Chapter 11

11

1885

"Well, Matthew, give me an update." W.T. Stead leaned forward and sent him an expectant look. "How close are you to showing me that first article for the series?"

Matthew's neck heated, and he shifted his weight to the other foot. He should have something more to show his editor by now. "I've interviewed several people and collected quite a bit of information. The last few days I've been focused on the disappearance of Mrs. Freemont's niece from the Foundling Hospital."

Stead frowned. "That's one lead, but it's not the full story. What about the girls at Mercy House? What did you learn there?"

"I interviewed four girls. Their experiences were ... quite gripping. I could use those for the first article, but I haven't had time to follow up on what I learned there."

Stead's bushy eyebrows rose. "Haven't had time? That was four days ago."

"What I mean is, looking for information about Mrs. Freemont's niece seemed more pressing."

"Watch yourself, Matthew. Don't let this become a personal issue. You need to keep your perspective and remain impartial. I don't mind you sharing information with Mrs. Freemont. I want her niece found and returned to her family as much as you do, but we've got to push ahead with our original plan for the series."

Matthew's gut twisted, and he fingered the note in his pocket from Lillian. How could he stay impartial when he knew how anxious she was to find her missing niece? She was willing to do whatever was needed. How could he do anything less?

Mr. Stead slapped his hand on the desk, jolting Matthew back to the moment. "Get back out there. Scour the city. Find out who is behind the abductions of those girls from White Chapel! We need to get these articles in print and put a stop to this!"

"Yes, sir."

"I want to see that first article on my desk by Thursday afternoon." Stead motioned toward the door.

"Very good, sir." Matthew strode out of Mr. Stead's office and headed for the newsroom. The scent of cigar smoke and printer's ink hung in the air. Several reporters hunched over their desks, scribbling away on their stories, while a few others had gathered in the corner, discussing their assignments.

He sank down at his desk and pulled Lillian's note from his pocket. She'd written his name in flowing script on the front of the envelope that had been hand-delivered by her coachman earlier that morning.

Dear Matthew,

My sister Serena and I want to thank you for the gallant way you have stepped forward to help us in the search for Alice. You have given us hope that we will find her and that she will be returned to us very soon.

Though we didn't locate the cleaning woman at Foundling Hospital, I am remembering those events with a light heart. Thank you for going there with me and for making sure we were able to get away safely without being seen. That was quite an adventure—one I'm sure I'll never forget.

I've spoken to Reverend Howell and my sister, and we have an idea for the next step in our search. We'd like to discuss it with you and ask for your thoughts as well as your help. I will be home all day. If you are able, please come at your convenience.

Sincerely, Lillian

The content of the note tugged at his conscience. Knowing she appreciated his efforts and was counting on his continued help sent a rush of determination through him. But he couldn't ignore his editor's stern words. He had to focus on finishing that first article by Thursday. He'd already reviewed his notes from the visit to Mercy House and had an idea how he might shape the article, but he had to make sure everything he included could be corroborated.

His gaze dropped to Lillian's note once more, and he set his jaw. Even if he had to work from six in the morning until midnight, he would find a way to meet that deadline and fulfill Lillian's request.

Lillian poured a cup of tea for Reverend Howell and glanced at the clock on the sitting room mantel. Matthew's note said he would arrive by six, but it was almost six thirty. She passed the cup to Reverend Howell. "I wonder why Mr. McGivern is late."

He sent her an understanding look. "I'm sure he has a good reason for the delay. I've gotten to know Matthew quite well in the last year, and he's proven himself to be a man of his word."

She had sensed that about him as well and was glad to hear the reverend confirm it.

He took his watch from his vest pocket. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave soon. I have a meeting at the church at seven o'clock."

She rose. "I wouldn't want you to miss your meeting. I can pass on our ideas to Mr. McGivern when he arrives."

He set his cup on the low table in front of the sofa. "I would stay longer, but it's the missions committee, and we're discussing several new candidates who have asked for our support."

She nodded. "I understand."

Stanford stepped into the doorway. "Mr. McGivern has arrived, ma'am."

Relief flowed through her. "Please show him in."

The butler nodded and stepped away.

A moment later, Matthew entered, and his gaze went directly to Lillian. "I apologize for my late arrival. There was a fire near the offices of the Gazette , and a snarl of carriages blocked our way. We had to drive quite a distance to find a path around the crowd and the fire wagons."

Concern lined Reverend Howell's face. "I hope no one was injured."

"I saw some of the Gazette reporters on the scene. I'm sure we'll read the details in the paper tomorrow morning."

Reverend Howell explained his need to leave for the missions meeting, and Matthew apologized again for being late. Reverend Howell shook his hand and bid them good night. Stanford saw him out.

Lillian motioned toward the sofa. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you." Matthew sat at one end.

She settled at the opposite end. "Thank you for coming. I hope my note didn't seem too presumptuous. After I sent it, I realized it might have sounded as though I expected you to drop whatever you were doing and come right away."

