Miss Morgan and the Gypsy

Sixteen: Imbeciles

"Of what?"

"A cult. Maybe a criminal organization."

"But why a daisy?"

"I'm not sure. A daisy symbolizes purity and virginity, but none of these women seem exactly pure."

Nicu's mind drifted to the scene he had stumbled upon as he had chased after the woman in his clever disguise through the horse dung streets of London all the way to the thick human sewage, Thames River. "The woman I followed met with a person of six feet in height with a top hat crooked but nestled on his head. He disposed of Gracie's body in the Thames River as all criminals do and handed over her possessions to the woman. That's when I had seen the marking as if it had been burned on her skin."

Nicu pulled out the lighter and stared at the small fox insignia etched the back of it. "Kappi was able to steal it from the woman with expert ease. My next step is to go to the place that sold Gracie this lighter, maybe find out who she really is and who she works for."

Lord Rathborne stood from his settee and Nicu handed him the lighter. "Fairfox. Devon Fairfox. He makes and sells these lighters. He resides—"

"On Oxford Street. Yes, I know."

A rapping at the door caught both the men's attention and they turned to Lord Rathbone's flustered butler, Albert. His face was red, and he looked rather irritated. "I apologize my Lord, but Miss Beaumont demands to speak with you Detective Rowe. She says it is of great importance."

"Let her in," Nicu answered for Lord Rathborne who only grinned as Albert's face reddened even more. The angered man stepped over, holding the door open for the marvelous beauty. "My lady."

She entered with Harriet right behind her. Their looks a stark contrast of the other. One with sable hair, fair-skinned, eyes as blue as dazzling sapphires, and facial features sharp and smoldering. While the other was like a sprite, a mythical creature with translucent golden hair, a slender yet willowy body, and soft elegant features that beckoned men in dangerous forests with those becoming eyes.

"Albert, you said nothing of Miss Morgan," Nicu stated.

She reddened in response. "Rosa is a young woman meeting with two men alone. She must have a chaperone with her, or her reputation could be ruined."

"Harriet has been hired as my chaperone for this coming London season. Is that a problem she is here, Detective Rowe." Rosa glared at him; blue eyes sharp with dislike.

"Not at all, Miss Beaumont."

She lifts her chin, giving a subtle nod. "Good. I am here because Harriet is telling me I was possibly the intended target and how it might be best if I sit out this London season. Is this true? If so, this could hurt my chances at finding a suitable match. Should I alert my parents before their arrival at your London home, my lord?"

"No," Nicu objected, once again answering for Lord Rathborne. "I do not believe it was you they were after."

"But Harriet said—"

"She is not the detective. I am. Trust me, Miss Beaumont, you are in no danger."

Harriet's gaze went from polite and reserved to blazing fury. "How can you say that for sure?" Harriet retorted. "She could be in grave danger. I told you, Gracie was outside her door, shouting for the men."

"And how do you know she hadn't just stumbled down in her weakened state and couldn't get to the door she needed to be at?" Nicu retorted, drawing closer to Harriet in irritation and desire. "You found her crumbled to the floor did you not?"

"Yes, but—"

"She could've been letting them know the very person they needed wasn't in the room across from her but on that floor."