This earned the man a raised brow from the earl.
“That is, not exactly like,” added the innkeeper, clearly sensitive to the reactions of his customers. “But well dressed, with fine boots and a fancy coat with a deal of capes.”
“He was driving himself?”
“Yes, my lord. One of them high-perch phaetons. Back wheels up to here.” The man held a hand above his shoulder.
“He had a blue waistcoat with yellow stripes,” piped up the young ostler. “Bright as bright. Never seen nothing like it.”
“Did he?” The earl looked thoughtful, as if this meant something.
“What about Maria?” Tom exhibited the sketch again.
“The young…lady seemed to be enjoying herself,” the innkeeper replied. “I believe she had some refreshment while they were here.”
The ostler spoke again despite his master’s discouraging glances. “She told me, ‘I’m riding high, I am.’ And she laughed.”
“What did he look like, the man she was with?” asked Lord Macklin.
The innkeeper grew uneasy. “Is there some trouble, my lord? I wouldn’t want to—”
“The young lady is missing,” the earl told him.
Teresa wondered if revealing this was the best course of action. But it was too late to protest.
“Missing.” The innkeeper looked more anxious.
“We are looking for her,” the earl added. “And would appreciate your aid.”
There was a brief gleam, as of a gold coin, Teresa thought. Of course the earl knew the power of money. She felt both grateful for and resentful of his help.
“The gentleman didn’t get down from his phaeton.”
“He wore a scarf that hid most of his face,” said the ostler, clearly relishing his position as informer. “He seemed in a hurry, like.”
The lad might be embroidering his tale, Teresa thought. But Maria speaking to him had clearly left a strong impression.
“Was he fat, thin, tall? Dark-haired? Light?”
“I couldn’t say, my lord,” replied the innkeeper. “Like I mentioned, he wore a long coat. A hat too. And he didn’t get down.”
Lord Macklin asked a few more questions, but he discovered nothing more, and soon after this they resumed their drive back to London.
“The striped waistcoat suggests this fellow is a member of the Four-Horse Club,” said the earl.
“What is that?” Teresa asked.
“A group that drives racing vehicles one behind the other to Salt Hill to have their dinners,” he answered dismissively. “And then they come back.”
“But why?”
“To excite admiration and envy,” he answered. “They hope.”
“Sounds daft to me,” said Tom. “Can’t they can get a better dinner in London?”
“Certainly,” said the earl. “But not draw as much attention to themselves.”
“Are there a great many of them?” Teresa asked.
“I do not know the exact number. I will inquire.”
“They must keep a list of members.”
“You could act like you want to join up,” said Tom. “Say you’d like to know who’s who before you decide.”
The older man’s expression showed his distaste for this idea. “If I must.”
“We would not want you to inconvenience yourself.” Teresa hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic. This man seemed to magnify all her emotions.
He acknowledged her barb with a nod. “You are right. We must do whatever is required to find out what happened to the dancers.”
She felt rebuked.
“But we must also take care that our quarry doesn’t notice the hunt,” he added.
“Miss Deeping and the others could ask about Richmond Park at all these parties they’re invited to,” said Tom. “Like they want to know if it’s worth a visit. Maybe find out who’s been there lately. Who’s also in this horse club.”
“They might do that,” the earl agreed. “Carefully.”
“If they have not tired of their ‘investigation’ by this time.” Everything she said was coming out caustic, Teresa thought. What had become of her serenity? It was true she had no great confidence in the young lady detectives. The many amusements of the ton had probably diverted them already. But she needn’t have said so.
“They won’t have done that,” said Lord Macklin.
Tom indicated agreement.
“So you will allow these young ladies to continue?” she asked the earl.
“However would I stop them?”
“By speaking to their parents, I suppose. Wouldn’t they forbid it?” English families were not so different from the one she’d grown up in; Teresa had seen this for herself.
“That’d be low,” said Tom.
He was frowning at Teresa for the first time that she could remember. “I didn’t mean he should,” she added.
“I don’t see why I should interfere,” said Lord Macklin. “Miss Julia Grandison may do that. But what happens then will be up to the young ladies.”
“They’ve gotten ’round her before,” said Tom. He and the earl exchanged a smile.
They seemed to share a real comradeship. She had seen them together a good deal by this time, and the aristocrat never condescended to the former street urchin. It was puzzling. Teresa looked from one to the other. “You take them so seriously?”
“I do,” replied the earl. “I have observed them in action. It is impressive.”
Tom nodded admiringly. “You should see Miss Deeping with her charts,” he said. “And Miss Moran with her books, Miss Finch ‘organizing.’”
“Miss Ada Grandison is most adept at interrogation.” Macklin’s tone held amusement, but he also seemed to mean it.
“They are young ladies,” said Teresa. She couldn’t quite believe that this aristocratic man respected females’ abilities.
“Older than me,” said Tom. He gestured to emphasize his presence as part of their quest.
The case was completely different, and they knew it, Teresa thought.
“You don’t think young ladies can have such skills?” asked Lord Macklin. “I’m surprised. I would have thought you held the opposite opinion.”