Chapter 19

Where is She?

Martin was almost in Town. He decided to go straight to the McDonnell house. He had missed Muriel to such a ridiculous degree, it almost embarrassed him. He missed his mother the entire first year he was sent to Eton. He missed Muriel more than that. It was Monday. He could not remember Muriel having any obligations, other than struggling to hold her family together. Coming into Town, he felt so much better about Muriel and her family being safe. He had worried that first night because he had left with no one watching the house. Sometimes he worried too much. When he thought about it logically, he had to admit, it was indeed a waste of money. He knocked on the roof. Walter pulled over. Martin opened the coach door. "Where to, my lord?"

"I want to go by Lady Muriel's."

"On the way, my lord."

He almost laughed to himself. He felt giddy. He was besotted. He knew it and he cared not one whit. In another twenty minutes, Walter was pulling up in front of No. 72 Park Street. He practically jumped out of the coach and ran up the walkway. When he knocked on the front door, he wondered if the McDonnell butler had recovered enough to resume his position.

Carl opened the door. "Oh, my God. Lord Claymont. Is Lady Muriel is with you?" Carl's face was pale.

Martin looked at Carl like he had spoken a foreign language. As he was trying to formulate a question, Rosa and Lady McDonnell came running to the front door. "Is she with you?" They were visibly panic stricken.

"What the hell are you all talking about?" He pushed himself past the footman, Carl, and stood in the foyer looking at the three of them. "What the hell has happened?" With that, Lady McDonnell began to sob.

Rosa spoke up. "Muriel went to Hatchard's before noon on Saturday and disappeared. We have not seen her since. We have spoken with the Maxwell's and the Green's about the last time they last saw her. Jimmy went to the Bow Street and asked to speak with Frank Stewart but they told him that the man was not employed with them anymore. We have no idea what happened to her."

Martin's mind was in a maelstrom. Was I sleeping through a nightmare? What could have happened. "Did anyone go and speak with the employees at Hatchard's?" He would have hoped.

"Oh, yes." Rosa seemed to be the one person stable enough to provide answers. "Jimmy talked to two employees that saw her come in. She is hard to miss. You know. They said a tall man with dark brown hair came running in to speak with her. They said he was probably between the age of twenty-five and thirty-five. Nice looking. Oh God, oh God, oh God, who took her? Let me think–She is alright–she has to be. Oh God.

"Rosa, I need some foolscap and a writing implement." She stared at him. She was as if frozen. "Rosa, now. Take me to the study."

"I apologize. I'm not thinking too well myself. This way." She led him into the study. "Sit down at the desk and open the top, right-hand drawer." She watched him as he pulled out what he needed and started writing. "What else can I do?"

"Is your coachman here? What is his name…Jimmy?"

"Yes, he is. Should I go get him for you?" Rosa was so nervous, she wanted to help Lord Claymont, but she was having a hard time trying to focus.

"Yes. I need him" Before Rosa walked out of the study, he had another thought. "And get your footman in here."

"Yes, my lord." Before she went out to the mews, she walked to the front drawing room. Carl was standing by the door, looking over the continually sobbing Lady McDonnell and her best friend, Amina. "Carl, Lord Claymont wants you in the study, now."

"Right away." Carl was sure they were going to find her now that Lord Claymont was here. He entered the study. "My lord, you need me?"

Martin looked up for a moment, grabbed the wax and sealed the note using his signet. "The first thing I need you to do is go, tell my coachman – his name is Walter. Tell him I need him to take you to Mr. Frank Stewart's. Don't leave until, one, he is there, and two, he accompanies you back here. You understand?"

"Yes, my lord." He took the note, looked at Martin. Martin looked up. "I'm so glad you are here, my lord."

"Save the praise until we get her home." He wrote out another note. Rosa came back with Jimmy.

"My lord. I'm so sorry about this. I love Lady Muriel like a sister. I would never do anything to hurt her." Jimmy had his hat in his hand and visibly overset.

