Your apprentices learn how to fit locks . . .”
His eyes narrowed, and she had the sense he was furiously angry. “Cora Arbuthnot ought to keep her mouth closed, and the same for the blabbering fool who put that word in her ear. Surely you don’t think my lads would do such a thing?”
“No!” She lowered her voice until it was barely audible. “But perhaps it is something to prepare for. If she’s telling the matrons of Edinburgh . . . well, people may start to suspect you. Mrs. Crawley was there, and she’ll tell everyone in town.”
“’Tis arrant nonsense, and I’ll not dignify it with a response.” He relented at her expression. “Forgive me, Ilsa. I swear to you on your mother’s grave, I had nothing to do with this thieving.”
She exhaled in unspeakable relief. “I knew you couldn’t have. But why—?”
“People will say anything when they feel the hangman’s rope tightening about their necks.” He patted her hand. “You heard the story that there was a pitched battle on the docks at Leith, no? Complete with a cavalry charge and cannon. Twaddle.” He made a face of disdain.
“But if people believe it . . .” She faltered. “Don’t let them drag you to the hangman, Papa, just because people have lost their heads.”
“Aye, you’re right. Edinburgh wants to hang someone. Too many robberies, too many losses over too many months.”
“But you’ve been worried,” she began.
Her father’s mouth eased. “Not for myself, and not on this matter. A man who used to work for me has been locked in the Tolbooth. I’m going to see him now. John Lyon is a good lad. His mother begged me to look in on him, fearful he’s fallen in with scoundrels. If I can save him from the gibbet, I must make an effort, aye?” He looked away from her. “He’s not even your age, child. A young man with a wife and a babe on the way.”
She took a calmer breath. “Of course. You must try to help him.” She didn’t remember John Lyon but she could picture his type: a young wright trying to support his family, falling prey to a scoundrel in the numerous taverns and gaming pits around town. It didn’t take much to trip up a man.
Her father bade her go home and not to worry about him. Feeling much better, Ilsa did. She avoided her aunt, who was pestering Mr. MacLeod to physically bar every door and window now that the thieves might have keys. To avoid an argument about safety she stayed in that evening. After the alarm she’d given herself today, a quiet night had some appeal.
But in the morning, a grim-faced officer from the sheriff-clerk knocked on her door. Papa was gone from Edinburgh.
Chapter Twenty-One
That day was the beginning of a nightmare from which she couldn’t wake. Jean sent the sheriff’s officers away with a flea in their ear, but when she closed the door on them, she looked at Ilsa with worry in her eyes.
“My dear, did you know William was leaving?”
“No,” Ilsa exclaimed. “As I told the officers.”
Jean nibbled her lip, a shocking sign of distress for her. “They will discover the ladies were here yesterday. They will think we warned him of something.”
Ilsa swallowed. “I told him what they said—and he denied everything, Aunt. Categorically.”
The older woman stiffened. “Naturally he did! William would never engage in such behavior!”
Ilsa nodded and didn’t say what she was thinking: But he secretly fled town within hours.
The newspapers exploded with wild and lurid charges against Papa, not only of the robberies but of every sordid thing a man could do: lewd behavior at the raucous Cape Club, rumors of multiple mistresses, tales of ruinous gambling at the cockpits, and more than one charge of cheating.
It was as if the entire town had been simply bursting for this chance to destroy William Fletcher. His name entirely eclipsed those of the two common thieves actually under lock and key.
Agnes and her sisters visited, and loyally proclaimed they didn’t believe a word of it.
“If I were unjustly accused, I would go into hiding until I could clear my name,” was Winnie’s confident assertion.
Agnes nodded. “He’s surely gathering proof of his innocence, to silence every chattering biddy in this town. Have faith, Ilsa.”
She managed to smile. “I do.”
“If only Drew would return,” burst out Bella, ignoring the furious motion Agnes made at her. “He would put a quick end to this nonsense.” She noticed her sister’s agitation. “What?