Page 132 of When We Touch

“Not to be indelicate,” George Hennesy said, “but . . . were you able to get to the bank?”

“Indeed!” Cecilia said.

“I didn’t think my good friend, Mr. Thayer, our banker, would keep me from an advance on the pension,” Maggie said. “Please give Mr. Hennesy the money, Sissy,” she told Cecilia.

“Of course!”

Ten pounds sterling were handed over to Hennesy, who then passed it on to John. “Jeremiah will be grateful,” he said.

“He is late again?” Maggie asked.

“I’m afraid so,” answered the fellow standing behind Arianna. Maggie counted.

Four of them inside. Jeremiah to come.

Two of them were outside, somewhere, keeping an eye out.

“Well!” she said. She smiled warmly at the Hennesys. “Since you were so kind in your offerings last night, I thought that I should return the favor.” She pulled out her bottle of brandy. “An excellent year! A gift to my husband from one of his clients, a landed gent, who got it from the royal family, so we were told. I’ve saved it for a very special occasion. It should have a truly wonderful taste.”

“Lovely!” George Hennesy said, beaming. “My dear . . .?”

“Everyone must have some,” Maggie said. “I’m so very grateful to you all.”

“Of course, of course, I’ll get glasses,” Ellen Hennesy said.

Soon, they were brought. The brandy was poured. “Cheers!” Maggie said, lifting her own glass. She pretended to drink.

Thankfully, Jeremiah’s “boys” all liked their liquor. They drained their glasses quickly. “Oh, do finish the bottle!” she said. “If I can reach Frank tonight, it will have been the most special occasion ever. I’ll have felt that I enjoyed it with some new but very good friends, and my dear Frank himself!”

She gritted her teeth and forced a smile as George Hennesy was the first to reach for more. But the “boys” were ready for a second round, and she, Cecilia, and Mireau were able to offer up empty glasses for a refill, all having managed to toss their first rounds beneath the table.

Only Arianna had ignored her glass.

“You’re not enjoying this wonderful warmth!” Maggie said to her.

Arianna shook her head, eyes filled with warning as she looked at Maggie. “I’m not much of a drinker, mum.”

“Don’t insult the woman,” John said, and Maggie felt her jaw harden as she watched the way the young thug bit his fingers into the girl’s shoulder.

Arianna picked up her glass, and drank. She swallowed down the brandy in a gulp, set the glass back down.

Mireau saw that it was quickly refilled.

“Definitely a special taste,” John commented. He’d probably never had good brandy before in his life, but he pretended to study the color. Maggie smiled, then frowned, looking Arianna’s way again. Her serious concern brought John’s fingers to Arianna’s shoulders once again. Before he could touch her, the girl swallowed down the second glassful.

It was not, however, Arianna who went first.

Ellen Hennesy was simply sitting one minute, enjoying the taste as they awaited Jeremiah, then, without word or whimper, she crashed forward, head downward, onto the table.

* * *

Jamie chose to keep out of the City of London, and walked the surrounding streets. He had split up three couples, earned two beatings about his head by way of the prostitutes’ poor reticules, and angrily offered up doss money for the women himself thus far. One woman ran straight into a pub, and he felt his aggravation rising. This was not an easy task.

It was near one-thirty when he saw the suspicious fellow in the deerstalker hat and sweeping black cape walking along the side of the road. He was keeping deep to the shadows, and his every movement seemed furtive. Jamie watched him, following at a distance, then saw an opportunity to duck into one of the alleys, leap a gate, and come at the fellow from the opposing direction.

He slipped into the alley, ran the length of it. A cat let out a horrid screech. In the mist-shrouded night, it sounded like a glaring alarm.

He leapt the fence at the end of the alley, and came around.