"That is alright, Jimmy. I need you to do something." Martin dripped the wax and sealed another note. "I need you to go to No. 9 St. James Square. It is the home of Lord Crumb. I can't remember his first name; not irrelevant. You go to the door. Ask for Lord Crumb. If he is not home, tell the butler it is of the utmost importance that you speak with him. Tell him that Lord Claymont sent you. When you see Lord Crumb, ask him if his son is home. If he says yes, thank him. Tell him that was all the information you were told to collect. If Lord Crumb tells you his son is not home, ask him when was the last time he saw him. He will most likely ask you what this is all about. Tell him if he has questions to come here. I will talk to him. Come back here as soon as you can."

"Yes, my lord. I will take care of it." He stood there.

"Yes?" Martin looked at him.

"I'm so sorry, my lord. I would never have hurt her–not ever." "Jimmy, I understand. Now, go." Martin was unnerved himself.

Martin sat at the desk and tapped his finger on the desktop, thinking who else could help. Who else might have an idea. Know anything to help. Dear God, please let her be alright. I will never let her out of my sight, ever again if you send her home safe and sound.

"My lord?" Rosa came in. She was very tentative about interrupting him. "Is there anything that I might be able to do?"

"Once one of the coaches return, I would like you to go to Hatchard's and try to find and speak with the two employees that witnessed the man with Muriel. Now, was there anyone, any man, that came to the house to see her? Sent her flowers? Calling cards?"

"Yes, well, there were several other gentlemen that sent flowers. There are dozens of calling cards. Do you wish to see them? I think they are still somewhere."

"Ummm. No. I think not yet. You might want to find them and keep them close, in case I would need to see them."

"Did I tell you how happy I am that you are here?"

"I have no idea. My mind is so terribly tortured. The only thing I can think about is that scruffy oaf. I'm not sure how any of this fits together. I'm afraid I may know who went into the bookstore to speak with Muriel. I have no viable proof. I hope we will find out soon."

"Have you eaten? Would you like me to have Cook make you something?"

"My stomach is in knots. I think maybe bread and cheese. And tea–no, do you have coffee?"

"I doubt it, my lord. We have been cutting corners." Rosa was ashamed to have to admit to Lord Claymont that they were unable to stock the kitchen .

"Tea is fine." He stood up and started pacing, trying to think who, who, who?" Rosa brought a small platter with slices of cheese and fresh bread. Martin walked over and pulled a small piece off the slice of bread. He was picking at the small piece he had in his hand as he continued to pace.

"Rosa!" He called out. She came running back in. "Yes, my lord."

"I take it the butler has yet to fully recover. So, how is he?"

"Yes, he is still recovering. He is better. He is still not to get up except to use the necessary or to sit and read. Dr. Haynie said for him not to sit more than one hour a day."

"Could I go and speak with him?" Maybe he had something in that head that would be helpful.

"Yes, come with me and I will see if he is awake."

"Lead the way." He followed Rosa up the stairs.

She knocked and heard him say, "Come."

"You go ahead. Come down when you are ready." Martin looked at Rosa, took her hand, and gave her a reassuring smile. Her eyes were so red and her face was all puffy. She had been weeping. She probably had not slept, either. Poor woman. Muriel always thought of her as a sister.

Martin went in. Looking at Mr. Sanders, he looked so small and frail in that big bed. "Mr. Sanders, correct?" There was a chair already placed by the side of the bed. He sat down.

"Yes, my lord. I assume you are frantic. The whole house is. Muriel would never leave with a stranger. Whoever took her, she knew them. I know she has been upset. I also know she would never do anything to hurt herself."

"What was she upset about?" Martin understood. Regardless of her lively spirit, Martin should have known she would be upset about the loss of Lord McDonnell's will. The butler looked away from Martin. "Please, if it helps, I need to know." Perhaps that was not all of her concerns.

"I will tell you. Let me weigh my words, my lord." He sat as he collected his thoughts. "The morning she disappeared she came and spoke with me. She cried. She…she was thinking to…to end the relationship with you."

Martin's stomach fell to the floor. He flushed. What the hell happened? "You must tell me why? Why did she want to do that? I have done everything for her. I would give her anything she would ever want."

"My lord she only wants one thing from you and you have not given it."

"What the hell?" He was dumb founded.

