Page 83 of The Marriage Method

“That’s her name,” Miss Brent said. “Mrs. Pritchard. Though I didn’t know it ’til later.”

“And you told her who you were?” Garrick asked.

“I told the truth—that I was an orphan traveling to a charity school. I thought that would put her off me seeing as how I wasn’t nobody important, but she was even kinder then. She brought me a cup of tea and a piece of cake from the refreshment stand. I drank the tea and…I came over all faint-like.” Miss Brent’s lip quivered. “She said I needed to lie down, and I was too poorly to say different. The next thing I knew, I was in a room by myself with a locked door and no windows. I thought it must be at the railway station, but it wasn’t. It was in a house.”

“Was this the same day?” Garrick asked. “When you woke up?”

“The next, I reckon, or the day after. My mouth was all dry and my head hurt. I’d been sleeping a long while. And I think she’d been nursing me. I dreamed she came and gave me more tea to drink.”

Miles frowned. Adulterated tea, just as Cowgill had reported. He met Nell’s eyes, expecting her to exchange a knowing glance with him—to signal that their thoughts were tending in the same direction, as they so often had during their investigations. But she didn’t. Her gray gaze was oddly unfocused.

A growing sense of disquiet took root in his chest. Something wasn’t right.

“What happened next?” Garrick asked, his pencil poised.

“Mrs. Pritchard came the next morning,” Miss Brent said. “She told me…” The girl’s face flushed red. “She…She said I’d have a gentleman caller in the evening. That I was to behave if I knew what was good for me.”

Mrs. Royce’s eyes kindled with fury. Gabriel set a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Nell said to Miss Brent, so softly Miles could scarcely hear her. “You’re safe now.”

Miss Brent took a deep breath. “I knew I had to get away or else something bad was going to happen to me. I tried the door, but it was still locked. I called for help and no one answered. Except…I heard someone else calling for help, too. A man.”

Miles regarded the girl with sharp attention.

“What did you do then?” Garrick asked.

Miss Brent flashed a questioning look at Nell and Mrs. Royce. “I don’t rightly know…”

“Tell the inspector everything,” Mrs. Royce said. “You won’t be in any trouble.”

Miss Brent worried her lip in her teeth for several seconds before making her answer. “I used my hairpins to unlock the door from the inside.”

“Clever girl,” Mrs. Royce said approvingly.

Miss Brent sat up a little taller, bolstered by the praise. “I crept out of the room into a dark hall. I was in the attic, I think. There was another door there. I heard the man’s voice behind one of them. ‘Help me! Please help me!’ he said. So, I unlocked his door, too.” A glimmer of annoyance passed over her face. “I wish I hadn’t,” she added uncharitably. “He burst out, making such a racket, shouting and stumbling all over as we went down the stairs. Mrs. Pritchard and her man, Silas, came straightaway. Mrs. Pritchard went after the man and Silas tried to grab me. I scratched his face. And then—” She shrugged. “I ran out of the house.”

Miles opened his own notebook to the sketch of Lawrence Cowgill. He crossed the room to Miss Brent to show it to her. “Is this the man you set free from the room at Mrs. Pritchard’s?”

Miss Brent bobbed her head up and down. “That’s him.”

Miles met Garrick’s eyes. “Lawrence Cowgill.”

Garrick gave a somber nod. “Did you see what happened to this man?” he asked Miss Brent.

“Mrs. Pritchard chased him into a room off of the hall,” she replied. “I heard a crash. I reckon he tripped, but I couldn’t stop to help him.”

Garrick’s pencil scratched steadily in his notebook.

“Will that be all, Inspector?” Mrs. Royce inquired.

“One more question.” Garrick addressed Miss Brent. “Do you mind telling me where you’ve been since Wednesday?”

“I got a job working as a scullery maid,” Miss Brent said as if it were the most rational thing in the world.

“A job?” Garrick queried, puzzled. “Where?”

“At Mrs. Davenant’s house in Whitechapel Road,” Miss Brent said. “Mrs. Pritchard stole my railway ticket and pocket money. I had to earn enough to pay the fare to Miss Corvus’s Academy.”