Street one day?” He grinned.
Harry shook his head. “She refused to provide her services. Seems she’ll only help women, so I either need to dress as a woman or find a woman to see her and report back to me.”
“There is no chance you could pass for a woman.” Remy laughed, and Dearborn joined in.
Harry cracked a smile as he nodded. “Which means I’ll find someone to help me. Furthermore, she insisted she doesn’t tell the future.”
Remy snorted. “Well, that’s hogwash. What else does a fortune-teller do?”
“Precisely,” Harry said. “But I’ll get to the bottom of her scheme. Then I’ll put a stop to it.”
“I’ve no doubt.” Remy lifted his tankard. “To honesty and lawfulness.”
Harry and Dearborn joined him and repeated the toast.
Yes, he’d find out precisely what Madame Sybila was up to, and then he’d shut her down before she could do real harm to his mother or anyone else. Hopefully, she hadn’t already.
Chapter 2
“He’s been over in front of Somerset House for more than an hour.” Mrs. Kinnon, the owner of The Ardent Rose perfumery, closed the door of Madame Sybila’s small room after stepping inside.
“Thank you for being so observant.” Selina Blackwell set the bonnet over her honey-brown hair and tied the lavender bow beneath her chin.
Mrs. Kinnon blinked, her age-heavy lids briefly obscuring her dark eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”
Selina smiled at the woman she’d known as long as she could remember. “You have always been—and will always be—a wonderful friend.”
Mrs. Kinnon came forward and gently pushed Selina’s hands away from the ribbon. “It’s not straight.” She’d always tried to be a mothering influence since Selina didn’t have one.
“Was he alone?” Selina asked. She’d recognized him from the numerous times she’d walked along Bow Street on her way between her house and the perfumery. He was often in the company of other Runners—either outside the magistrates’ court or in the window of the Brown Bear pub across the street.
“As far as I could tell. But you never know with those Runners. Far too cunning for their own good.”
Indeed, and Selina suspected Harry Sheffield was shrewder than most. She’d expected him to return, though maybe not as quickly as the day after he’d come to see her, and was grateful to have friends looking out for her. It was a strange feeling after so many years of just her and Beatrix, a luxury really.
Apprehension roiled through Selina. She wanted to get out to The Strand and see him for herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Mrs. Kinnon… Well, maybe it was that, at least a little. With the exception of Beatrix, trusting people was hard.
“There.” Mrs. Kinnon stepped back with a satisfied nod. It was astonishing how elegant and respectable she looked now compared with the woman Selina remembered from her youth. Gone was Mrs. Kinnon’s wild, dark hair, replaced by a smooth silver that was always coiled neatly into a knot. And her clothing was impeccable and modest, a far cry from the cheap, coarse gowns she’d sewn for herself, along with the few gowns Selina had owned as a child. “Now you look like the proper lady you’re supposed to be.”
Selina was absolutely not a lady, and she had no notion what she was supposed to be. Dead, probably. The dark turn of her thoughts threatened to paralyze her. But she wouldn’t fall. She couldn’t. She mentally chided herself. Returning to London after so many years was playing havoc with her equilibrium.
As if that’s all it is.
Selina ignored the voice in her head as she picked up her gloves from the table. Her Madame Sybila costume was safely stowed behind the hidden door in the corner that opened to a tiny closet. She’d also draped a curtain over it just to be sure it remained hidden. “Thank you, Mrs. Kinnon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“And Mr. Sheffield as well, I imagine.”
“Probably,” Selina agreed. “I’m not entirely sure what he’s after.”
“His kind don’t like ours.”
“How would he know what ‘kind’ we are?” Selina asked. It wasn’t as if they wore their rookery origins on a sign around their necks.
“As I said, far too cunning.” Mrs. Kinnon tapped her temple with her fingertip.
Perhaps. Selina often attracted skepticism when she portrayed the fortune-teller, but that hadn’t stopped the scheme from being incredibly profitable. Which was precisely what she needed right now if Beatrix was to be a success.
“Be careful when you leave,” Mrs. Kinnon said as Selina went to the door.
She flashed