"All she wants is your love. She says she can't marry a man that does not love her no matter how much she loves you. She says you would break her heart every day."

Martin dropped his head. With a pained voice, barely heard. "Oh, God." He dropped his head into his hands. "Muriel, my sweet, Muriel." He stayed like that for several minutes. Mr. Sanders said nothing. Martin finally raised his head. "What should I do?"

"The first, and most important is to find her, and pray she is alive and well. Then, you must decide. Do you love her. Because if you know in your heart that you don't, you must let her go. If you do love her, you must tell her. That is all that is keeping her from being your wife."

"Thank you, Mr. Sanders." Martin stood to leave.

"My lord, this has been a conversation between gentlemen, yes?"

"Absolutely." He left the room and started downstairs. He walked past the front drawing room.

He was not at all prepared to deal with Muriel's mother. He was going to the study when Carl came in through the front door with Frank on his heels.

"Martin, my friend. What the hell? The footman filled me in; I need to hear this from you."

"Come in here." Frank followed him into the study. Martin sat down behind the desk and Frank sat down across from him. Martin went over all that he had been told. "I'm ill, Frank. My gut told me to at least have one man to stay and travel with the coach."

"Martin, it is very likely that the guard would not have gone in with her, so it would have been the same outcome. What we need to do is find out for certain, if the man that she left with was this Michael Crumb."

"Frank, if anything happens to her, I have no idea what I will – "

"Stop, we will find her. You, of all people, know you must remain convinced. Remember, you are the fixer. We will find her."

"Yes, right. Yes." Sounding more frustrated than positive.

"Now, is there anyone else? Anything else? Something you might have overlooked?"

He was wracking his brain. He ran his hand through his hair, then put his hand to his temple. Frank watched as Martin searched for something he had not thought of. He raised his head. "Yes. Lord Blackwood. He confided that a barrister told him he knew Trenchard. The barrister wanted to tell him something, but he had to leave. His father was deathly ill. He was leaving to tend to him."

"You should send a message to this Lord Blackwood and ask if he has spoken to this barrister."

"Yes, yes. I have to…I'm not sure where he lives. I think he mentioned where he lived on New Year's." He was groping. "All I can remember is that he lives somewhere in Manchester Square."

"I spoke with him at length at the New Year's party here. He told me where he lived. I just need to focus. I usually don't forget those kinds of things. Hopefully, it will come to me before I get to Manchester Square."

"Yes, you must." Martin sounded adamant. I you know can find him."

Frank stood. "You staying here?"

"I think I should. I have clothes in the coach. I went to Suffolk." He paused. "Of all times for me to do that. I came back a day or two sooner than I had originally planned. Frank, I feel so damn guilty."

"Well, I can understand from your point of view, but you need to be objective about this. This is not your fault."

"Thank you, Frank."

"I will come back here when I know something."

"Come back even if you don't find Blackwood."

"I will. Please try to – oh, forget it. I know you will not. I should save my breath."

Frank walked out. Martin stood back up and began pacing again. If Crumb was the person that had taken her, Martin prayed he would not assault her. He knew better. That is exactly what he would do. Would he do something this horrific to punish me? Jesus – if he did take her, I will find him and kill him.

There was a bell call on the desk. He rang it liberally. Carl came running in. "My coachman is still outside?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You tell Walter to take Miss Morgan and you to Hatchard's, go in with her. Make sure she finds the two people that spoke to Jimmy. Now, go find Miss Morgan and tell her to come here before you leave."

"Yes, my lord." Martin was strumming his fingers on the desktop. "Carl, come." Carl stepped back to his desk. "Don't return to tell me they refused to speak with her. You step up and tell them if they don't give her the information she has come to collect, that the Marquess of Stafford, Earl of Suffolk will personally see to it that the store is shut down. And here." He pulled out a piece of foolscap, melted wax on it, and pressed his signet into it. "This is your evidence that your message is sent by me. I don't wish to insult Miss Morgan, but sadly, I know how some people are." He handed the paper to Carl. "Say nothing to Miss Morgan unless it is necessary, understand?"

"Yes, my lord. I understand. I have seen it enough. Most unfair."

