Inwardly sighing, she sat back on her heels, ignoring the twinges in her thighs. She had to stop thinking of last night. She had to determine how on earth she was going to proceed after last night. It seemed she would be safe only on a crowded street in broad daylight, and she'd have to wear a mask under her veil as well.
It would be easy for her to communicate with him by letter, but she couldn't see any way he could reply. And she knew him too well to beard the tiger; if she cut off all contact entirely, he'd come after her. Not trying to discover her identity, but trying to discover her. He'd be very intent, very focused; in such a state, he'd be unstoppable.
And where would that leave her?
She didn't like to think.
No. Folwell would keep her
informed of Gabriel's movements. She would send him notes if necessary until they discovered something more, then she'd meet him in Grosvenor Square.
That brought her to the question of what more she could do to further their investigations. A vague recollection of Lady Hester Stanhope's diaries had her turning to scan the long border.
Rising, she dusted her gloves, then stripped them from her hands. Strolling to the long border, she made a show of evaluating the progress made, then nodded. "We've done enough for today." She met Mary's and Alice's bright eyes. "I want to visit Hookhams again. Would you like to come?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Now?"
Alathea turned to the house. "Just a quick visit-I'm sure your mama won't mind."
She found what she was after in the biography of an explorer-a bona fide map of Central East Africa showing more than the major towns. The map told her Fangak, Lodwar and Kingi-Kafia Kingi, to be precise-were indeed towns, albeit small ones.
Leaning back in the chair behind the desk in her office, Alathea pondered her discovery. Was it good? Or discouraging?
About her, the house was peaceful and still. The lamp on her desk shed light onto the open book. In the grate, embers gleamed, warming the night. She'd stolen every moment she could throughout the day to wade through the stack of biographies and diaries she'd borrowed from Hookhams. At last, she'd uncovered something-something real.
The information was good, she decided-at least it gave them something to check. Surely they'd be able to find someone other than the mysterious captain who knew the area, now she knew where the area was.
On the stairs, the long-case clock chimed the hour. Three o'clock, the beginning of a new day. Stifling a yawn, Alathea closed the book and rose. It was definitely time for bed.
The next day, she spent the afternoon within the hallowed halls of the Royal Society.
"Unfortunately," the secretary informed her, peering at her through a thick pair of pince-nez, "there are no lectures presently scheduled on Central East Africa."
"Oh. Can the society recommend any expert on the area with whom I could consult?"
The man pursed his lips, stared at her, then nodded. "If you'll take a seat, I'll check the records."
Retreating to a wooden bench along the wall, Alathea waited for fifteen minutes, only to have the man return, shaking his head and looking rather peeved.
"We do not," he informed her, "have any expert on East Africa listed. Three who could speak with authority on West Africa, but not the East."
Alathea thanked him and left. Pausing on the steps, she considered, then headed for her carriage. "Where can we find the city's map makers, Jacobs?"
Along the Strand, was the answer. She inquired at three separate establishments, and got the same answer at all three. For their maps on Central East Africa, they relied on explorers' notes. Yes, their present maps of the area were extremely short on detail, but they were awaiting confirmation.
"It wouldn't do, miss," one rigidly correct gentleman lectured her, "for us to publish a map on which we showed towns we weren't absolutely positive were there."
"Yes, I see." Alathea turned to leave, then turned back. "The explorers whose notes you're waiting to confirm-are they in London?"
"Regretfully no, miss. They are all, at present, in Africa. Exploring."
There was nothing to be done but smile, and leave. Defeated.
Alathea returned to Mount Street feeling unaccustomedly weary.
"Thank you, Crisp." She handed the butler her bonnet. "I think I'll just sit in the library for a while."