The Debutante (The Sinclair Society Series, Book Two) Rough Draft

Chapter Five

It had been an afternoon well spent, and though I was tired with a great deal to think on, I was ready to return to my duties satisfied. Upon returning to the Dunbar house, however, I spotted Mr. Daniel Dunbar skulking around the servants entrance, looking as though he were watching for someone. I had the suspicion that he was searching for me. I'd managed to avoid having any contact with him for nearly a week and had no desire for that to change.

To enter through the front door, though, would be completely unacceptable. Out of sight of the servant's entrance, I considered how I could enter the house without him seeing me.

As it happened, my attention was caught by a boy who was racing by on the street. Making a quick decision, I called out softly, "Boy! A moment!"

Boys such as him were often employed as messengers for a small coin and he raced to me. I had such a coin and I held it up for him to see. "Kindly go the front door of this house and say you have a message for Mr. Daniel Dunbar. A message you can give only to him. Will you do that for me?"

"What message?" he asked, his gaze on the coin.

"No message. When the butler or footman goes to fetch Mr. Dunbar, you may run off."

The boy frowned and then shrugged his shoulders. "I'll do it."

I pressed the coin into his hand and watched him go on his way. I returned to where I could peek at the servants entrance. Within a few minutes, the footman, George, appeared and spoke to Mr. Dunbar. The man scowled but hurried into the house. I waited a full minute to be sure and then darted to the door.

There was no sign of the man once I was inside and I was able to hurry up to my room unhindered. No doubt he would soon be able to guess that it had my scheme that drew him away from the door.

Perhaps this would be enough to make him dislike me.

Two letters, set carefully on my tiny table by the window, caught my attention. Though both were addressed to 'Miss Nelson', I only recognized the handwriting of the one. I set Aunt Beth's letter aside and focused on the second letter.

The seal was a mere blob of black wax, which I thought an odd choice. I broke it and unfolded the single sheet of paper. Shock hit me as I read the words:

Julie Nelson. Quite meddling where you have no business. You know what happened in London.

There was no name at the bottom. Breathing out, I sat on my bed. Exactly what part of the events of London could this message be referring? The unmasking of a traitor? The sharpened pen knife left in my pillow as a warning? The attack on me that nearly left me dead? Or was it the strange murder of the traitor I had discovered after he had been arrested?

It was clear, though, someone did not want me in Bath.

Did that mean I was on the right track? Was I drawing close to the answers I sought and that is why I had received such a warning? Who knew Julie Nelson had come to Bath?

"Harper," I whispered. He was the only person who had been present in London and knew where I was. But he'd helped me before, or had that been an elaborate ruse to gain my trust? "No. Impossible."

There had to be some other answer. Someone I was not yet aware of must have been aware of me and had a connection to those involved in the case in London.

Holding the paper up to the light, I tried to study it for any details that would point to the sender. The paper was plain, the type that could be found anywhere. On closer inspection, I could not guess whether that the handwriting belonged to a man or woman. Perhaps someone with greater knowledge into the facets of handwriting would have been able to deduce more.