A Most Dangerous Woman by Brenda Clough

Author:Brenda Clough [Brenda Clough]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781682105368
Publisher: Realm
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Marian Halcombe’s journal

4 June

I cannot understand what Walter is doing at Newgate—suddenly he is spending hours at a time there. Although he does report that Theo says he had never seen a sapphire and gold ring in Margaret’s possession. But at least Walter no longer has to be prodded into visiting. Surely my dear man finds a familiar face a comfort. If only it could be myself! But Walter is steadfast, insisting it would be injurious for Theo as well as myself. I will contrive it at some point.

To go and call upon lawyers and bankers, however, was entirely allowable, and I did this today. We took the carriage, and Matson let Walter off near the Old Bailey before taking me on to Goslings & Sharp in Fleet Street. The narrow street was crowded with people of all sorts and orders, hurrying on their own errands. The noise was immense. And the city’s air was foul this season, adding to the effect—a thick yellowish haze that stank, and cloaked every passerby with menace.

I was glad to step into the hush of the great bank’s marble lobby. But it had not occurred to me that I would be the only lady here, possibly in the entire building. Clerks looked up from their counters, accountants from their inky ledgers. A solid banker in a black coat approached me, his eye gray and cold as ice behind gold-rimmed spectacles. “May we help you, young woman? Perhaps you are lost?”

“I am not lost,” I said firmly. “I am Miss Marian Halcombe, and I have monies on deposit at this bank.”

“I am Mr. Fittleworth, at your service, Miss.” Cloaked and shawled as I was, the silhouette of my figure surely was concealed? But I did see Mr. Fittleworth glance sharply at my left hand. An unmarried woman, in my condition, could not be respectable.

However, when the ledgers were consulted there was a slight thawing, and I was shown into his office. “Ah, Miss Halcombe—doubtless you are here to inquire about your holdings. They are still moderate.”

“Still?”

Behind the spectacles his gaze was chilly again. “Does some man in your family manage your funds, Miss Halcombe?”

“No,” I said. “I am reckoned to be competent to manage my own affairs.”

“I see.” He so carefully did not look at my waistline that I could have slapped him. “You should consider it then, Miss Halcombe. You have, imprudently, dipped into your capital this past season in a way that cannot be sustained.”

“And I am going to encroach upon it yet more.” From my handbag I produced the latest account statement from Plockton, Smithee & Erbistock. “See that this sum is forwarded to their offices by close of business this week.”

“My dear Miss Halcombe—this is a very considerable amount of money.”

“They are a firm of solicitors, charged with defending my—” Hastily I changed my wording. “Defending a man accused of murder. This money is well spent.”

“Your income this year will fall by a quarter,” Mr. Fittleworth warned. “You have heard the stories of these lawyers, Miss Halcombe.

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