"Yes, now, please find Miss Morgan." He prayed the employees at the bookstore could recall anything they might not have thought of when they spoke to Jimmy.

"My lord, you asked for me?"

"Yes, Rosa, my coachman, his name is Walter, is going to take you to Hatchard's. You must be able to speak with the two employees that spoke with Jimmy. If they are not at work, tell them this is an emergency. Ask for the manager. Get their addresses and go to their homes and speak with them. Hopefully, they can remember something they may have forgotten or overlooked. Carl is going to go into the store with you. And please return as soon as you find out anything – anything at all."

"Yes, my lord."

Where would that bloody bastard take her? Crumb had few if any friends. He certainly would not take her to his father's. That is where he is living. He wondered what was taking Jimmy so long. It is likely that Lord Crumb was out. Hopefully, the butler told him where he was. It was important to find out if Michael had been home or away for the last two or three days.

Martin was an emotional wreck. What could he do? With nary a thing to do save to wait, his mind had gotten away from him. He was running through every possible scenario and none of them were good. He needed to rein his thoughts in. He needed something to do. All he could do was wait. Time continued to pass. He was already over three days behind Crumb. The longer she was with him, the more likely that he –. No. He would not think it.

It had been almost two hours since Rosa and Carl left for the bookstore. Why have they not returned. Must I go hail a hackney to go there myself? I can't sit here and do nothing. Please, let her be safe. God, please. Crumb would do unspeakable things to her. He would not kill her…would he? Martin clearly understood how Muriel attracted men, of all backgrounds, all shapes, all sizes. Regardless, every male was mesmerized by her. He understood that; he was mesmerized by her, too. He saw men's reactions to her when they went anywhere. He had the feeling that this whole thing was some kind of vendetta. He needed to get Fred here. Fred might be able to recall or think of something that may have slipped his mind. There were no coaches left here. They were all out doing his bidding. I know what to do. Martin sat back down, wrote a quick note, closed it, sealed it with his signet, then walked out the front door and waited. When he thought he saw a hackney, he whistled, like he did when he was young and called for his dogs. He waved as the jarvey looked his way. The jarvey pulled up to Martin. I need you to deliver this missive to Lord Fredrick Windham, at No. 16 St. James Street. Here," He handed the jarvey a five-pound note. If he is home, I will give you another five-pound note if you can bring him back. If he is there, be sure to tell him this is urgent. Understand?"

"Y-yes, my lord. Right away. I will do what I can to bring him back with me."

"Good. Go." Martin watched the jarvey to make sure he rode off in the right direction. He stood in the middle of the road, hands on his hips, with head gazed up at the blue sky. It was cold, he had no coat, and felt nothing, he kept gazing at the sky. Come on, my ethereal beauty. You have the power to come home. Spread those gossamer wings and come home to me. He kept saying, if it was that bastard Crumb, he did not want to worry what Crumb would do…he could not say Crumb would not hurt he r. If he had her, he knew what his purpose was; surely to God, he would not…he could not even think it. He kept praying for her to come home. I am trying to find you, love. Don't give up on me. He looked up and down the street. Where was Frank? Where was Jimmy? Where was Rosa? No one had returned. He was feeling every minute he waited was another minute she could be in jeopardy. In frustration, he walked back into the townhouse.

"Lord Claymont?" Oh, God. It was Lady McDonnell. He was in no mood to listen to her weeping and asking him the same questions he had been asking himself…none of which he could answer.

"Yes, my lady?" He dropped his shoulders in resignation of the inevitable conversation.

"I want to thank you for working so hard to…" She began to sob. He could not handle that, not now. He would cry with her when all this was over; not now.

"I understand. Perhaps Amina should take you upstairs for you to lie down. I promise you I will personally come up and report to you if I receive any pertinent information. Please."

"Yes, I understand. You need to keep your wits about you. My tears won't find her. I understand." She stood and walked over to him. "May I hug you?" He held his arms out for her. She stepped into his arms and sobbed. "You will find her, won't you?"

"Yes, my lady. I will do everything in my power. If there is a God, I will bring her home." He pulled her away from his arms and looked down at her. "I need to be able to focus all my attention only on finding her. I hope you understand."

