Daniel raced back to New Bond Street. Finding the front door of the shop locked, he rapped several times. Panic flared. Betsy had said nothing about going out. He waited and rapped again.

The shuffling of feet on the tiled floor in the hall beyond caught his attention. “It’s Mr Thorpe, Betsy,” he said when the footsteps stopped and he sensed the modiste’s hesitation.

“Good Lord,” Betsy cried as she peeked around the jamb. “Give a lady a chance to reach the door.” She ushered him inside. “You’ll bring the house down if you knock any louder.”

His thunderous bangs on the door mirrored the wild thud of his heart. Since discovering it was Lily’s name on the strip of paper, he’d been forced to acknowledge his error. Lily played the victim as well as any consummate actress gracing the stage. He should have followed her, gathered more information before tearing off to Witham on a fool’s errand.

“Do you normally close the shop during the daytime?” he snapped.

“No, but with all the commotion this week I’m behind on my work. I closed the shop so we could concentrate on Lady Balthrome’s trousseau.”

The sound of feminine voices carried through from the parlour. “Has Mrs Chambers returned?” He craned his neck and stared down the corridor.

“No, not yet. But George … Mr Bostock said they’re calling at the circulating library and knowing Daphne she’ll take hours to choose a book.”

“Is there someone here with you?” Suspicion formed the basis of all his thoughts now. Of course, there was every chance the message on the paper was a warning for Lily and not a means of naming her as the traitor. “I assumed you worked alone.”

“Alone?” Betsy gasped. “Heavens, no. I have a contact in Spitalfields who hires girls by the hour. But I only use the service when I have to.”

“I see.” Daphne had said nothing about having strangers on the premises. Along with means and motive, opportunity was a key factor necessary for a person to commit a crime. “And you’re happy to vouch for the women you have working with you today?” He would take a list of their names later once he’d spoken to Daphne.

Betsy appeared a little confused. “I’ve worked with them all numerous times if that’s what you’re asking.”

He wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Then I’ll trouble you no further. I’m sure Mrs Chambers won’t mind if I wait for her upstairs.”

“I’m sure Mrs Chambers won’t mind you anything.” Betsy gave a coy grin.

There was nothing he could say to that, and so he inclined his head and walked away. He supposed he could make an amusing comment about Bostock, but he had more important things on his mind.

The high-pitched voices drew his attention back to the parlour. This time they were loud enough for him to make out the odd string of words. The women were discussing which one of them would make tea, and it brought to mind his earlier thought that a seamstress had the freedom of the house.

“Just a question if I may, Betsy,” he said, turning back to the modiste. “Do you choose the girls you hire or are they sent to you?”

“Mr Buchanan decides who to send. If I find their skills are poor, I can request he not send them again. But I’ve only done that once before.”

“And are the girls you employ free to roam the house?”

Betsy frowned. “Oh, there’s usually too much to occupy them down here. We tend to work together in one room. Except when one of us nips to the kitchen to make tea.” Betsy pursed her lips. “Why, is something wrong?”

To search Daphne’s room thoroughly, the intruder would need more than the ten minutes it took to boil water.

“I’m simply trying to establish if one of your seamstresses could have entered Mrs Chambers’ room unnoticed.”

Betsy shook her head and scrunched her nose. “But why would they want to do that?”

“Just humour me.” Daniel sighed. “So you’re saying no one would have had time to explore the upper floor?”

“Well, no. When you pay by the hour, you tend to keep a close eye on what they’re doing. The only time I’ve ever let a girl into my private room was when one pricked her finger on a needle and fainted.”

He imagined such a mishap was a regular occurrence. “And this was when?”

Betsy shrugged. “A few weeks ago.”

“And did you leave her alone?”

“Yes, she slept for almost an hour. The rest of us had to work our fingers to the bone to make up for lost time.”

Daniel dragged his hand down his face. “Let me guess. Was this girl petite, with golden hair and an angelic face?”

“Why, yes.” A smile touched Betsy’s lips, and she nodded. “The other girls thought we were twins.”

Bloody hell!

