Blood for Ink (The Scarlet Plumiere Series #1) by L.L. Muir Read Free Book Online Page B

someone recognizing this carriage when I arrive at my destination. Trust me on this.”
    “But, my lady—”
    “No buts about it, John. Wait for me here.”
    John did not wait, however. He abandoned the carriage to accompany her to the hack, then paid the man.
    “Thank you, John,” she said as he helped her into the hack.
    “Hopkins will have my head in a basket. Just see if he don’t, my lady.” And with that, he closed the door.
    The hired driver opened the hatch. "Where to, Miss?”
    The street on which The Journal was located was particularly congested that day. Whether or not that congestion was usual, she could not say. The last time she had set foot inside the building she had been clutching that first letter in her hand and a prayer in her heart that she might find someone inside those doors willing to help her.
    Traffic came to a complete stop and those memorable doors still a half-block away. It was such a cold day she was not even tempted to walk, even if she had had the nerve to do so. She reached for the window, conceding a breath of cold air might bolster her courage a bit. Beyond the glass, a man sat on the steps outside The Journal, holding up a paper, as if reading, but avidly watching the crowd instead. Not far from him, a man leaned against a pillar, acting in much the same manner. Were they watching for her? Was she incredibly vain to think such a thing?
    A woman started up the steps and three men came to attention, the two she had noticed, and a third young man who stood near the roadside, presumably to earn a coin by holding horses. But he was not watching for customers; he was watching the lady. With his head, the man on the steps gestured for the young man to follow her. The boy had taken only a few steps when another man caught up to the woman and took her elbow—likely her husband. The boy fell back to his post.
    Dear heavens! They were watching for a lone woman. A woman like her! She could not go inside now, no matter if the trio might only be a band of pick-pockets and not spies sent by the Earl of Northwick. And she certainly could not trust anyone to deliver the letter for her. There was too much at risk—her work, her very life! Better for her to just go home and stew in her anger until her usual messenger could come for her letter. She only trusted him because the lad worked for Lady Malbury. No doubt he believed Lady Malbury was carrying on an affair with Papa.
    The hack lurched forward and she moved back against the seat, watching the watchers as she neared the wide set of steps and suddenly, the hack stopped! She’d forgotten to tell the driver she had changed her mind!
    All three men turned their heads. The young one, near the road, tried to see into the depths. He seemed to look directly into her eyes! The hack shook. The driver was there in an instant, opening her door, holding out a gloved hand. The boy moved close, tilting his head one way, then another.
    “My lady?” The driver peeked inside.
    “No! I have changed my mind,” she whispered loudly.
    “Eh?”
    “Take me back. This instant!”
    The boy lunged for the door as it snapped shut. She held onto the handle as if her very life depended upon her ability to do so. The hack rocked wildly as the driver mounted, nearly pulling the handle out of her grasp. Still the boy tried to open the door.
    “Dear Lord, help me!”
    “‘Ere, now. Get away from there. That’s a lady inside.”
    The driver’s whip descended with a whack. The pulling ceased. But suddenly the boy’s face was against the window. She quickly turned her head away. The hack lurched forward and the boy disappeared.
    Had he seen her? Would he recognize her again? Could he describe her to someone—say, Mr. Lott?
    The driver’s voice came from a small hole in the roof. "My lady, be warned. That lad still follows. I cannot get away from ‘im in this ‘ere crowd, y’ see.”
    “I understand,” she called out, assuming the driver would hear.
    “Do you