Night Storm (25 page)

“We’ll see.”

“Here we are.” Jules sidled up to their table and waved a member of his kitchen staff, who carried a large tray, forward. He lifted an ornate silver lid and sniffed the air. “Beefsteak and shallots, roasted leg of lamb, spinach with croutons,
broccoli à l’italienne
, and apple and barberry tart.”

“Goodness,” Charlotte said, eyeing the plate he set in front of her. “A small sandwich and a cup of tea would have been fine.”

Jules shuddered. “Not at the Mirador.”

“Everything smells delicious. Won’t you join us?”

He grasped the back of an empty chair. “Thank you, I—”

“Jules is always busy at this time of day,” Cameron cut in, his silver-blue eyes steady on his friend.

“Umm, yes.” Jules removed his hand from the chair. “Precisely what I was about to say. I’ll leave the two of you to enjoy your meal. Henry is stationed just over there.” He motioned to a blond-haired young man near a sideboard. “Wave him down if you need anything further.” To Cameron, he said, “I need a moment of your time before you escort Charlotte home.”

Cameron nodded, and Jules strode away.

Incredulous, Charlotte whirled on Cameron. “I thought you brought me here to see Jules. Why did you send him away?”

“Our good friend was only part of the surprise. Now that you saw him, it’s time to enjoy the last part of my surprise.”

“And that would be?”

“A meal by one of the best chefs in London.”

She took in the bounty before them, shaking her head. “Are all the meals here this lavish?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“It’s a wonder you don’t weigh twenty stone, eating this way every day.”

“I’ve learned not to give Jules free rein. I tend to order exactly what I want.”

“Why didn’t you do that this time?”

“Despite Jules’s earlier comment about his guests, he enjoys pampering them, especially those who might not have been pampered in awhile.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Do you suppose I have not?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” He pointed his chin toward her plate. “Only Jules’s opinion matters when it comes to food.”

“In this, I won’t complain about his—or your—supposition. I’m going to savor every morsel. However, there was no need to send him away. I would have been interested in hearing what he’s been up to.”

They ate in silence for a time, deep in their own thoughts and taking pleasure in the evening’s fare.

After swallowing her last forkful of tart, Charlotte broached another topic on her mind. “The other night, when you came to me injured, what happened?” She knew it wasn’t wise to learn more about him, but she couldn’t seem to hold back the dangerous questions.

He swiped the napkin over his mouth. “I thought you didn’t want to know.”

“My curiosity appears to be stronger than my good sense.”

He grinned. “Troublesome, isn’t it?”

“Quite.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Then it shouldn’t take you too long to relay the information.”

“I’m beginning to see the appeal of this forceful side of your nature, Charley,” he murmured. “A short time ago, Lord Freeman hired me to locate a rare manuscript stolen from his home. On the night of my trouncing”—he rubbed his shoulder as if reliving the event—“I was on my way to question a gentleman who I’d been told had information about the theft.”

“Do you believe the gentleman you were going to question had anything to do with your attack?”

“It’s possible, though I won’t know for sure one way or another until I find him.”

“I take it he went missing after the attack?”

He nodded. “I sent one of my associates to go see the fellow, either to warn him of danger or make him pay—” He cut off, his face tightening. “By the time my associate arrived, he had disappeared.”

Carefully, Charlotte asked, “How many times have you been attacked in the course of your duties?”

“More than I can count. Most of the time, my assailants are trying to flee discovery and inflict only minor damage. This was the first time someone went on the offensive.”

“Is the money worth it?”

“Yes.” He took a sip of his wine.

“No hesitation.”

“None.”

“I recall a time when you would have been content to live comfortably, rather than extravagantly.”

“Not anymore.” When he made to set his wineglass down, the stem caught the edge of his plate and clanged loudly in the air. “Too many times I’ve seen how one catastrophe can devastate a good hardworking family. In order to survive this city, a man needs blunt, a fair sum of it.” He tossed his napkin onto the table, finished with his meal. “I won’t return to the gutter. Ever.”

