Sera stared at Tamsin, the girl who had been her dearest friend and closest confidante before she’d married Jonathan, in wonder. Where have you been, all this time? And why are you saying this now?
“That is quite enough, Lady Trewlnany,” Bell sputtered, grabbing Tamsin’s arm. Before Sera could think how to react, Adam Anderson threw himself on top of Bell, pulling him away from Tamsin. And then the crowd flew into such chaos she could not tell who was what.
Her heart pounded in her chest so hard that it was painful. Breathe, she ordered herself. Stand strong. But in the sea of thrown fists, shouting men, and scared women rushing for the doors, she felt her knees go unsteady. She clenched her forearms on the podium to steady herself.
Cornelia and Thaïs rushed toward her. “I need to get off this stage,” Sera whispered. “Right now.”
Cornelia took Sera’s arm. “Let’s get her upstairs to Jack’s rooms.”
Sera let them guide her behind the curtain, trying to remain tall and steady even as the room went black and started spinning.
Thaïs grabbed her by the waist with both arms. “Can you climb the stairs?”
“I think so,” Sera gasped. “Bloody hell, they are going to think I was afraid and ran.”
“They are in too great a disarray to think anything. Jack will clear the whole place out before he gets arrested for inciting a mob.”
Sera focused on climbing, one foot in front of the next, trying not to think of the cramping in her gut. A decade passed as she climbed two flights of stairs. An eternity. An eon.
When they were finally above the shop she staggered into Jack’s rooms.
“Where’s Elinor?” Sera asked, looking about.
“She made it out the back,” Cornelia said. “She’s safe for now. She’ll stay in Surrey until this quiets down.”
At least there was that. She sat down, trying to get ahead of the nausea that wanted to send her to the floor knees first. But she could not catch her breath. Her shoulders began to shake. She felt like she had when—
No. No. No.
“I need Hawksmoor,” she gasped. She could scarcely form words for the fear settling in her throat, making it difficult to swallow air. “Something is wrong.”
Adam did not know how many hands tugged at him as he made his body a barrier between Bell and Lady Trewlnany. He looked out behind him, to see if Sera was caught in the fray, but she had disappeared from stage. He prayed that meant she was safe.
“Come with me,” he said to the baroness. “I’ll get you to safety.”
A man reached out and tried to drag her back toward Bell. “Let go of her,” Adam shouted, tossing the pest aside with one hand as he clamped the baroness to his chest with the other.
“She’s in defiance of her husband,” another man shouted.
“I reckon her husband has bigger problems at the moment than a defiant wife,” Adam snarled back, pushing him aside. He was grateful for his height and strength as he struggled through the shouting throng toward the street, Lady Trewlnany huddled under one arm.
“Thank you,” she gasped when they reached the pavement. She was ashen.
He nodded, releasing her gently to make sure she was steady on her feet. “You were brave in there. Can I hail you a hackney cab?”
“No, I have a carriage waiting.” She pointed, and he saw the vehicle had Pendrake’s family’s seal.
“It’s my mother-in-law’s,” she said, gesturing at the seal with a laugh that sounded somewhat hysterical. “She thinks I’m at a gown fitting.”
He bowed, eager to get back inside to find Sera, but Lady Trewlnany kept speaking.
“You’re Seraphina’s friend, are you not? The one I saw with her at the inn in Cornwall?”
Adam nodded. He hoped Sera would still count him as a friend.
“I was once lucky enough to call her a friend myself,” the baroness said, her voice heavy with emotion. “If you see her, please tell her I have read her book, and am so sorry for everything that happened.”
Whatever her husband’s failings, this woman seemed to genuinely care for Seraphina.
“Baroness, may I ask you a question?” he said. “Did your husband leave birds at Seraphina’s house? In Cornwall?”
Lady Trewlnany stared at him blankly. “Birds?” she asked.
“Aye,” he said. “A basket of them. Dead. With a threatening note.”
She inhaled sharply. “Were they kingfishers?”
“Aye.”
“Oh good heavens,” she whispered. “My children keep them as pets. A few went missing over the summer and we didn’t . . . Oh, good heavens. Please tell her I’m sorry.”
She rushed tearfully to her carriage before Adam could reply.
“Oh, Mr. Anderson, thank God,” a cockney voice cried out from behind him. He turned around to see Miss Magdalene rushing out of the shop in his direction. Her pale skin was so white her freckles looked lurid.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
She held out a slip of paper. “I need a favor, urgently. Please can you deliver this note to Alison Hawksmoor at Candlelighter Mews. If she is not at home, find the nearest physician.”
Dread pulsed in his chest. “Has someone been injured?” Don’t let it be Seraphina.
Miss Magdalene looked him dead in the eyes. “I’m not sure, but it’s serious. Hawksmoor will understand. Go, right away.”
He nodded and went racing through the crowded streets. The address wasn’t far. He frantically shouted to a groom for the right door. A middle-aged woman answered when he knocked.
“Are you Mrs. Hawksmoor?”
“I am,” she said cheerfully.
“A note for you. It’s urgent.” He handed her the paper and watched her face intently as she read it.
The woman frowned. “Miss Arden? I didn’t know she was breeding.”
Breeding?
But did that mean—could it be—fucking hellfire.
“What is the nature of her complaint, do you know?” Mrs. Hawksmoor asked.
He tried to find his voice.
“Sir?” she pressed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know. She was giving a speech, and a great mob appeared and interrupted her.”
“She must have had a fright. Shock can be bad for a babe. Though Miss Arden is a steady type. You though, sir, do not look steady at all. Is the child yours?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Yes. Probably. God bedamn me.”
The woman patted his back. “Don’t fret, sir. Whatever happens, she’s strong. And you must be strong for her. Wait here while I gather my things.”
She ducked into an alcove and reemerged with a satchel, wearing a cloak. He led her briskly through the narrow streets back to Jack Willow’s. The crowd had thinned outside of the shop, and they were able to get inside without a fight. Willow and another man were in their shirtsleeves, sweeping up the mess left by the throng.
“You’re the midwife?” Jack asked Mrs. Hawksmoor.
“I am.”
“Thank God. She’s upstairs, in quite a bit of distress. Go quickly.” His eyes fell on Adam, nothing short of murder in them. “But you are not welcome here.”