The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [109]
Townsend whistled and raised his eyebrows. ‘She must be important to you.’
‘You mean the mother?’
‘Or the daughter.’
When Pyke looked up, he saw Emily’s servant, Jo, enter the taproom. Compared to the dressmakers and shop workers who frequented the tavern, she stood out in the surroundings almost as sorely as her mistress. Pyke excused himself and went to join her. They exchanged formal pleasantries and he suggested that the relative quiet of his garret might be a more convivial place to talk. As they ascended the staircase, he wondered why Emily had not come herself.
‘My mistress has asked me to pass on a message. She assured me you would know what it meant.’
With a buxom figure and a round, rosy-cheeked face that, above all, intimated a sense of ripeness, Jo seemed nervous and fidgeted as she stood in the doorway, unwilling to enter his room. Not for the first time, he was struck by the thought that he had come across her before.
‘I would be able to respond to that sentiment if I knew more about the message itself,’ he said, with a smile.
‘Of course.’ She seemed flustered. Pyke wondered whether it had been wise to bring an unaccompanied young woman - Emily’s servant, no less - up to his garret.
‘Tomorrow, at six in the morning.’ Jo looked at him. ‘She said you would know what it meant.’ Jo had painted her eyelashes and Pyke wondered whether this was usual for a servant.
It was the time that the armoured carriage was due to depart from the Bank of England. Again he wondered why Emily had opted to send her servant with such an important message. Since he could not ask Jo such a direct question, he enquired after Emily’s health. Jo informed him that her mistress was perfectly well.
Despite her apparent nerves, Jo did not seem to be in any hurry to leave. Instead, she removed her bonnet and started to rearrange her hair. Without it, he was able to admire her smooth round face, her flawless pale skin and her extraordinary red hair.
‘I made sure no one followed me,’ she said, still unwilling to meet his stare. Her accent indicated a certain level of education. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be gone in a minute.’
‘Please, take all the time you need.’ Pyke watched as she bent forward to attend to her boots. He found himself wondering what her relationship with Emily was like and whether there was any kind of ulterior motive to her presence in his room. He also didn’t know what she knew about him and whether he could trust her.
‘There.’ Jo stood up and smiled. ‘Done.’
She went to retrieve her bonnet but Pyke had already picked it up. He handed it to her. ‘This may sound like an immodest question, but are you aware of who I am?’
Jo stared down at her feet. ‘My mistress felt it was necessary to inform me of certain things.’
‘Such as?’ He raised his eyebrows, half-aware that he might be flirting with her.
‘That, unless crossed, you were not a dangerous man. That you didn’t tolerate fools. That your bark was worse than your bite.’ She looked away and blushed slightly. ‘She also warned me you were . . . rather dashing.’
‘She said that?’
‘Well, she actually said exceedingly dashing but I thought I’d appeal to your modesty.’ Jo laughed nervously. She seemed more confident of herself now and even allowed her gaze to meet his.
‘And why do you think Emily furnished you with this information?’ Pyke watched her carefully. She was remarkably attractive. He wondered whether she was aware of this fact.
‘I don’t know. To warn me, perhaps.’
‘Warn you to be on your guard?’ Pyke could not help but smile at this prospect. Clearly Emily did not trust him, but did he trust her? And could he be certain that her loyalties did not, as she put it, lie at Hambledon?
‘Have we met somewhere before?’ He studied her features closely.
‘Aside from when you first visited my mistress in Islington . . .’
‘Your face seems familiar,’ he said, absent-mindedly. ‘It’s a pretty face, of course . . .’
Jo blushed again and edged towards the door. Impulsively, he moved into the space between them, leaned forward and kissed her on the