The Secret of Bow Lane by Jennifer Ashley

Author:Jennifer Ashley [Ashley, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

17

Later that afternoon, once I had said good-bye to Grace, I made my way to the same insalubrious tavern in Soho and met Mr. Tuck and Daniel. Charlotte had come as well, of course.

Mr. Tuck eyed Daniel askance as Daniel took his seat, observing his worn coat, trousers, and thick boots with a superior air.

Once we had ale on the table—in my case, tea—Daniel became his usual disarming self and soon had Mr. Tuck opening up to him. Even Charlotte grew less fractious. She clearly could not understand why Daniel had taken up with me—I saw her eyeing me and then Daniel and shaking her head ever so slightly—but she became almost amiable.

Mr. Tuck, however, had little to add to his story. He repeated the fact that Joe had returned from Antigua by other means than the Devonshire and then had met his death in the old London Dockyards.

“Why those dockyards?” Daniel asked him. “When he usually sailed from Gravesend?”

“I wish I knew,” Mr. Tuck said. “He was likely meeting some nefarious person, probably Thomas Smith. Joe was tough. He thought he could best anyone.”

Yes, Joe had certainly had an overweening confidence in himself. He thought himself impervious to everything, and he had been, until the end.

“You said he showed you coins,” Daniel went on. “Gold ones?”

“Yes. As I told Miss Holloway.”

Again, I did not correct him about my name. Daniel leaned his arms on the table, hands around his pint. “Did he give you any?” He was eager, interested, a workingman fascinated by the aspect of gold.

Mr. Tuck started, his beard jerking. “He did, as a matter of fact. Just one. A souvenir, he told me. And as a promise of more.”

“I assume you spent it?” Daniel asked. “What couldn’t a man buy with a gold coin?” he finished wistfully.

“I kept it,” Mr. Tuck said, affronted. “To remember him by. And as a sort of good-luck charm.”

The coins hadn’t brought Joe much luck, I reflected.

Daniel leaned closer to him, his eyes alight. “You couldn’t let me have a butcher’s, could you? The only metal I ever see is copper.” He chortled. “If you have it on you, that is.”

Mr. Tuck glanced about the tavern’s snug, but today, we were its only occupants. Once satisfied no one was watching, he pulled out a tiny pouch, such as one for keepsakes. He withdrew from this a coin, about an inch across, that caught the light. Gold spangles fell across Daniel’s fingers as he reached for it.

“Now that’s a lovely sight.” Daniel’s backstreet accent grew as he laid the coin on his palm. “There’s the queen, plain as day. And a pretty design on the back.” He flipped the coin and squinted at it. “Chap on a horse, fighting some beast.”

“St. George and the dragon,” Mr. Tuck said, pained.

Daniel turned the gold piece to the front again. “Victoria,” he read painstakingly. “Britannia Reg. What’s that bit mean?”

“Reg is Regina.” Mr. Tuck’s mouth tightened. “Latin for Queen. Britannia is Britain, as you know.”

“Course it is.

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