Page 23 of Unmasking the Diamond
Hillstead’s humor dimmed. “Ah. That.”
“Something sinister is going on there,” Luca pressed. “The Duchess of Brackenford and Lady Coldwyck both died within five months of being committed. And the listed cause of both deaths is influenza. But I don’t believe it.”
“And you have what proof to back that up?”
“I am working on that.”
“I know you have been looking into that asylum for weeks now, but I fear it is a fool’s errand. People die, especially in filthy places such as that.”
“I can’t in good conscience just walk away now,” Luca said.
Hillstead studied him with sober eyes. “Then trust your gut, but be cautious. The Duke of Brackenford is a powerful man and has friends in high places.”
“I am well aware.”
“Then let me help.”
“No. I won’t risk anyone else if this investigation goes awry.”
Hillstead gave a crooked grin. “I’d risk it. But only for you. Not for anyone else.”
Luca smirked faintly despite himself. “I might take you up on that later. For now, I mean to speak with the duchess’s sister.”
Hillstead rose. “Good luck. And if you change your mind about that drink, you know where to find me.”
With a slight chuckle, Luca said, “I should never have let out a building so close to a tavern.”
“That was your folly, not mine,” Hillstead joked.
As his friend departed, Luca checked his watch. The ride to Cheapside would take time, but it could not be avoided. He leftThe London Gazette, gave his driver the address, and opened the door of the coach.
But as he stepped inside, he froze. A burly man sat opposite, a pistol leveled at his chest.
“Get in,” the stranger ordered.
Luca slid onto the seat, schooling his face into cool disdain as the hackney lurched forward.
“I hear you’ve been poking into matters that don’t concern you,” the man said grimly. “Particularly The Chelmsford Asylum.”
Luca’s pulse thundered, but he kept his tone even. “Who sent you?”
The man’s eyes glittered with menace as he leveled his pistol just low enough to make the threat casual, deliberate. “Who sent me doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m here to give you one warning. Stop asking questions, or you’ll regret it.”
“I do not take kindly to threats.”
“This isn’t a threat,” the man sneered. “It’s a promise.” He rapped his knuckles against the roof of the hackney, and the driver brought the carriage to an abrupt halt.
The door opened, the man shifted as if to step down, but then he paused. His head turned, voice pitched low and cutting. “If you aren’t concerned about yourself, you should be thinking about Miss Winslow.”
Every muscle in Luca’s body went rigid. “What does Miss Winslow have to do with this?”
“I am merely saying…” the man drawled, his smirk widening, “… that I would hate for her to get hurt.”
Luca forced his expression into disdain, though his hand curled into a fist at his knee. “Miss Winslow is nothing to me.”
The man gave a mocking chuckle. “So say you.” With that parting shot, he stepped down from the hackney and disappeared into the London crowd.
For a long moment, Luca sat still until he let out a sharp breath, leaning back against the leather cushion. Fury battled grim satisfaction inside him. Someone was terrified enough of what he might uncover to send a brute with a pistol. That meanthis investigation into The Chelmsford Asylum was rattling the right cages. He was close.
