Today's Reading
Daisy's diatribe tailed off as a viscount approached, eager to accompany her in the next reel. She accepted with a smile, and Ellie glanced around to see if anyone was going to ask her to dance. Generally, she preferred to stay on the outskirts of the ballroom, happy to observe the dancing rather than take part, but "Henri Bonheur's" kiss had filled her with a strange, restless energy.
Her spirits lifted as a rather stocky, older man approached her, but they fell again when he introduced himself.
"Miss Law? I'm William Bullock, owner of the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly. Perhaps you've heard of it?"
Ellie shook his offered hand. "Indeed, I have, Mr. Bullock. I went there to see Bonaparte's carriage when it first went on display, a few months ago."
"You and half of London." Bullock gave a contented chuckle. "That's been my most popular display to date.
It's about to go on a tour of the country, so those in the provinces can see it too." His chest puffed out with pride, reminding her of a portly pigeon ruffling its feathers.
He pulled a large gold-cased pocket watch from his pocket, checked the time, then tucked it away again. "I hear you're acquainted with the investigator, Charles King?"
"That's true. I work as his legal researcher and amanuensis. He's a friend of my father's," she added, with blithe disregard for the truth. Her father had never met her "employer," for the simple reason that the latter was entirely fictional. Still, she'd long ago learned that any mention of her father inferred a measure of gravitas to the situation, and impressed men like Bullock no end.
"Ah. Good. Quite so. In that case, I was wondering of you could make an introduction between Mr. King and myself. I'd like to engage his services for a sensitive matter."
"I'm afraid Mr. King prefers to keep himself extremely private." Ellie leaned a little closer, as if to impart a great secret. "I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you, Mr. Bullock, that Mr. King is, in fact, a pseudonym to conceal his real identity."
Bullock's eyes widened.
Ellie nodded solemnly. "That's how he's achieved such great success. His anonymity is one of his greatest assets. He's free to move through society, unremarked, without people clamming up around him."
Bullock nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd as if he hoped to decipher which earl, duke, or viscount might be the infamous investigator. "Of course! That makes perfect sense."
Ellie silently congratulated herself on her brilliance "I'd be willing to pay handsomely for his assistance, of course," Bullock murmured. "Money is no object. I'll give five hundred pounds."
Ellie bit back a groan of disappointment. All the income from King & Co. was split evenly between herself, Daisy, and Tess. But whereas Daisy and Tess both had additional funds of their own, thanks to being the daughter of a duke, and a duchess, respectively, every penny Ellie earned was going toward her own independence. With enough money, the choice of whether she married or not would be hers, to be made for love and not for financial necessity.
It pained her to turn down what sounded like a particularly lucrative job, but since there was no way Bullock could possibly meet Mr. King, it had to be done.
"I'm afraid there can be no exceptions," she said firmly.
"I'm sorry. All communication must be done through either myself, Dorothea Hamilton, or Her Grace, the Duchess of Wansford."
Bullock let out an aggravated huff. "I already tried Miss Hamilton," he admitted. "She told me the same thing."
"And if Her Grace were here this evening, she'd agree."
Bullock gave an unhappy grunt. "That's a shame. I'm an honest man, Miss Law, and I've made my fortune through honest means. I like to look a man in the eye before I do business with him, and if Charles King can't trust me to keep his secret, then—"
"—he'll be unable to take your case," Ellie finished regretfully. "Mr. King is extremely—"
"Ah! Eleanor! There you are, my sweet! I've been looking for you all evening."
...
