Free Damsel in Distress by Joan Smith Page A

related her morning exploits to her sister-in-law over lunch.
    “But the man did not follow Newt when he left?” she asked.
    “No, I watched for quite ten minutes. He must have circled around some other way.”
    “Your wits are gone begging, Caro,” Georgie said, with a sharp look. “It is not Newton he is following. It is you. Newton said he first noticed the carriage when he brought you home last night. And this morning when he called on you, it was at your corner again. He did not follow Newt here; he was here watching your house. I wager he is still lurking around the corner even as we speak.”
    “Good God! Why would anyone be watching me?”
    “Newton was right about one thing. It has to do with that visit to the Pantheon last night. And perhaps with the vanished necklace as well.”
    Caroline sat, momentarily stunned into silence. Her frown slowly faded, to be replaced by a diabolical smile. “I shall be going out to New Bond Street this afternoon, Georgie. Will you come with me? You are always complaining of a lack of excitement. My shadow might provide us some amusement.”
    “Oh, I couldn’t!” Georgiana exclaimed, but there was an unaccustomed note of excitement in her voice.
    “Why not? He cannot harm us in the middle of London. I shall try Newton’s ruse of escaping the man, and following him to see where he goes.”
    “You still carry that pistol in the side pocket of your rig?”
    “Always, and I know how to use it, too.”
    Two spots of red burned high on Georgiana’s sallow cheeks. “I ’ ll do it!” she said, and laughed a tinny laugh.
    Immediately after lunch the ladies dressed and had the carriage brought around. Watching from the rear window, they saw the dark carriage turn the corner and follow them when they left.
    “This all began at the Pantheon last night,” Caroline said, smiling wickedly. “We shall lose him at the Pantheon Bazaar. Miss Millar will let us slip out her back door. I buy a deal of ribbon and lace from her. We shall have a hansom cab waiting for usthere. The footman can arrange it while John Groom minds the carriage. My shadow will stick with the carriage, I think.”
    They followed this plan. Miss Millar, who operated a drapery shop at the Pantheon Bazaar, was entirely agreeable to helping out a good customer. She would have assumed Lady Winbourne was arranging a romantic tryst, were it not for the old malkin with her. Caroline and Georgiana spent ten minutes rooting through trays of lace. At the end of that time, Miss Millar beckoned them to the rear of the store.
    “The hired hack is here, your ladyship.”
    “Thank you, Miss Millar,” Caro said, dropping a coin into her hand. “If a nondescript gentleman comes in here asking for me, don’t tell him I have left. You are quite busy, so you can pretend you did not notice me.”
    “Oh lawks, your ladyship. Just like a play on the stage. I’ll not whiddle the scrap.”
    “Thank you.”
    They slipped out the back door to the hired carriage and asked the groom to drive around and wait a half block away. They pointed out the carriage he was to follow, at a discreet distance. It was a long wait. Their pursuer could not believe Lady Caroline had tipped him the double. He went from shop to shop, peering in at the windows. After half an hour, he knew she had given him the slip and returned to his own rig.
    “There, he is leaving now!” Caroline said, and pulled the drawstring to alert the driver.
    To her considerable consternation, the carriage they were following drove to Berkeley Square, where it circled the block, obviously awaiting her return. She managed to foil him to the extent of scampering into her own house unseen while he was around the corner, but she had still not learned where he came from.
    “Who can he be? Why is he following me?” she asked.
    “I cannot imagine,” Georgiana said.
    “It must have to do with Lady Helen and the necklace. The man will surely not watch the house all night. He