The Mystery Woman (Ladies of Lantern Str - By Amanda Quick Page 0,14

not escape. It was the knowledge that his sister, Hannah, and his nephew, Nelson, depended on him that made him turn away from the sight of the swirling waters at the foot of the cliffs every afternoon.

His carefully orchestrated life had come to a crashing halt, however, when he had received the telegram from Nelson.

Please come to London immediately. Mother needs you.

There was only one force still powerful enough to pry him from his own private hell, Joshua thought, the same force that made it impossible for him to seek oblivion in opium or the sea—his responsibility to his family. For the first time in nearly a year he had a mission to carry out.

He had planned to spend a week or two in London dealing with the problem and then retreat once again into seclusion. But the case, which had appeared simple and straightforward at the start, was proving to be far more complicated and infinitely more intriguing than he had anticipated. In spite of his aching leg he felt invigorated and refreshed. Finding Beatrice Lockwood tonight had acted like a tonic for his spirits.

He had set out to snare a shady little adventuress who obviously had a history of living by her wits only to discover that she was not entirely what she seemed. The stocking gun she had used to stop Euston was only one of several intriguing and unexpected surprises tonight.

By the time he had tracked her down to the agency in Lantern Street he had been well aware that the appearance of fey innocence that Beatrice affected was a tribute to her talents as an actress and no doubt served her well in her new career as a Flint & Marsh agent. But he knew that whatever innocence she had once possessed had long ago been stripped away. As a woman alone in the world she was solely responsible for her own safety and survival. In such situations one did what was necessary. He understood and respected that. He certainly did not blame her if she had slipped off the pedestal now and again. He admired the fact that her spirit was still a bright, fierce flame.

Her survival instincts were obviously very much alive, which only made her risky defense of her client tonight all the more astonishing. True, he knew that the paid companions supplied by the firm of Flint and Marsh were an unusual lot. Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh were, after all, an unusual pair. Nevertheless, one did not expect a woman like Beatrice—a female who, among other things, had pursued a career as a fraudulent psychical practitioner and then proceeded to blackmail some of her clients—to come to the rescue of others. When there was danger afoot, most intelligent people—male or female, regardless of their backgrounds—managed to make themselves scarce. It was not as though Beatrice had not done exactly that on a prior occasion, he thought. She had vanished from Dr. Fleming’s Academy of the Occult following the murder of her employer.

All of which raised new questions about what had really happened the night Fleming died. Morgan at the Yard and the sensation press were convinced that Beatrice had killed her employer, stolen the night’s ticket receipts and taken off for parts unknown. But Joshua had been unconvinced of the merits of that assumption from the start. Now he sensed that his instincts had been correct. Whatever had occurred on the night of Roland Fleming’s death, the murder had not been a simple, straightforward matter of robbery.

Henry brought the carriage to a halt in front of one of the most prestigious clubs in St. James. Joshua gathered up his cane, hat and gloves. Setting his jaw against the pain he knew was coming, he opened the door of the cab, gripped the handhold and used the iron step to descend to the pavement.

Gone were the days when he could jump nimbly out of a vehicle and land with athletic ease, he reflected. Even Euston, still groggy after the short period of unconsciousness, had managed to alight more elegantly after being tossed out of the cab.

Joshua consigned Euston and his own past to hell and went up the steps of the club. An elderly porter materialized out of the front hall to block his path.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Joshua took the envelope containing one of the old calling cards from his pocket and handed it to the porter. “I have a message for Lord Allenby. Please give this to him immediately