Page 91 of A Stolen Heart

When the woman said nothing, Alexandra went on, “I believe that you wanted to tell me something?”

“I got sumfing you’d like to ‘ear,” the woman responded.

It took Alexandra a moment to figure out what the woman had said. The thick London accents still confused her. But Sebastian understood immediately.

“Indeed? And what would we like to hear?” he asked in an indifferent, even bored voice.

The woman let out a snort. “You fink I’m tellin’ ye, just like ‘at?” she asked scornfully. “I has important information, I do, an’ I figure it’s worf sumfing to ye.”

“I can hardly judge that, can I, until I hear what it is?” Sebastian responded.

“’Ere! I ain’t talkin’ to you, any’ ow. I’m talkin’ to the lady.”

“That’s true,” Alexandra interjected, frowning at Sebastian. “And I am very much interested in hearing what you have to say. What does this information concern?”

“It concerns my man, that’s wot—the one you’ve got up in Newgate.”

“In jail?” Sebastian looked sharply at the woman. “Are you saying that your man is the fellow who attacked Miss Ward the other day?”

The woman gave a firm nod, pride evident on her face. “That’s ‘im. Red Bill Trimble.”

“And you are going to give us evidence against him?” Alexandra asked doubtfully. The woman seemed too proud, even fond of the man to be giving evidence against him.

“No. Wot’s wrong with you? I’d never do nuffing like ‘at. But it ain’t right ‘im sittin’ there rottin’ and the one wot ‘ired ‘im runnin’ about free, now, is it?”

“Hardly,” Alexandra agreed, her pulse quickening. “Do you know who hired him?”

A crafty look crept over the woman’s face. “Mebbe I do. Wot’s it worf to you?”

“It’s worth you not going to jail,” Sebastian interjected hotly. “If you know who hired your man to harm Miss Ward and don’t tell, that makes you an accessory to the crime.”

“’Ere!” The woman recoiled. “There’s no cause to do that! I ain’t done nuffing wrong! I just offered to help, like, an’ you’re tryin’ to put me in jail!”

“Sebastian, do be quiet,” Alexandra said crisply. “You are not helping matters any.”

“I’m not going to let that woman extort money from you on top of everything else. She’ll bloody well tell us what she knows—”

The woman backed up quickly, her face going pale beneath its layer of dirt. “’Ere now, you got no cause—I ain’t askin’ you for money!”

“Of course not,” Alexandra assured her, shooting a speaking glance at Sebastian. She moved toward her, holding out a hand. “Here, why don’t you sit down at the table and have a nice cup of tea, and we will talk about this like reasonable people.”

“I can see you’re a real lady,” the woman said, raising her chin and casting a triumphant look at the servants massed across the kitchen from her. She sidled over to the table and sat, keeping a careful eye on Sebastian.

“Thank you. Mrs. Huffines, tea, if you please,” Alexandra said to the cook. “The rest of you, I am sure, have work to do—somewhere else.”

The cook sniffed and bustled off to brew a pot of tea, and the other servants took themselves off reluctantly. Alexandra sat at the large wooden table across from their visitor, and Sebastian, after a moment, sighed and sat beside her.

“Now, then, Miss—” Alexandra began.

“Maisy. Me name is Maisy Goodall.”

“All right, Maisy.” Alexandra said. “If you don’t want money, what is it you do want?”

“You could get Bill out of jail, you could.”

Sebastian made a noise of disgust, and Alexandra shot him a warning look.

“I doubt that I have the power to do that,” Alexandra told her. “Of course, if he were to tell us who hired him, I am sure that the magistrate would go easier on him.”