"Yes, my lord." She gave him a pathetic smile, then turned to Amina, who was already behind her. "Come Amina. We can cry upstairs. Maybe check on Mr. Sanders."

"That sounds like a good thing to do, Marie. Come." Amina took her hand and led Marie up the stairs.

Martin walked back to the study, trying to think of something – anything to do. He heard the front door open and close. He stood and walked to the study door. It was Rosa and Carl. "Well?"

Rosa was taking her coat off. "My lord, it took a bit longer as the manager was willing to pull them off the desk to speak with me. First, they had to have someone cover them. That is what took so long. And I'm not sure that I got any additional information. What I did get, I wrote it down."

"Sit down. Carl, could you ask Cook to get the three of us some tea and a bit to eat? Have it brought in here."

"Yes, my lord. Thank you."

Martin looked up at Carl. "Thank you, Carl. You have been busier than all of us." "Alright, Rosa. What did you get?"

"The man was dressed as a noble. They said he was about the height of Carl. They used Carl as a kind of gauge. They said the man was slightly thinner than Carl. The woman noticed the man was nice looking. She said he had beautiful green eyes."

"Oh, Jesus."

"Shall I go on, my lord?"

"Yes, yes, please. I apologize. Yes."

"The woman had more information on his person. She said he had dark wavy hair. She noticed that he seemed very nervous. The lady went outside for a minute, then quickly returned. The short time she was outside, he kept rocking from one foot to the other, side to side. They both said they thought it was strange that he led her out the back exit. And the most important thing, I think, since Jimmy first spoke with them, is that they had a regular customer come in. He works down the street and comes in through the back on his lunch break to read the newspaper. As he was rounding the corner, he noticed a well-dressed man assist a well-dressed lady into the coach, then he pulled a kerchief out of his jacket pocket. He closed the cabin door, then he thought he saw them struggling. He thought it was a lover's quarrel. He thought nothing of it. They told me they had agreed with the man. What do you think, my lord. Was this helpful?"

"Yes, yes. Rosa, you did wonderfully. I'm ninety-five percent sure it was Michael Crumb that took her. The only way he could have kept Muriel inside that coach had to be by using something to subdue her. I have heard of people using ether. The stuff physician's use. Now, we need to hear back from Jimmy. I have no idea what is taking him so long."

"Jimmy won't give up until he can speak with Crumb's father."

"That bastard. It was him. It was him. I will kill him with my bare hands. I'll rip him to shreds, then feed him to the pigs."

"My lord, we must wait until Jimmy returns before you plan this Crumb man's demise."

"I know it was him." He slammed his hand down on the desk. "Why could he not fight me?"

"Because he knows he can't beat you. If he was wanting to hurt you, taking her was what he thought would work. I would say he was correct. I'm so sorry, my lord. We are all hurting. I love her. She is my sister. Blood or not. We grew up together. Shared our secrets, played, and laughed, and learned; did everything together."

"I apologize. I know how much she loves you." Martin put his head in his hands.

"She loves you very much. She has…well, I know she does love you."

"Well, but what? Please Rosa. Well, what." Was she about to tell him the same thing that Mr. Sanders had told him?

"My lord. I'm her confident. She tells me things, some of which I would feel like I would be betraying her to tell you."

"I'm hurting so badly for her. Rosa –" he dropped his head again. She heard him sniff and feared the man was tearing. Rosa reached in her reticule.

"Here, my lord." She handed him her kerchief. He turned his head, reached for it, and held it up to his eyes and pressed it, holding it there.

He continued to hold it to his eyes. "She will come home. She will. She will, Rosa. I will do anything to get her home." He finally pulled the kerchief away from his eyes. They were so red. As much as she hurt for Muriel, his pain was palpable.

Carl came in with a large salver. He put it on a table next to a couch in the room. "Rosa, go ahead. Carl, help yourself." He sat there, staring into the space.

There was a knock at the front door. "I will get it, my lord." Carl had put his meat pie down. "No, Carl. You eat. I will go. It is probably someone for me anyway."

