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few drops.

“The confession is properly notated and witnessed,” Ash pointed out when the assistant had done.

John Fielding nodded. “We expect nothing else from you. As well you obtained the confession immediately, considering the sad circumstance that followed.”

“I prefer to have the words while the witness is fresh,” Ash said. “I always try to obtain a statement early.”

Juliana listened to the conversation as they went over what they had. She sat, hands clasped in her lap over her fan. Although she was wearing one of her own gowns, it had been altered almost out of recognition, the extra flounces removed, the bows decorating the mid-green fabric stripped away. She wore a small hoop that barely filled out her hips, and she had no face paint, nor hair powder.

Juliana warmed to this new existence. The sounds and sights had reminded her that she was only one person among many, a comfort and a reminder that she was not the most important person in the world. Her father was positive that he was, and the secluded, exclusive life he led only enforced that opinion. She wouldn’t go back.

“And now the unfortunate female is dead,” the sighted brother, Henry, said. He was a large man, his features craggy, his clothes well worn and creased. People took his appearance at their peril, because inside that head was a fine mind, one that could write novels, government Green and White Papers and still run Bow Street Magistrate’s Court, the Old Bailey, and nearby Newgate Prison. They had never worked better.

“Yes, and you have the details. I strongly believe the Raven was involved.”

A low growl emanated from Henry Fielding’s throat. His brother spoke. “The sooner we have that miscreant under lock and key, the better. He is a menace, a scourge on our city. The murders of Rosa Connor and her husband? They got in the Raven’s way, tried to open a coffeehouse and refused to let him provide the insurance. We know it, but we can’t prove it, or rather, we can’t find witnesses willing to testify.” His voice rose with his anger, and tiny beads of spittle flew from his mouth. Juliana resisted her instinct to draw back.

Ash remained perfectly still, leaning on the large desk, his folder by his side. He must have spent many hours here. “You sent two men to my house. I’m honored you sent your own.”

John Fielding’s thin lips widened into a smile. “I’m glad you think so. We expect to develop the thief catchers we have at our disposal. A few are good enough for us to employ all the time. I have plans.”

“I’m sure you do.” Ash ventured no more, although Juliana suspected he had involved himself in whatever scheme the Fieldings were cooking up. “Your men were most efficient, for which I’m grateful. I won’t be making a habit of entertaining prisoners in my home, however well born they are.” He glanced at Juliana and smiled. “You are welcome there.”

“Then I’m privileged,” she said. She felt it. He hadn’t just given her safe harbor, he’d let her into his family home. She’d never been in a home before, and the experience was eye opening.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a near smile. “Thank you.”

Ash opened his leather folder and took out another paper. “Lady Uppingham made a discovery that enforces our conclusions. This proves Lord Uppingham’s tendencies without a doubt,” Ash said, presenting the copy of the document Juliana had found yesterday.

If she had noticed anything about Ash, it was his love of dramatic conclusions. He loved surprising people, and liked to make a show. Not to center attention on him, but because he loved watching people. So she waited.

John Fielding motioned to his assistant, who read the document aloud. It revealed the key, or at least brought them nearer to their quarry. And finally explained why Godfrey had been murdered, the proposition to set up another house of correction.

“So,” John Fielding addressed his brother. “Lord Uppingham planned to open a club to rival that blasted House of Correction. He borrowed money to do so, and planned to use the dowry he would receive on his marriage.” He turned to his brother. “We’re assuming that the Raven took objection to that. The establishment is deep inside the territory he claims as his. Are there any more documents?”

Ash shook his head. “If there are, we don’t have them, but we do suspect that the Raven might have been planning to abduct Lady Juliana, as she was then, and hold her to ransom.”

Henry Fielding made a sound of disgust. “There’s too much of that going on.”

“Agreed,” Ash continued. “The Raven may have sent his threats verbally. That’s his usual habit.” He swallowed, no doubt recalling the verbal threat he had received on the night of the masquerade. Well, the man could do what he wanted, because Ash had well and truly ignored it.

John Fielding nodded. “Indeed it is. That makes the man more difficult to track, God rot him.” He glanced up, as if he could see when the door opened to admit a homely woman bearing a tray of tea.

Henry Fielding caught her hand. “Thank you, my dear. Is there any pressing matter I need to deal with?”

“No,” the woman answered. Before Juliana could greet her, she glided from the room.

Henry Fielding poured the tea. Only a brief pause fell before the plain white dishes were handed out, and then they continued as if there had been no interruption at all. John Fielding’s assistant took his master’s hand and curled it around the dish. The magistrate thanked him with a grunt.

“I see other names as subscribers,” Henry Fielding went on. After fumbling in his pocket, he found a pair of spectacles and perched them on his nose. “Ah, that’s better. Good Lord. The Prime Minister?”

Juliana wondered why his name had been there.

“I saw that,” Ash said. “I will be visiting him later to discover what he was about. If you see, the name has been crossed out.

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