“You know, I am not surprised,” said Sabina after Zan and Caradon took turns telling her about the latest strange coincidences and their suspicions. The three of them were traveling in a hackney to Del’s residence which was across town. “Southmore always seemed like an unsavory character to me. Did you know that the man asked me to marry him, twice?”
“Twice?” said Zan, surprised. “I never saw him look at you more than once.”
“That’s what he likes other people to see. Before my marriage to Ackert, but while we were engaged, Southmore professed his love for me and begged me to run away with him. You can guess how well that went over. He was already the Church’s emissary—and the man is older than you or I by at least three decades.”
“Haven’t emissaries from the Church taken a vow of chastity?”
“That’s what I asked him, but he told me he would break from the Church if I said yes. But there was just something about him—other than his age and his occupation—that really put me off. Ackert may have been an old dullard, but at least he was never cruel, if you take my meaning.”
Zan nodded. “But twice?”
“Of course, he never asked me while I was married. And for a while, I felt safe from his advances. And then my husband passed away. I suppose I cared for Ackert, in a way, but I never really loved him. I think Southmore knew that—so it wasn’t yet one week after my husband’s funeral that he asked me to marry him again. At the time, I was also visiting Del, who had been supportive through the ordeal and he had come by, worried that Southmore was unnecessarily bothering me. I refused Southmore, again, and the man went into a terrible temper—accusing me of having an affair behind my husband’s back. The nerve of him! I didn’t love Ackert, but I was at least faithful to my husband.”
“And Del witnessed his entire tirade?”
Sabina smiled in memory. “He is a loyal friend. He defended my honor rather admirably. Southmore, however, had to go around for the rest of the week with a black eye.”
The hackney jolted to a halt in front of a row of tidy townhouses. Sabina stepped off first. From within the vehicle, Zan heard her friend loudly exclaim, “Oh, good morning constable, a fine day, isn’t it?”
How did they…
Before Caradon could finish that thought, Zan scooped him up into her arms and descended the hackney. As the driver of the vehicle clicked to his horses and rode away with the clatter of wheels, the constable in front of Del’s residence in a starch uniform made a bow to Sabina and Zan and said, “Good morning ladies. May I ask who you might be, visiting this neighborhood at this hour?”
“Well,” Sabina said, mustering up an indignant tone. “I always come to this neighborhood at this hour. Everyone here knows who I am. Why should you know?”
“I apologize, ma’am, but the authorities have all been instructed to be on the look out for certain persons of interests.”
“Oh really? Are these persons of interests wanted for some kind of crime?”
“The Church has told the chief that these persons are conspiring against the Queen. Treason is a serious offense, but the Church has yet to provide any evidence. So as a benefit of a doubt, the chief has ordered everyone on the force to look out for these persons—but it is only for twenty-four hours, you understand.”
“Why twenty-four hours?”
“Well, if there is still no evidence against these persons of interest, the chief will drop the case. You can’t accuse everyone of treason and expect them to be all charged. Innocent people would be implicated simply because someone else bears a grudge against them.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Your name, ma’am?”
“Mrs. Sabina Felis-Ackert,” she replied in ringing tones. “Now if you will excuse us…”
“And miss?” the constable asked, turning to Zan.
Sabina took a step to slightly obscure his view. “That is my cousin Solange, from the Continent,” she said before Zan could speak. “I’m afraid she doesn’t know the language, my dear constable, so I’m accompanying her to see the sights.”
“And what is that?”
The black fox in Zan’s arms hid his face in her bosom. Caradon!
He peeked up at her, his silver gaze smug. You’re soft. And you smell wonderful.
Zan gave a sigh.
One of Sabina’s eyebrows went up. “My cousin’s little dog. Quite an affectionate fellow, isn’t he? I’m assured that the breed makes excellent companions. You know, like a lap dog or a bed warmer.”
“Lap dog?” the constable repeated. He reached out as if to touch him, but Caradon whipped his head around and barked before barring his teeth. The constable quickly withdrew his hand. “Uh, excitable little fellow, isn’t he?”
“He makes an excellent watchdog. He’s quite protective of my cousin.”
“Right,” said the constable, as he slowly backed away as Caradon gave a menacing snarl for good measure. “Well, I must be on my way, again, good morning ladies.”
Sabina gave the faintest nod in acknowledgement before walking up the stairs to the front door of Del Garrou’s residence. Zan followed after she let Caradon back on the ground. After a swift knock, the door was answered by a portly middle-aged gentleman who glanced at Sabina and then Zan with resignation.
“You’ll find Mr. Garrou in the dining room,” the butler said tiredly.
“Is he still eating breakfast?” demanded Sabina. She marched through the foyer with Zan and Caradon behind her. They heard the butler close the door just as they turned a corner and entered a dining room wallpapered in a tasteful beige and brown design and occupied by an enormous mahogany table supported by legs with feet carved to resemble animal paws.
Del was wearing a light gray-green suit and sitting at the end of the table reading a newspaper. A plate of half-eaten sausages and a cup of tea lay forgotten in front of him. Slowly, he lowered the newspaper and observed his visitors. He smiled. “Why Sabina, how nice of you to drop by! And Zan, too! And another friend as well. Is he your beau, Zan?”
“He is not my beau!”
Caradon yipped, amused.
“Well, if you say so,” he replied.
“Del, we need a favor,” began Zan.
“You need to eat breakfast first,” Del interrupted. “There’s plenty of food.”
She glanced at the sideboard and only saw a platter filled with sausages. “Uh, no thank you. I already had breakfast.”
“You don’t offer sausages to a guest!” exclaimed Sabina. “You’re an idiot as well as a dunderhead.”
Del began grinning. “She called me a dunderhead yesterday, you know. It means she’s quite fond of me.”
Zan rolled her eyes.
Sabina colored. “Don’t sit there mincing words. This is a bit of an emergency. Zan and her patron are being pursued by the authorities. For at least twenty-four hours, at any rate, and they need to go undetected for that time. You don’t suppose you have some sort of disguise for Mr. Caradon?”
“Oh, is that Mr. Caradon?” Del peered at the black fox who gave him a steady stare. “Well, I suppose that’s all right since you’re one of us. Anyways, if we must disguise you, we will do it with style. I have a wonderful black greatcoat that could hide at least ten people!” He folded his newspaper and placed it back on the table before getting up and taking the plate with the unfinished sausage with him. “Come on, then, Caradon. I have everything upstairs.”
When her friend and the black fox exited the dining room, Sabina wrinkled her nose at the platter of sausages sitting on the sideboard. “Del has abominable eating habits.”
“I heard that!” came a masculine voice in the other room. “You should speak for yourself. Fish! Feh!”
