“Thank you, Mr. Billings,” Sabrina said, trading him her cloak—the light-blue one that looked particularly nice with her yellow-and-blue pin-striped walking dress—for the letter.
As soon as she saw Mr. Gordon’s name, her smile fell. He’d expected her to have been in London following her meeting with Mr. Stillman so that he could keep her apprised of his work settling the accounts. What did he think of her not having responded? How had she managed not to think about him at all these last thirty hours or so?
“Is everything all right, Lady Sabrina?” Mr. Billings asked.
She repaired her expression immediately and smiled at him with feigned reassurance. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Billings.”
Sabrina lifted her skirts but did not allow herself to run up the stairs despite her anxiety.
Once she’d closed the door to her apartment behind her, she quickly broke the seal on both letters, determined which had been sent first, and read them in order.
Yesterday’s letter included a report of the notices sent to all of Mr. Stillman’s creditors. By the time Mr. Gordon had written the letter, he’d already heard back from three creditors eager to have their accounts settled. Each had furnished him with a statement confirming the amounts Mr. Stillman had given Lord Damion at their meeting. Mr. Gordon planned to settle those accounts immediately, and he ended by telling her he would send a letter with his updated progress tomorrow—which was now today.
The second note had a very different tone and had been sent that morning.
Lady Sabrina,
A gentleman by the name of Mr. Clarence Ward contacted me early this morning regarding Mr. Stillman, who did not return from his appointment with Lord Damion yesterday. Mr. Ward’s attempts to locate Mr. Stillman have led him to no additional information, which brought him to me, since he was aware of Mr. Stillman’s correspondence.
Mr. Ward is quite anxious about whether or not Mr. Stillman arrived at his appointment and wishes to know where that appointment took place so that he might trace his route that morning. I have assured the man that I will ask Lord Damion on his behalf and relay the information to him as soon as possible. I’ve asked him not to speak with anyone else about this situation.
I shall not move forward on this matter until I hear from you.
Sincerely
G.R. Gordon
Sabrina was pacing by the time Joshua let Mr. Gordon into the parlor of Wimbledon House Tuesday night. She had fretted all day about how to go about this meeting and still feared she’d chosen poorly.
“Joshua, please see that Mr. Gordon and I are not disturbed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The door closed, and Sabrina turned apologetic eyes to the older man she’d known for the better part of a decade. “I am so very sorry to have made you come all this way, Mr. Gordon. I simply did not know how best to manage this meeting.”
They kept to strict rules about their communication. She visited his offices on Garner Street only once a month, a reasonable time frame for an enterprising widow to be updated by her man of business who also worked for a number of wealthy people in the city. All necessary communication between meetings was done via notes sent through messengers. Sometimes weeks would go by without the need to be in contact, and then, such as this last week, there were several notes back and forth as they conferred about a client’s situation. Lord Damion made the decisions, but Mr. Gordon was the contact point. He was also the one who would be watched should someone come snooping.
Fear that Mr. Stillman may have been followed to the Monday meeting, coupled with Mr. Ward’s inquiry about Mr. Stillman’s present location, had left Sabrina paranoid. Mr. Ward may have already asked questions of the wrong person, which could ignite speculation that could invite unwanted attention on Mr. Gordon’s office. They could not meet anywhere else in the city without risking exposure. The only safe way to conduct this meeting was to take it out of London entirely.
Mr. Gordon’s ring of gray hair stuck out in a dozen different directions. “I do not mind the distance as much as I am concerned for your disposition, Lady Sabrina. I have never known you to be quite so worked up.”
Because she had never had such cause. “Mr. Stillman is here,” she said without preamble as though it were a race to get the words out.