He opened the door to see Frank and Lords Blackwood and Aubyn. "They wanted to come." Frank shrugged his shoulders.

"Where is Marie?" Lord Aubyn's voice was as if he demanded it.

"We need to see her." Blackwood was a bit more composed. It was obvious that they were both extremely concerned.

"I sent her upstairs to rest. Let me go up and see if she is willing to see you." Blackwood nodded. "No, no. We will see her. If she hesitates, tell her we will come up. She will see us." Aubyn was demanding.

Blackwood, standing behind Aubyn nodded as if to say he would take care of Aubyn.

Martin went up the stairs and knocked on Marie's bedchamber door. "Lady McDonnell, may I come in. It is Lord Claymont. "

Amina came to the door. "Have you heard anything?"

"Is she awake?" Martin thought if she was awake, it would be best for her to come down to see these two gentlemen.

"Yes, I'm awake. Please come in."

"Thank goodness you are dressed. Lords Aubyn and Blackwood are downstairs. They told me that they must see you. I would advise it. Particularly Lord Aubyn. He was most adamant that they see you."

"Yes, alright, my lord. Let me do something with my hair and I will be right down."

"Thank you. I will tell them." Martin started out of the room.

"And Lord Claymont." He was almost out the door. He kept his hand on the handle and turned to look at her. "Please, call me Marie. Please."

"Yes, my…Marie. If you will address me as Martin."

"Yes, of course, Martin. Tell them I will be right down."

Martin told them she would be down; for them to please have a seat in the drawing room.

Martin, let me speak with you a minute." Blackwood did not wait for an answer. He walked toward him.

"Shall we go into the music room?" Martin led him in, Blackwood walked into the room, then Martin closed the door. "What is it? Something amiss? Have you heard anything from this barrister Ackroyd?"

"I did receive a note from him. He let me know that he would be home this afternoon. I will try to stop and see him when James and I are done here. I wanted to tell you to try and be gentle with James. He has been an emotional mess since Frank found us at Brooks's. My God. I have never seen him so overwrought. I would keep anything pertinent from him until Muriel is found. I'm sure she will be. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes. I'm not exactly handling this all that well myself. I'm trying to stay busy."

"Well, I'm glad you sent Mr. Stewart to find me. I will do what I can. I'm hoping we shan't be here too long."

"Alright." Martin opened the music room door for Blackwood to return to the drawing room.

Blackwood took Martin's arm. "Martin, have faith. Remember, you are the fixer."

"Yes, my lord."

As they were going into the drawing room, Marie was coming down the stairs. Martin waited at the bottom of the stairs for her. Aubyn saw her as she made it to the landing. He ran to her. "Marie, Marie, I'm so sorry." He grabbed her, put his arms around her, and she began to sob into his shoulder. "You go ahead. Marie, has there been a ransom? Whatever it is, I will pay it. Do you hear me?"

"Oh, God, James, there has been no ransom note." She sobbed.

"Why else would someone take her? Marie, whatever you need. Please, let me help." Aubyn was beside himself.

Blackwood walked over to them both. "Marie." She had to tear herself away from James to get to Blackwood. He held her. He looked down at her. "We should go to the drawing room. Please." He looked at James and nodded his head toward the drawing room. James got on the other side of Marie and put his arm around her. "Sit down, Marie. Let me use the bellpull for the butler." Blackwood was going to order tea or even a brandy to calm her and James.

"Our butler is upstairs incapacitated. He was attacked about two months ago. He was badly injured. He is family. So we are without for now. Without the money from Curtis, we have had to cut back rather drastically."

"Marie, why did you not tell us? I will hire a full staff for you this afternoon. What else do you need? Food? Payments of any kind? Marie, I will pay them all for you." James was almost pleading to help her.

"James, that is more than kind; although with everything that is happening, until we find Muriel –"

"Muriel will come home, Marie, I'm sure of it." Blackwood put his arm around her, pulled her to him, and kissed her on the temple. "Marie, James was sincere. I will help you anyway I can as well. We wanted to make sure you were alright. We won't stay. Would it be alright for us to stop by later, or tomorrow?" Blackwood asked her so tenderly.

