Whitechapel Wagers 02 - Wanton Wager Read Free Page A

look her in the eye. There was no word of Beth, hadn’t been since the Monday before. Ada had knocked on doors, sent notes along to a few family members who lived nearby, questioned their usual patrons at the pub—all to no avail. Beth had gone to visit Nancy, who lived just along the Whitechapel Road. Nancy did piecework sewing and Beth sometimes helped her for a few pence or as much as a shilling if it was a fancy job. Ada had always been awed at the delicate beauty Beth could render with fabric and thread. The girl had a real talent. But she was of the age when every man turned her head. This earl, if he truly existed, had certainly done so.
    “Tomorrow I will go and speak with Nancy again. Beth may have sworn her to secrecy about some foolish plan, but I will make her tell me the truth. And I will go back to the station on Leman Street.”
    Though her mother insisted they would be no help, Ada went to the police the moment they realized Beth had not returned to her bed on Monday night. The young man at the station dutifully took down all the details Ada provided, scant as they were, and a constable called the following day—to the consternation of some of their rowdier patrons—to discover if Beth had returned home. When they told him she had not, he assured them the police would continue to make inquiries. Still, Ada had made plenty of her own.
    Her mother’s expression indicated her complete lack of faith in the Metropolitan Police force.
    “They cannot even catch the creature slashing women all around us. How can they find one slip of a girl?”
    It was no use arguing with her. The only thing that seemed useful was a few hours of sleep.
    “Get some sleep, Mother. We shall start again tomorrow.”
    Ada watched her mother walk toward her bedroom and took a moment to peek in on Vicky, who lay snug in her cot cuddling a ragged stuffed bear, before cleaning up in the wash basin and lowering herself onto her own narrow bed.
    Sleep swept down on her swiftly and she let herself sink into it. It was still early evening, though it had been one of the longest days she could ever remember. The pub still reverberated with conversation, the clink of dishes, and the occasional angry shout, courtesy of toughs like Angus McCutcheon. But the sounds were familiar to Ada, comforting. She turned her head on the pillow and knew she would finally sleep.
    “Miss Ada.”
    A hand lay heavy on her shoulder and her first thought was to push it away. Sleep was a sweet balm, a deep, dark abyss she did not want to come out of. But her arms were pinned beneath the blanket and she came more fully awake.
    One thought consumed her. Beth.
    She bolted up and recognized Billy in the dim light of the room. As assistant to Harry, part-time barman, and occasional help to the cook, he must have been the obvious man to spare to come and wake her.
    “Is it Beth?”
    “No, miss. It’s a gentleman ‘ere to see you.”
    “A gentleman? Who?”
    “Never saw ‘im before in me life. I was of a mind to send the toff on his way, but then I thought. Well, maybe ‘e knows sumfink of your sister.”
    “Did he ask for me directly?”
    Billy shook his head. “Just asked for Miss ‘Amilton.”
    Could it be this Frederick gentleman Beth had spoken of? If it was, would he have answers about Beth’s whereabouts? Ada couldn’t stifle the hope bubbling up inside.

CHAPTER THREE
    Will did not expect to find Miss Hamilton living above a taproom in Whitechapel. He directed the hansom driver to the address Ashdowne gave him and was surprised to be dropped at the doorstep of a rather noisy, ramshackle public house. He knew he looked a fool to all those who spared him a glance, dressed in his best clothes and bearing gifts for a lady. The barkeep turned out to be the least welcoming Will had ever met in his life. When Will asked for Miss Hamilton, the giant of a man turned an alarming shade of red before begrudgingly pointing to a dark stairwell near the bar.
    Now,