At last, Alenda spotted him. Viscount Albert Winslow was dressed, not in his typical doublet and hose, but in a simple cloth shirt, wool pants, and a neatly tailored suede vest. His vestige was not entirely without noble adornment, sporting a lovely, if not ostentatious, plumed hat. He sat at a small table with a stocky, black-bearded man dressed in cheap work clothes.

On their approach, Albert Winslow stood and pulled out chairs for them. “Welcome, ladies,” he said with a cheerful smile. “So glad you were able to meet me this evening. Please sit down. May I order you both something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” Alenda replied. “I was hoping not to stay very long. My driver is not a considerate man, and I would like to conclude our business before he decides to strand us here.”

“I understand and, might I say, very wise of you, your ladyship. But I am sad to say your delivery has not yet arrived.”

“It hasn’t?” Alenda felt Emily give her hand a squeeze of support. “Is there something wrong?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know. You see, I am not privy to the inner workings of this operation. I don’t concern myself with such trifles. You should understand, however, this wasn’t an easy assignment. We have taken days to prepare, and any number of things could have transpired that might create delays. Are you sure there’s nothing I may order for you?”

“Thank you, no,” Alenda replied.

“At least take a seat, won’t you?”

Alenda glanced at Emily, whose eyes were awash with concern. They sat down, and as they did, she whispered to Emily, “I know, I know. I shouldn’t deal with thieves.”