He shook his head, sincerity in his eyes. "No need to apologize. I'm glad you feel you can call on me."

She offered him a cup of tea.

He accepted it and took a sip. "You had an idea about the search for you niece?"

"Yes. Reverend Howell and I were discussing what you and I learned at Mercy House, especially our interview with that young woman, Amy. She mentioned there were younger girls working belowstairs at the Golden Swan." She paused. "I think that's the next lead we should follow."

His eyebrows rose. "What are you suggesting?"

Her cheeks heated, and she shifted on the sofa. Going to a brothel was not a topic she could easily discuss, but it was necessary. "I'm sure there are many ... establishments like the Golden Swan in London. My niece may not be working there, but I want to pay a visit and see for myself."

He frowned. "The Golden Swan is no place for a woman like you."

She straightened. "It's no place for an eight-year-old girl either."

He rose and paced across the room, clearly unhappy with her idea.

"I want to speak to the people in charge and learn if she's there."

He turned and studied her with a dubious look. "If she is there, which is highly unlikely, I don't believe they would tell you the truth or turn her over willingly."

"What should we do, then—go to the police?"

His frown deepened. "I've spoken to them twice about the missing girls from White Chapel. They say they're investigating the disappearances, but so far none of those girls have been found." He shook his head. "I don't like to say it, but I suspect they may have been paid off by someone who doesn't want those girls found."

She stifled a gasp. "You don't think they would search for Alice?"

"They might listen to you and file a report, then they'd speak to the matron and close the case." He crossed his arms, looking deep in thought. "I believe our best option is to continue the search ourselves, at least for now."

Lillian's heart lifted. "So you'll go to the Golden Swan?"

"I'm not sure how I can get in. I'll have to think of some kind of ruse."

"I don't want to lie."

His eyebrows dipped. "Don't worry. You won't have to. You're not going with me."

She set her jaw and rose from the sofa. "I went with you to the Foundling Hospital. We snuck in and out without too much trouble."

He closed his eyes, obviously restraining himself. "It's not the same. Going into the Golden Swan will be much more dangerous."

"That may be true." Her voice grew more intense. "But I must find Alice. I'm responsible. None of this would've happened if I had been more..." Her throat tightened, cutting off her words.

His brow creased. "What are you saying?"

She swallowed hard. "I knew my sister was becoming enamored with Robert Dunsmore. I should have cautioned her to guard her affections until she was certain of his character and commitment. But John and I had only been married for a short time. I was so focused on my own happiness that I ignored the danger signs."

He shook his head. "Your sister made her own choices. What happened to her is not your fault."

"But she was only seventeen—so young and na?ve. If I'd not been so wrapped up in my own life, I could've seen what was coming and prevented all this heartache."

There was no censure in his expression, only an understanding look that encouraged her to tell him more.

"A few months after she ran away with him, she wrote and told us she was expecting a child. I made a few inquiries, but then my husband's ship went down, and I lost..." She pressed her lips tight, unable to say the rest. How could she tell him the dear child she'd so longed for had only lived a few hours? She pulled in a deep breath, reining in her emotions. "I lost hope and gave up the search."

Eight years had passed, but she still felt the weight of her failure to protect her sister almost as deeply as she grieved the loss of her husband and child. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pour out all my troubles on you. But now you must see how important it is that I find my niece."

"Lillian, as much as you love your sister, you can't right all the wrongs in her life." His voice softened, and his gaze held steady.

It was kind of him to try and ease the burden she felt, but he didn't understand the depth of regret she carried for everything that had happened to Serena and Alice. "Please, I want to go with you and do what I can."

He released a deep breath, looking as though he might be softening to her idea.

"We know there are young girls trapped at the Golden Swan," she said. "Maybe my niece is there, maybe not. Either way, I believe the Lord gave us that information for a reason. Let's go there together and see what we can do to help them."

Conflicting emotions crossed his face. "I'll find some way to get in and try to speak to the girls, but I can't allow you to go with me."

She crossed her arms and held his gaze as the mantel clock ticked off the seconds. She needed his help, so she would have to concede. "All right. How will you get in?"

He stared into the fireplace for a few seconds, then turned to her. "I'll go as a deliveryman, maybe take some vegetables to the kitchen. If I arrive early in the morning, it shouldn't be too busy. That way I might catch the girls belowstairs on their own."

"If you do find my niece, do you think she'll leave with you—a man she doesn't even know?"

He studied her for a moment, obviously still conflicted. "I suppose you could ride along in the carriage. If your niece is there, and she's reluctant to leave with me, I could bring you to her."

Relief rushed through Lillian. She still wished she could accompany him into the building from the start, but she could tell this was the only compromise he would offer. She would ride along, pray for his safety and success, and be on hand if needed.

Considering the risks, she should be grateful, but she couldn't push away the feeling she should do more.