In all his years as an enquiry agent, he’d never been duped to this degree. Lily had batted her eyelashes and offered a pretty pout all in the hope of throwing them off the scent. Daniel had to give the woman some credit. Even he’d been convinced by her protestations.

The sudden thud on the front door startled them both.

Betsy gasped. “Lord above. What is it with everyone today?”

“Open the damn door,” Bostock cried. “Quick.”

Betsy hurried over and had barely turned the key in the lock when the door burst open.

Bostock stood before them, his eyes bulging as he struggled to catch his breath. Perspiration trickled from his brow.

Daniel looked beyond his friend’s shoulder, his heart ready to explode from his chest when he realised Bostock was alone.

“Where’s Daphne?” Daniel marched over and gripped Bostock’s arm. “Why isn’t she with you?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“You don’t know!” Daniel shook the man’s arm, desperate for an answer. “What the hell do you mean?”

“We were in the book shop. She wandered to the back shelves while I waited near the door.” Bostock scratched his head and mumbled to himself. “I’d have seen her if she’d left the shop.”

“Were you followed there?”

“No. Not that I noticed.” Bostock’s hands clenched into fists at his side. “I should have paid more attention. I should have stayed at her side. One minute she was there, the next she’d disappeared.”

“People do not simply disappear,” Daniel replied through clenched teeth.

Betsy moved to pat Bostock’s arm. “Think, George,” she said. While her eyes looked fearful, her voice was calm. “Did anyone speak to you? Did Daphne mention going anywhere else? Was there another exit that you failed to notice?”

Bostock shook his head. “No. There was a door leading to the back yard, but Mrs Chambers wouldn’t have left without telling me. I’d have heard raised voices if someone had tried to lead her astray.” Bostock turned to Daniel, his expression slack, his eyes dull. “I’ve let you down.”

Feeling a wave of compassion, Daniel gripped his friend’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Bostock. We have been chasing our tails for the last few days. Looking in all the wrong places.”

Indeed, he was just as much to blame. A man of his skill should have questioned Lily’s word, but his thoughts were not his own. Love, an intense craving, and a profound sense of longing had captured him mind and body. The only puzzle he was interested in solving related to his future with Daphne.

Daniel let out a weary sigh and then straightened his shoulders. “You’re to come with me to Wapping, Bostock.” Daphne would not have left the shop with a man; he was convinced of it. Which meant Lily had lured her away from Bostock. “We have a traitor to catch.”

“What about Captain Lewis?” Bostock asked. “We know nothing about his motives.”

“He’s not our man,” Daniel replied with some certainty. “The list of names were just a ruse to throw us off the scent.”

The sudden knock on the door sent a wave of relief surging through Daniel’s body. Betsy rolled her eyes, but Daniel rushed to the door and flung it open.

“Daphne.” The word died on his lips as he stared at the boy’s dirty face.

“Are you Thorpe?”

Daniel nodded. “I am.”

The boy thrust the note at him. “I’ve been told to give ya this.”

As soon as Daniel’s fingers gripped the paper, the boy ran off down the street. With a sense of trepidation, Daniel peeled back the folds and read the few lines written inside. Fear clutched him by the throat, the lack of air to his lungs making him dizzy.

“What is it?” Betsy hugged Bostock’s arm, and they both stepped forward. “Is it news of Daphne?”

“Yes.” Daniel took a moment to compose himself. He was no good to anyone if he let his emotions rule him. He needed the old Thorpe. The cold, detached gentleman who followed logic not his heart in cases such as these.

“Is she all right?” Betsy snivelled.

God, he hoped so. The world would feel the full wrath of the Devil if anything happened to her. “Lily Lawson is holding her at the docks. I’m to meet her there tonight at eight o’clock, in Lower Shadwell, south of the basin.” He whipped his watch from his pocket and checked the time. He had hours to prepare.

“What can we do to help?” Bostock asked solemnly.

“I’m to go alone. Should Lily catch sight of anyone else she will kill Daphne.”

Bostock squared his hunched shoulders. “But tell me you don’t intend to do as she says?”

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. I need time to form a plan.”