Page 109 of The Marriage Method

“Where is your sling?” he asked as he led her to the library.

“I’m practicing going without it,” she answered. “In preparation for the shooting party.”

“And is it—?”

“It’s bearable,” she said. “So long as I don’t move my right arm overmuch.”

Her shoulder joint was still too swollen for her to raise her arm above her head or to lift anything even remotely heavy without pain. As for her new sword-cane, though she was getting better at flourishing it with her left hand, Nell couldn’t manage it at all with her right. It made the cane all but useless as a practical accessory. She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t need to lean on it during their time in Hertfordshire.

Entering the library, Nell and Miles found Inspector Garrick at the hearth, warming his hands in front of the fire. He came to attention when he saw them. “Mr. Quincey. Mrs. Quincey.” He bowed. “Good afternoon.”

“Inspector.” Miles escorted Nell to a leather chair by the fireplace. He waited for her to sit before turning to address the policeman. “You have news?”

“I do, sir,” Garrick replied. “Not all of it favorable.”

Miles remained standing by Nell’s chair. “Go on.”

“We arrested Silas Davidson yesterday morning,” Garrick said.

Nell hadn’t been aware of Silas’s surname.

“On what grounds?” Miles asked.

“Not murder,” the inspector said. “I’ve yet to prove that particular charge. Mr. Davidson was arrested for the abduction and unlawful imprisonment of Flora Brent. He attempted to flee, but was in no fit state to do so. You may or may not be aware that he was recently beaten by an unknown assailant.”

“Was he?” Nell affected an expression of concern. “How dreadful.” She paused, unable to resist adding, “Though I’m sure it was no less than he deserved.”

Miles was inscrutable. “Unknown, you said?”

“These things happen in that part of the city,” Garrick replied. “It won’t impact our bringing him to justice. The assault doesn’t appear to have anything to do with his abduction of Miss Brent or his alleged involvement in the murder of Mr. Cowgill.”

“I’m confident you’re right,” Miles said.

Nell didn’t trust herself to look at her husband. She knew full well why Silas had been beaten. And it wasn’t because of what he’d done to Miss Brent or Mr. Cowgill. It was because of what he’d done to her. “What about Mrs. Pritchard?” she asked.

“I trust you’ve arrested her as well,” Miles said. “She’s as guilty as he is.”

“Guiltier,” Nell said. “It was she who drugged Miss Brent and took her from the railway platform.”

“Quite right.” Inspector Garrick’s mouth set in a bleak line. “That’s the bad news I alluded to. On arriving at the brothel yesterday with my officers, we discovered that Mrs. Pritchard had already fled. Our subsequent efforts at finding her have so far proved fruitless. She’s either very well hidden, or…”

“Or what?” Miles asked.

Garrick gave them an apologetic grimace. “Or she’s no longer in London.”

• • • • •

Miles paced the hall, stopping intermittently to check the time on his pocket watch. Their bags had already been packed and secured atop the carriage. All that was missing was Nell.

It wasn’t like her to be late. As a former schoolteacher, she was typically a pattern card of promptness. Miles would have expected her to be even more so today. Their train was leaving Euston Station at half past ten. They had to be on it if they were to reach Northwick Hall before one.

He was about to go to her room to see what was taking her so long when Nell appeared at the top of the stairs.

At least, he believed it was Nell.

Miles stared up at her, rendered temporarily speechless.

She looked very different from her usual self. And her usual self was quite breathtakingly lovely. The heavy artillery, he’d called her when she was wearing lusterless black bombazine. But this…