Read Online The Third Circle (Arcane Society Book 04) by Amanda Quick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amanda Quick
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outside.
He crossed the room to where his coat hung on the wall. He reached into one of the pockets without much optimism. There was an object inside, but it was not his gun. He pulled it out and saw that he was holding a lady’s rouge pot. He remembered picking it up off the floor near the body.
Another knock sounded on the door.
He tried a different pocket. This time he found the gun. When he removed the weapon he was further gratified to see that it was still loaded.
The gun was not the only thing inside the pocket. A brown-haired wig cut in a shaggy, unkempt masculine style was snagged around the barrel.
“Yes?” he called out.
“Cook thought ye might be awake and wanting some coffee and yer breakfast, sir.” The voice was that of a young person.
He dropped the wig back into the coat pocket. Keeping the gun out of sight alongside one leg, he opened the door a couple of inches. A girl of about twelve stood in the hall. She wore a neat white cap and an apron over a simple gray dress. There was a heavily laden tray in her hands. The smell of coffee and the sight of a plate heaped high with eggs, toast and kippered salmon made him realize how hungry he was.
“Thank you,” he said, opening the door wider. “Please set it on the table.”
“Yes, sir.”
The maid carried the tray into the room. When her back was turned he leaned out into the hall to make certain it was empty. Satisfied that no one lay in wait, he slipped the gun into the pocket of the coat.
The maid turned around and dropped a small curtsy.
“Will there be anything else, sir?”
He smiled at her. “Would you mind answering a few questions? I confess my recollection of my arrival last night is somewhat vague.”
“Aye, sir. Pa said you were as drunk as a lord. He had to help yer friend and his coachman take you up the stairs. Yer friend told him that when you woke up this morning you would probably be—” The girl paused, frowning a little in grave concentration. “—considerably confused. But he told Pa not to think for one moment that you were a lunatic. He said you were a very important person with friends in high places.”
In other words, the crystal worker had warned the innkeeper not to try to take advantage of him.
“She was right about my confusion,” he said mildly. “What is the address of this place?”
“Kilby Street, sir. Yer at the Blue Drake.”
That answered the most pressing question. The two women had left him at an inn located in a decent but none-too-prosperous London neighborhood.
“One more thing,” he said. “Did my friend happen to tell your pa where he and his coachman intended to go last night after they deposited me here?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, sir.”
Of course not, he thought. The pair had not wanted to provide any clues. They had planned to disappear.
“Thank you for the breakfast tray,” he said. “It looks very appetizing.”
The girl beamed. “Yer welcome, sir. Yer friend said to be sure to feed you right and proper this morning as you’d had a very hard night. Paid for the food and the room in advance, he did. Tipped Pa handsomely into the bargain.”
That explained the overflowing plate on the tray.
“I don’t suppose my very good friend left a message for me?” he asked.
“No, sir. He just said to tell you that he said good-bye and wished you well. Then he drove away in the carriage.” The maid hesitated.
“What is it?” he prompted.
“Nothing important, sir. It is just that, well—”
“Well, what?”
She cleared her throat. “I heard Pa and Ma talking this morning. Pa said that yer friend seemed downcast when he left last night. Pa said you’d have thought that he was saying farewell forever, as if he never expected to see you again.”
“If that was the case, my friend was wrong.” He thought about the wig in his coat pocket. “We will most certainly meet again, just as soon as I can arrange it.”
8
YOU AND ADAM LEFT Mr. Ware
He crossed the room to where his coat hung on the wall. He reached into one of the pockets without much optimism. There was an object inside, but it was not his gun. He pulled it out and saw that he was holding a lady’s rouge pot. He remembered picking it up off the floor near the body.
Another knock sounded on the door.
He tried a different pocket. This time he found the gun. When he removed the weapon he was further gratified to see that it was still loaded.
The gun was not the only thing inside the pocket. A brown-haired wig cut in a shaggy, unkempt masculine style was snagged around the barrel.
“Yes?” he called out.
“Cook thought ye might be awake and wanting some coffee and yer breakfast, sir.” The voice was that of a young person.
He dropped the wig back into the coat pocket. Keeping the gun out of sight alongside one leg, he opened the door a couple of inches. A girl of about twelve stood in the hall. She wore a neat white cap and an apron over a simple gray dress. There was a heavily laden tray in her hands. The smell of coffee and the sight of a plate heaped high with eggs, toast and kippered salmon made him realize how hungry he was.
“Thank you,” he said, opening the door wider. “Please set it on the table.”
“Yes, sir.”
The maid carried the tray into the room. When her back was turned he leaned out into the hall to make certain it was empty. Satisfied that no one lay in wait, he slipped the gun into the pocket of the coat.
The maid turned around and dropped a small curtsy.
“Will there be anything else, sir?”
He smiled at her. “Would you mind answering a few questions? I confess my recollection of my arrival last night is somewhat vague.”
“Aye, sir. Pa said you were as drunk as a lord. He had to help yer friend and his coachman take you up the stairs. Yer friend told him that when you woke up this morning you would probably be—” The girl paused, frowning a little in grave concentration. “—considerably confused. But he told Pa not to think for one moment that you were a lunatic. He said you were a very important person with friends in high places.”
In other words, the crystal worker had warned the innkeeper not to try to take advantage of him.
“She was right about my confusion,” he said mildly. “What is the address of this place?”
“Kilby Street, sir. Yer at the Blue Drake.”
That answered the most pressing question. The two women had left him at an inn located in a decent but none-too-prosperous London neighborhood.
“One more thing,” he said. “Did my friend happen to tell your pa where he and his coachman intended to go last night after they deposited me here?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, sir.”
Of course not, he thought. The pair had not wanted to provide any clues. They had planned to disappear.
“Thank you for the breakfast tray,” he said. “It looks very appetizing.”
The girl beamed. “Yer welcome, sir. Yer friend said to be sure to feed you right and proper this morning as you’d had a very hard night. Paid for the food and the room in advance, he did. Tipped Pa handsomely into the bargain.”
That explained the overflowing plate on the tray.
“I don’t suppose my very good friend left a message for me?” he asked.
“No, sir. He just said to tell you that he said good-bye and wished you well. Then he drove away in the carriage.” The maid hesitated.
“What is it?” he prompted.
“Nothing important, sir. It is just that, well—”
“Well, what?”
She cleared her throat. “I heard Pa and Ma talking this morning. Pa said that yer friend seemed downcast when he left last night. Pa said you’d have thought that he was saying farewell forever, as if he never expected to see you again.”
“If that was the case, my friend was wrong.” He thought about the wig in his coat pocket. “We will most certainly meet again, just as soon as I can arrange it.”
8
YOU AND ADAM LEFT Mr. Ware
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