Although her family’s financial circumstances had been better than his, she understood his commitment to avoiding poverty. She still recalled the early days of her childhood, when her parents’ businesses were new and struggling and they had to make a pot of stew stretch out for days. She remembered Cameron wearing the same garments, day after day, until he either outgrew them or they fell apart. She understood—she just wasn’t certain she approved of his methods of accumulating wealth. Though, in all honesty, she didn’t have a great deal of detail about what he actually did for a living to really be able to judge.

“How well do you know Sydney Hunt?” she asked.

Her change in topic drew him up short. “Well enough to know I can trust her. Why do you ask?”

“After the horrible incident with Mick O’Donnell, I asked her about your presence there.”

His voice turned hard. “Did she tell you his death was my fault?”

“Not at all. In fact, she recounted your role in bringing, or rather dragging, Mr. O’Donnell back to the agency so that he could relay a message to his brother.”

The tension in his face eased. “O’Donnell was much-loved by Sydney and her associates. Hell, even
I
liked the Irishman, though I don’t think the feeling was mutual. Sydney took his death hard. No matter what she said to you, she—and the others—felt I should have done more to save him. Maybe I should have. Probably would have if they would have given me more information.”

“If it makes you feel better, Sydney did have other, more colorful things to say about you.”

“Like what?”

“Evidently, you’re the most ruthless person she knows.” She waited for him to deny Sydney’s accusation. He did not. “And the most talented when it comes to finding things.”

“I like to think of myself as determined and focused.”

“A far cry from ruthless, wouldn’t you say? Sydney’s description made it sound like you’d do whatever it took to achieve your goals.”

“As I said, determined and focused.” He paused a moment. “And Sydney’s description would be correct—as evidenced by my desire to speak with Felix.”

Frustration settled deep into Charlotte’s bones. She understood no more about his methods now than she did five minutes ago. Deciding it was time to end their charade of friendship, she set her napkin aside. “It’s time for me to go home. I have much yet to do tonight and a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

“Can’t your assistant watch over the shop while you get a few hours’ rest?”

Charlotte checked her timepiece. Four o’clock. “No. She has the responsibility of watching over her younger sister until her mother comes home from work. If a client arrives late to a fitting right before closing, Mrs. Scott could be delayed hours later than normal. Besides, I would not want to ask it of Piper without giving her advance notice. Unless it was an emergency, of course. This is not.”

“Still considering others’ comfort before your own, Charley? Perhaps you should rip a page out of my book and take care of yourself first.”

His words said one thing, but his glittering silver eyes said another. “I don’t think I’m ready for such single-minded behavior yet.” She brushed a few crumbs from her skirts. “Thank you for the meal and the lovely surprise.”

Cameron made a motion to Henry, which she interpreted as,
Go get our coats.
The young man nodded and scampered away. “I’ll escort you home.”

“There’s no need. I’ll ask Henry to hail a hansom cab for me.” Pushing back her chair, she rose and Cameron followed suit.

“I’ll take you.”

“Cameron—”

“Do not argue with me on this. I will not be able to sleep unless I know you’re safely behind your shop’s door.”

She relented, mostly because she could not think of a good reason to refuse his courtesy. But she would mourn the loss of her alone time. Time to evaluate all that had happened at Winthrop’s, time to agonize over what she should have said to Cameron during their various discussions. Time to prepare for the day’s work ahead, when all she would like to do was lay her head down and sleep for hours and hours.

Cameron rested his large palm on her lower back, and she could swear she felt the heat of his skin through her layers of clothing and stiff corset. He guided her toward the door in silence. Within seconds of them reaching the main lobby, Henry appeared bearing their coats and hats. Cameron took their outerwear from the young man and flipped him a coin.

“Thank you, Henry. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Gardner how well you took care of us.”

Henry’s thin face lit with pleasure. “Thank you, sir. Are you hiring a cab or walking?”

“A cab, please.”

Henry rushed outside.

After assisting Charlotte with her coat, Cameron gestured to the exit Henry had just torn through. No sooner had she stepped outside when Jules called out, “Adair, do you have a moment?”

