized. Every time Amelia’s name was
mentioned, Edward was ready to ask dozen questions. Like a wounded
man led in the dark, he had to be patient and trust his
guide.

The riverside district north of
Millwall was known as Limehouse Hole. The area stretched southward
from the parish boundary to the south West India Dock entrance
lock, and inland along Garford Street, a narrow lane lined with
humble, ramshackle dwellings and shops. This was the area where
many dockworkers and watermen lived.

The footman Edward had sent off
earlier was waiting for them, as directed, at the top of Limehouse
Hole Stairs. A bent, gray-bearded riverman stood with him, a
tattered blanket pulled around him like a shawl. The weather had
taken a turn for worse since they’d left Berkeley
Square.

Edward left Sophy in the carriage
first and spoke to the riverman—giving him directions as to where
they intended to go.

Seeing Edward’s money, he said
cheerfully, “Oy’ll a row ye to France ‘erself, if ye wisht
it.”

By the time Edward went back to get
Sophy, the wind was blowing so hard that it slammed the door of the
carriage shut on her before she could step out. He tried not to
think of it as a sign.

An ancient lamp on a corner building
flickered and shop signs groaned, swinging back and forth. They
started down the stairs from the street, and he tried to shield her
from the driving spray of water from the river. As they went down
the slick stone stairs to a wooden pier he could barely see through
the worsening weather, her hand clutched tightly to his
arm.

Some five years ago, watermen trying
to recover business lost to the growing number of steamboats had
erected a floating pier at the bottom of the Limehouse Hole Stairs.
That was where their man had his boat.

“We can postpone this until tomorrow
night,” he told her over the wind.

“No, she is with us. I saw her again,”
she told him.

Edward scanned the stormy river, the
dark buildings and boats lining the bank. There was no sign of any
other vessel out on the water. He decided that two of his footmen
would accompany them on the boat.

The tide, which had turned an hour
before, was running in their favor. Edward seated Sophy where she
had a clear view of where they were headed. He sat near her as the
riverman picked up the oars and pushed the vessel into the
current.