were a number of excellent books in her study on a variety of other
subjects that she presumably had read as well. What of it? Baxter thought. The evidence of an intel lectual bent did not prove that she was not a blackmailer and a murderess.
Any number of well-educated upper-class villains could spout scientific facts, he reminded himself. A
good education did not
indicate a pure heart and an honest soul. Morgan Judd, for ex ample, had been one of the most intelligent, well-read men he had
ever met.
Baxter surveyed the fog-shrouded street with a sense of foreboding. The neighborhood was quiet and
sedate. Eminently respectable. There were no great mansions but the houses obviously belonged to
those possessed of comfortable incomes.
He still could not believe that he had allowed himself to be dragged out on such a miserable night to
search for clues relating to
a case of murder.
Charlottewas either quite sincere or quite mad, or she was using him to assist her and protect her person
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while she advanced her own
, 0/(
47
schem,s. A lady involved in blackmail and murder would certainly have need of a
man-of-affairs-cum-bodyguard.
Baxter stifled a sigh. He really was not cut out for this sort of
thing. Life was so much simpler, so much more logical and orderly back In his laboratory. "We are
fortunate to have the fog tonight, are we not, Mr. St. Ives?"Charlotte 's voice was muffled by the hood of
her cloak and a
thick, woolen scarf. "It will serve to conceal our presence in this neighborhood. Even if someone were to
notice us, he would not be able to see us clearly enough to make out our identities."
Baxter was annoyed by her optimistic spirits. He glanced at her
as she stood beside him in front of the darkened Heskett house. Her
cloak rendered her anonymous. He knew himself to be equally well
covered. He had turned up the wide collar of his greatcoat and pulled down the brim of his hat to ensure
that his features were
drenched in dense shadows.
The weak gas lights that had recently been installed in this part of town could not penetrate far into the
fog. So long as he and
Charlottestayed out of the short range of the lamplight, they would be reasonably safe from detection.
Nevertheless, Baxter thought it
best to make one more stab at discouraging his new employer from her risky activities.
"You would do well to have some concerns on the subject, Miss Arkendale. As I have already advised
you, this little adventure of yours is fraught with danger. It is not too late to turn back. The
carriage I hired is waiting just a short distance away in the park." "Not another word, if you please, St.
Ives," she said crisply. "You have been attempting to dissuade me from this project ever
since we first discussed it. It grows wearying. I did not employ you to be the voice of gloom." "I feel an
obligation to advise you." "I do not employ you for advice, either, sir. Enough. We don't have time for
any more of your warnings and dire predictions. The time has come to get on with it."
48
___% -) Amanda Quick "As you say, Miss Arkendale." He watched as she unfastened the low iron gate
to the side of the main entrance and started down the stone steps that led to the kitchen.
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The front area of the town house, designed to provide access for servants and tradesmen, was situated
below street level. Tendrils of fog swirled out of the black pit at the bottom of the steps.Charlotte 's
cloaked figure wafted, ghostlike, down into the stygian darkness before Baxter could think of any more
warnings or arguments.
He moved swiftly to overtakeCharlotte . He caught up with her as she came to a halt in the shadows
near the kitchen door. "Allow me, Miss Arkendale." "Very well, sir, but I pray you will not delay us any
further." "I would not dream
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