Page 39 of A Devious Secret

Finding himself alone, he started walking back from whence they had come. His alert eyes watched the men loitering in the doorways, appearing far too interested in him. He was smart enough to bring an overcoat pistol this time, but there was only one shot in it. He would have to make it count, assuming it came to that.

He passed the drunken man and continued down the pavement. Once he saw a hackney, he put his hand up to signal it when he saw a man walking towards him. He would recognize the man’s gait anywhere. It was his old first lieutenant.

Surprise, then panic, came to Benjamin’s face as their gazes met. In the next moment, Benjamin darted across the street, skirting the carriages, and disappeared into an alleyway.

Stephen rushed after him but was forced to stop when a carriage passed in front of him. Once the coach was past him, he hurried over to the alleyway and saw that it was empty. He ran towards the other side but he didn’t see any sign of Benjamin.

Botheration. He slammed his fist into the sides of a brick building. Why was Benjamin avoiding him and using an alias? This didn’t make any sense.

Stephen retraced his steps and was fortunate enough to see a hackney coming down the street. He put his hand up and the hackney came to a stop in front of him.

“Where to, Mister?” the driver shouted down to him.

Stephen informed him of the address before he stepped inside. He leaned his back against the bench as he attempted to decipher why Benjamin had acted in such a fashion when he’d seen him. He had considered Benjamin his comrade and he had mourned his death.

He turned his head towards the window and watched as the buildings passed by. It wasn’t long before he realized that they were on Bond Street. He watched all the ladies walking down the pavement with their servants trailing behind, holding their packages. How droll was this life in Town.

This is not the life that he wanted. He wanted to be far away from London and live an idyllic life in Brightlingsea. He wanted to give his kids the same opportunities that he was afforded as a child.

He was about to turn from the window when he saw Lady Hawkinge. She was standing next to Lady Montfort and she was pointing towards a hat in a window’s storefront.

Not entirely sure what he was about, he tapped the side of the hackney and it came to a rolling stop. He exited and extended a few coins to the driver.

Stephen turned back towards where he had last seen Lady Hawkinge but she was nowhere to be found. He walked towards the window and looked inside. He saw Lady Hawkinge was holding the hat that she had been admiring in her hand and she was speaking to Lady Montfort.

A man brushed up against him, causing him to stagger back. “My apologies,” the man muttered before he continued down the pavement.

When his eyes strayed back towards the window, he saw that Lady Montfort was watching him with a curious expression. He had been caught staring. He knew he should just tip his hat and walk away, but something propelled him to open the door.

As he entered the milliner’s shop, he watched as all the women turned to face him. He ignored their blatant looks and approached Lady Hawkinge and Lady Montfort.

He bowed. “Lady Hawkinge,” he greeted. “Lady Montfort.”

Lady Hawkinge smiled politely, still holding the hat in her hands. “What a pleasant surprise to see you in here.”

“Yes, it certainly is,” Lady Montfort said.

Stephen pointed towards the hat in Lady Hawkinge’s hands. “That is a lovely hat.”

Lady Hawkinge held it up. “I was thinking the same thing,” she replied. “Do you often visit millinery shops?” There was a teasing tilt in her voice.

He felt like a fool. What had he been thinking coming into the shop? This was a shop for ladies, not gentlemen.

A shopkeeper walked over to him and asked, “Are you interested in purchasing a hat, sir?”

“I… um…” He paused to collect his thoughts. “I think I would like to purchase a hat for my sister.” There. That was an excellent reason to be in a milliner’s shop.

The shopkeeper nodded. “Very good. What kind of hat are you looking for?”

“One with flowers,” Stephen replied.

“Do you know what her favorite flower is?” the shopkeeper pressed.

Stephen blanched. “I do not.” How would he know what his sister’s favorite flower was?

With a wave of her hand, the shopkeeper said, “We have over a hundred hats that have flowers on them. Would you care to select one that fits her tastes?”

Stephen’s eyes roamed the collection of hats until he saw a simple one with pink flowers on it. “That one will do,” he said.