Cameron glanced down at her. “I promised I’d speak with him before we left. Come back inside for a few minutes?”

“You don’t need me lingering nearby while the two of you are having a private conversation. I’ll wait inside the carriage.”

To Jules, he said, “Give me a second to settle Charley.”

She stopped him in his tracks with a hand to his chest. “I’m not an infant, Cameron. I can manage the thirty paces from here to the cab. Henry can assist me inside.”

He glanced between her and the edge of the pavement as if checking her measurement. “Promise me that you won’t leave.”

Clenching her teeth, she said, “You do realize I’ve taken care of myself quite successfully over the last five years.”

Tension rippled along his jawline. “Of course. But as far as I’m aware, you’ve never stumbled across a murder victim before.”

She removed her hand. “Certainly not.”

“Then allow me to take special precautions until the killer is found.”

“What type of precautions?”

“The kind that will keep you safe—and alive.”

“Surely you don’t believe the murderer will come after me next.”

“I don’t know what he will or won’t do.” He slid the palm of his hand over his face. “Since you insisted on helping the coroner, you’re now far more involved than having, by mere chance, discovered a dead body. As I mentioned before, the killer, if he’s observing the aftermath of his handiwork, might direct a portion of his attention onto you now. And perhaps the Scotts.”

Fingers of anxiety clutched around her heart. Even with Cameron’s dire warning, she hadn’t wanted to consider the consequences of participating in the medical exam. All she’d been focused on was learning more about Lady Winthrop’s murder and clearing Felix’s name. Still, she had no idea how to free Felix from suspicion.

Now, she would have to worry about how her decision would affect Piper and Felix. If anything happened to them because of the choices she had made, she would never forgive herself. In the meantime, she would accept Cameron’s company until she could pull herself out of this mess. “I’ll wait for you in the cab.”

He raised a brow, waiting.

She sighed. “I give you my word I will not leave.”

Evidently, she passed his trust test, for he turned on his heel and headed back inside the hotel. Charlotte barely made it ten steps before a slimy voice asked, “One wonders what sort of business a young, respectable, pretty woman would have at the Mirador Hotel?”

Ice trickled down Charlotte’s spine, even while she cursed Cameron for delaying her a minute too long. Slowly, she angled her head around until Lawrence Hermann came into view. Smug smile and all. She could hear her precious rights to use the Physic Garden slipping from her grasp.

She prayed he hadn’t noticed her conversing with Cameron. Hermann already believed the worst, just seeing her exit the hotel. If he linked her with Cameron, he’d have something specific to latch on to. Something that would be extremely difficult for her to explain away to the warden.

“Mr. Hermann, how unexpected to find you here.”

“The same could be said of you.” He peered through the window, into the hotel’s lobby.

Could he see Cameron inside? If so, would he recognize him as the same gentleman he’d seen her speaking to in the garden? She didn’t dare follow his gaze for fear he’d see the truth written across her face. Over the years, she’d learned to mask her emotions in order to protect a patient’s fragile feelings. But this was different.

A volatile mix of anger, alarm, desperation, and yes, attraction and chagrin—for Cameron, not Hermann—swirled around inside her like a great destructive wave. Her palm still tingled where it had rested against Cameron’s chest. She rolled her fingers into a fist.

“Are you on your way to the hall?” she asked in as casual a voice as she could muster.

“Actually, no. Or at least, I wasn’t. But now I feel an urge to have a long chat with the warden.”

Pompous weasel of a man.

“Well, then, I had best be on my way.” Somehow she kept her farewell words steady. “Good day, Mr. Hermann.” She marched over to where Henry awaited her and set her hand over the young man’s palm.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Hermann whispered sharply, not far from her ear, making her flinch.

She whipped around and found him even closer than she’d estimated. “What are you talking about?”

“Your garden pet. You left him behind in the hotel.”

Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath and nearly choked on the fumes of decay that followed. She stepped back, trying to put some distance between her and his foul breath. “I have no idea to what you are referring.”