“Something like that,” Deborah rasped, her throat raw from all the sobbing she’d done on her long walk over.
“I will not stand for any of that sort of business in this house, you hear? I run a clean, good establishment for good girls,” Mrs. Kilborn replied sharply.
“I understand,” Deborah answered quickly. “You will not have any trouble from me, Mrs. Kilborn, I assure you. Any chores you give me I will complete with haste. Any rules you give, I will respect. But please, if you have a room to spare, give it to me. I am most weary from the day and need to rest.”
Mrs. Kilborn’s beady stare did not flinch for a long moment, even after Deborah’s gaze dropped to the floor. Finally, though, the matron released Deborah’s jaw and held out her hand. Deborah deposited the small sack of coins into her palm, and with a huff, Mrs. Kilborn stepped away.
“Follow me then,” Mrs. Kilborn stiffly replied. “We have an empty room upstairs. Not to say that it is a private suite, mind you, we got none of those here. Another girl comes in needing a bed she’ll be given the one in your room and there will be nothing you can do about it.”
Deborah merely nodded as she followed Mrs. Kilborn toward the stairs.
“You say you know the rules, but I am going to give them to you anyway…”
Deborah barely heard Mrs. Kilborn as she explained meal times, curfews, chore distribution, and the strict no-man policy the matron had for the house. She merely murmured her understanding as she was led to a simple but clean room with two small beds. There was not much in the way of furnishings other than that. A wash stand, a bureau, and a small table with a single lamp on it.
It was vastly different from her rooms at the Calder Houses, and the startling contrast of such sent another blast of pain hard into Deborah’s chest. She told herself it did not matter. That she did not need luxury to work on her plan, she just needed space and freedom to figure it out.
“Not what you are used to, is it?” Mrs. Kilborn chuffed behind her. “Those fancy clothes of yours, I wager you come from somewhere you are pampered. Well, let me tell you, girl, you won’t be havin’ any of that in this house.”
Her sorrow growing into irritation, Deborah turned to Mrs. Kilborn with narrowed eyes and raised chin.
“I am not asking for anything more than what you give your other girls,” she tersely replied, “I will adhere to your rules and not bring shame to your house. Now, if you please, I need a moment to get settled. If you give me that, I will be down shortly, and I will take on any chores you assign me.”
Mrs. Kilborn looked as if she had a reprimand ready to hurl off her tongue, but then the woman’s composure relaxed, and she gave a single nod.
“Hurry up then,” she replied brusquely.
Deborah waited until the matron had closed the door behind her, then went to her luggage for her notebook. Taking a seat on the small, hard bed, she read through the dated notes she kept on Sylvester. A half hour later, she let out a sigh of frustration, thinking that she had found nothing yet again. She was ready to tuck the notebook back into her belongings when an alarm went off in her mind.
Pulling the notebook back out, she flipped through the pages. This time, not looking at the notes, but the dates on which she wrote them.
“There is a pattern,” she murmured aloud, excitement tunneling through her sorrow. “Sylvester has a pattern!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Your hunch was right,” Godric said, throwing a leather portfolio down onto the pub’s roughhewn table.
Cedric looked up as his friend slid into the seat across from him, and Godric grimaced.
“Jesus, man, you look terrible,” Godric grumbled.
Cedric had no energy for his usual wit and only reached for the portfolio Godric had brought him. He had spent the last few days doing his best to console Adeline, and it had been no easy feat to accomplish. Deborah had kept her promise to visit daily, but they were brief, and Adeline’s sadness only deepened further every time Deborah left the house all over again. What was worse was that on her last visit, Deborah had somehow managed to acquire annulment papers. They’d lain untouched and ignored on his desk, but their very existence threatened the end of his happiness. Which was why he’d had Godric meet him in the small, common pub far away from London, where neither had been before.
Adeline’s strife had caused the poor girl to suffer another episode the night Deborah had left, and another when he announced he had to take the long journey to Prittlewell. It was for this reason that Cedric felt he had no choice but to bring Adeline with him, and she was now anxiously waiting for him to return to their rented rooms with Kathy.
Then there was his own sadness. A deep well with teeth that threatened to consume him at every possible moment. It sat like a gape-mouthed demon over his shoulder at all times, even as he searched for clues of Hester’s whereabouts. Even when he finally found her. Cedric knew it was not until Deborah’s troubles-allof them- were finally settled that the demon would finally go away.
“So, Sylvester’s not responsible for the auction I met Deborah at then?” Cedric asked, his eyes flitting over the reports.
“Not only that, but apparently he’s made quite a few enemies of the place,” Godric explained, nodding toward the papers. “He is suspected of poaching a few women from there for his own auction as we once suspected, but he’s made so many enemies in London that he must have given up.”
Cedric remained quiet as he listened to Godric and took in the information on Sylvester from the files. Sylvester was an awful person, according to the reports. Dozens of illegitimate children. A report on a kidnapping that never reached the magistrate. Attempts at extortion. Deep financial stress as well.
Disgusted by it all, Cedric curled his lips back into a snarl as he shut the portfolio and shoved it away.
“Thisisenough, Cedric,” Godric stated, tapping his finger on the portfolio. “We release this proof to the papers, and Sylvester is done for. Deborah can rest, and she will come home. I am sure of it.”
Cedric chewed on the inside of his cheek until the pain became a decent enough distraction from his longing to have Deborah back by his side.