Free An Unlikely Alliance by Patricia Bray Page A

experienced an investigator to try such a harebrained stunt without talking to him first. And Luke, while capable of such a scheme, had denied all involvement. Alexander believed his friend. Luke had no reason to lie. Besides, he knew Luke’s flair for mayhem. If Luke had been behind the kidnapping then Magda Bowman would have disappeared exactly according to plan, with no messy consequences. “Is there someone else who has reason to harm you?”
    She shook her head firmly. “No, no one. At first I thought they had mistaken me for someone else, but that doesn’t make sense, either.”
    “I know you wish that was true, but from what Alexander told me it sounds like they were definitely after you. And they knew just where and when to find you,” Luke interjected. From the wry expression on his face, Alexander knew that his friend was still disappointed that he had missed the excitement last night.
    “They must have been waiting for me,” she said, her eyes wide with remembered fright. “They must have followed me from Damon Lane. I wasn’t paying attention to the passersby when I left my lodgings, but as soon as I turned into the alley, there they were.”
    Luke gave a low whistle. “Damon Lane’s a pretty rough area. So how does a seamstress wind up living in such quarters?”
    “There are worse places than Damon Lane. My friend has lived there for years. It’s close to the theaters and relatively cheap. Not everyone can live in Mayfair,” she added pointedly.
    “My apologies if I offended you,” Luke said.
    Alexander wasn’t as concerned with her feelings. “You said your friend lived there?” Perhaps this was the connection he was looking for.
    “Mrs. Brightwell. She’s a dresser at the New Majestic theater. I’ve known her for years. I was a shop assistant to Mrs. Spenser, but when I fell ill this winter I lost my position and the lodgings that came with it. I’ve been staying with Mrs. Brightwell ever since.”
    He recognized the name of Mrs. Spenser, a popular mantua maker. He would check her story out, of course, but somehow he knew that she was telling the truth. No wonder she had been so hard to find. Who would have believed an unemployed seamstress was really the celebrated Mademoiselle Magda?
    “What you really want to ask is how I became a Gypsy fortune teller.”
    “I was getting to that.” He wondered why she didn’t try to play on his sympathies and elaborate on the hardships she had endured. But instead she glossed over her misfortune as if it was of no account, refusing to be pitied. He felt a reluctant admiration for her spirit.
    “Mrs. Brightwell works in the same theater where Madame Zoltana performs. When Madame Zoltana had her accident, Mrs. Brightwell suggested that I could take her place that night. She knew I could use the work, and between the two of them they were confident they could teach me enough for one evening’s performance.”
    “You hardly learned to cardsharp in a single day,” he pointed out drily.
    “Oh, that.” She actually blushed, displaying yet another trait that clashed with his preconceptions. “When I was young there was a Monsieur Villeneuve, who was a friend of my mother’s. I suppose he was a gambler but to me he was simply an older man who liked to speak French with Maman. Not knowing how else to amuse a small child, he once taught me how to stack a deck. After that, whenever he came to visit we would play cards and cheat each other outrageously.”
    “Now there’s a practical skill to teach a child,” Luke said admiringly.
    “Not really,” Magda disagreed. “I hadn’t played in years and when it came to that night I botched the reading. I really meant to predict that Foolish Pride would win.” She reached over and placed her hand on Alexander’s arm as if to convince him of her sincerity. “Everyone there agreed that he would win, so it seemed the safest thing to say.”
    He moved his arm away, reaching for his coffee so it did not