"Yes, please do. I'm a mess. Lord Claymont is doing all he can. The last thing I want to do is impede his work. You coming by again might even keep me from weeping." She tried to smile.

"You will be fine, Marie. She is coming home. Never give up hope." Blackwood kissed her again on the cheek.

"Marie, send a note for me any time, day or night. I will wait on hiring a staff for you. Remember, if a ransom comes, I will pay it. Do you understand?" James was adamant.

"Yes, thank you, James. You are so kind. I'm very grateful to have you both."

"We love you, Marie. Never forget that." Blackwood smiled at her one last time, then guided James out the door.

"Marie, would you like me to go upstairs with you and Mama?" Rosa felt she had done all she could for the time being.

"Yes, sweeting. Please." Rosa stopped.

"I'm going to tell Lord Claymont that I'm going up with you, just in case."

"Yes, you go. I will wait."

Rosa ran down the hall. Stuck her head in the study door, then ran back to Marie and they started up the stairs.

Frank was in the study with Martin. "I think at this point, all we can do is wait for something to happen." Frank said it, looking for Martin to make any suggestions.

"I know you are right. I don't like it at all." He put his head in his hands, again. It seemed that was all he was doing. "I understand."

Muriel had been lying in a small room and even though the coachman had started a fire in the small fireplace, it was still cold in the room. She had calmed herself a little. She now knew that ‘Harry the Scruffy Oaf' had murdered Michael Crumb. That meant that he would have no qualms about doing the same to her. Sitting in the room alone gave her no advantages. She was unable to even try to escape at this point. The door was locked from the outside. How many rooms do you find with a lock on the outside of the door? Did they fix the lock specifically for me? She thought when the Oaf returned, her last resort was to fight him to the finish. She knew that there were certain areas of the man's body that could bring them to their knees. She would have to remember that. If she could catch him unaware, she would have an advantage. She was so small. She would only have one chance. There was nothing in the room. No table, chair, nothing. There would be nothing she could hit him with. She prayed that maybe Oaf would have a change of heart and let her go. She wondered who Harry had referred to when he mentioned ‘that stupid bastard.' She had gone over what had happened for the last few months. She was unable to come up with a name. Who would do this? Murder? She paused. Oh, God, what if…what if the person that had sent the oaf to take me before, and the person that sent the oaf to kill Crumb, was the same person responsible for the disappearance of Trenchmouth.

Trenchmouth did tell me that the money was safe. He needed time. Time for what? What did he say to me? When I asked him if he had gambled it away. He seemed shocked at the suggestion. His office and flat were ransacked. Nothing was adding up.

She had spent hours in that tiny, cold room. She was tired. Is the cold causing me to be sleepy. I may not have to worry about that Oaf killing me. I may freeze to death. Well, if I should die before I wake I pray the Lord my soul to take. Martin, I love you. Mama, Rosa, Curtis, Amina–I love you all. I hope you are praying for me. She was glad she had her coat. She lost her muff and her reticule somewhere. She curled up in front of the fireplace and fell asleep.

She awoke thinking she heard someone knock on the door. That was odd. Why would they knock when they had the key? She definitely heard a knock. "Lady? It's Christopher, the coachman. I have a blanket. I thought you might want it."

Odd, that. "Yes, please." She heard a key go into the lock and turn, then the coachman walked in with a brown blanket in his hands. This was the first chance she had to see what the coachman looked like. He was taller than she had imagined. Taller than Oaf. Muscular-looking with light brown hair and big brown eyes. Strangely enough, he had a friendly face. She reached up and he handed her the blanket. He stood there a minute looking at her. Suddenly, he ever so slightly shook his head.

"I was sure you were cold. There's some wood right here by the door. Let me grab a' couple a' logs and throw ‘em on. That otta help." He simply reached around the corner, picked up two logs, and walked in front of the fireplace. "You might want to scoot back a little until I get those logs settled.

She did as he suggested until he had the logs on and had moved away. "Thank you. I thought I would freeze to death." She smiled at him.

"You sure are pretty, Lady." He stood there staring down at her.

"Thank you." She thought since he was standing there, maybe she could start a conversation. "Could you tell me how long I have been here? In this little room?"

"Well, I'm not real sure myself. It's been a pretty long time. I laid down in the coach for a long while. Hadn't had no sleep for a couple a' days. Then went and got something to eat. Used the necessary." The silence was awkward. "You haven't had nothin' to eat either, huh?"

"No, but it is alright. I have been too upset, well, more nervous, I guess. I would probably cast up my accounts." I don't believe he is too bright. Maybe I can talk myself out of here.

"How ‘bout the necessary?" He inquired, rather hesitantly. She was trying to remember. Does fear make you want to pee or not want to pee?

"No, I have had no liquid. So, no." She waited to get up the nerve, then thought she had nothing to lose. "Where is the other man? There were two of you, correct?"

"Oh, yes, Lady. What's your name again. I should know it. I know where you live, your friends, your family, and that wealthy man that's courtin' ya'."

"Oh, my. You know a great deal then. You and the other man have been following me?"

"It's Muriel. I shoulda' known it. I guess I forgot. You're so pretty, I kinda lost it."

"I'm really not that pretty. My mother is the pretty one."

"Yes, she is, but I don't think she's pretty as you."

"I'm sure she is very upset about me being gone. No one knows where I am. They are probably afraid something bad has happened to me."

"Nah, I don't think anything bad will happen to ya'. Don't fret over that."

"Can you promise me that?" She asked nicely.

"Well, not really, but I don't think it will. I would feel real bad."

"Yes, I would feel real bad, too." If the Oaf hurt me, he'd ‘feel bad'!

"That's funny. Well, I will do my best. I can promise you that. "

"I'm afraid of that other man. He tried to take me twice before this time."

"I know. I was the one drivin' the coach. We have been workin' on this for months. You've been hard to get."

"I'm so sorry." Jesus, we are talking about murder and kidnapping like we are talking about the weather .

"It's that guy that grabbed ya' at that book place that finally gave us the chance. He was real stupid."

"Is he dead?" She knew the answer.

"Yes. Harry has a bad temper. He probably shoudna' done it. You can't tell him anything when he gets somethin' in his head."

"I want to thank you again for the blanket. And the fire is really warming the room. I suppose I won't die by freezing to death."

"No, I wouldn't let ya' freeze to death." It seemed as if he was wanting to converse, and she was struggling to come up with small talk. What she really wanted to talk about was what it would take to get her out of this tiny room, away from the Oaf, and back home.

"I must tell you; it is very stressful not knowing what exactly is happening and why I was taken. I wish you could explain it to me."

"Well, I can't tell ya' much. I don't know who hired Harry. And it's a rented coach. I'm a coachman so I get hired for all kinds a' things. This one is strange, but I have been paid very well. All I know is that somebody was serious about getting their hands on ya'." He shuffled his feet. "I don't think they want Harry to hurt ya'. I don't want him to. I like ya'. You're nice and pretty, too."

"I wish you would at least go to my house and tell Mam a that I'm alright. I know she is overwrought. She has had a difficult time since Papa died. They really loved each other. Papa died suddenly and Mama has not been able to cope. This might put her over the edge."

"Gosh, I would hate that. I didn't know anything about your father. We never saw him so we figured he was gone. I'm sorry bout that. Really. That makes me sad. You know, my mum really loved my papa, but he wasn't nice to her. When I got old enough, he came home wantin' to pound on her again. I beat him to death."

"I'm so sorry he did that to your mum. I bet after you beat him, he never tried it again."

"No, I told ya,' I beat him to death. Yep, I sure did. Beatin' on my mum like that. Nobody otta do that to a woman."

"I agree. Women are defenseless next to men. And I'm so little." Maybe she could get his sympathy.

"I should go back downstairs. In case Harry shows up. He's been gone a long time. I thought he shoulda' been here by now. Don't you worry, hear me?"

"It is rather difficult not to worry. I will be better if I get to go home. As I said, I'm very worried about my mama."

"It's gonna be alright. Now, I will see ya' later. You stay by that fireplace."

"I will. And thank you again."

Hopefully, I will have a chance. I will keep praying and hoping Martin can find out who has done this.