William Monk 12 - Funeral in Blue

she could, her clothes, particularly her hat, and asked if the woman had seen her.
    “Sorry, ma’am, no idea.” The woman shook her head. “All I can tell yer is there’s no one ’ere now, ’ceptin’ us. But nob’dy ’ere bin wot yer’d call poorly.”
    “Thank you.” Hester gave her a halfpenny and left as quickly as she could. Where on earth could Imogen be? And why would she go off alone, now of all times? Suddenly fury boiled up inside her for the sheer thoughtlessness of causing more grief and anxiety at a moment when they had almost more burden than they could bear.
    She marched to the clerk she saw standing at the top of the stairs to the nearest entrance.
    “Excuse me,” she said peremptorily. “My sister-in-law appears to have gone looking for her carriage without us.” It was the first lie which sprang to her mind. “She is about two inches less than I in height, she has dark hair and eyes and is wearing a green coat and hat with black feathers. Have you seen her?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said immediately. “Carrying a green umbrella. At least it sounds like the lady you describe. She left several minutes ago, with Mr. Pendreigh.”
    “What?” Hester was stunned. “No, that can’t—”
    “Sounded like the young lady you described, ma’am. Sorry if I made a mistake.” He inclined his head towards the open doors. “They went that way. Almost ten minutes ago, walking quite quickly. I think he was helping her. She seemed a bit upset. I daresay one of the trials had affected someone she knew. He might only have been taking her as far as her carriage, just making sure she was all right.”
    “Thank you!” she said abruptly, and swinging around, she ran back to where Monk and Charles were still waiting. They saw her and started towards her.
    “What is it?” Monk said breathlessly. “Where is she?”
    Hester looked beyond him at Charles. “Did she have an umbrella, a green one?”
    Charles was ashen. “Yes! Why? What’s happened?”
    “I think she left with Pendreigh. A clerk at the door over there says someone exactly like her went out with him about ten minutes ago.”
    Charles lunged forward and ran across the now almost empty hallway and down the steps, Monk and Hester racing after him, feet flying, clutching the rails to keep from tripping. Outside was that unique darkness of very late autumn and fog. It was almost like disappearing into a muffling layer of cloths, ice-cold and gripping as if a solid touch, except that it parted in front of you and closed behind, leaving you without sense of direction. Even sound seemed swallowed by the wall of vapor.
    “Why would she go with Pendreigh?” Charles said from a few feet away in the gloom. “What could he do for her? How could he help? With what he’s just heard about his daughter, how could he even think of anyone else’s grief?” He spun around, almost colliding with them in the thick darkness. “Do you think he’s trying to save her, because he lost Elissa?” His voice was wild with hope, soaring up out of control.
    “I don’t know,” Monk said roughly. He swore as he stumbled on the edge of the curb. “But why in God’s name did they leave the courthouse? She must have known you’d be frantic with worry for her.”
    “Perhaps she’s still angry with me for bringing her to see just how gambling can destroy everything she loves,” Charles said, trying to choke back his emotions and hold on to some kind of control.
    Hester was beginning to shiver, as much from fear as cold. There was something profoundly wrong. Imogen did not know Fuller Pendreigh. Why on earth would she go out into the fog alone with him? No matter how distressed she was over Elissa, or gambling, or anything else, no matter how much she might grieve for Pendreigh because they had both known Elissa at wildly different times of her life, she would not have left Charles and walked off into the fog.
    Then a terrible thought assailed her. Could Pendreigh in some insane way blame Imogen for Elissa’s gambling, just as she had once feared Charles might blame Elissa for Imogen’s? She swung around and gripped Monk’s arm so hard he winced. “What if he thinks it is her fault that Elissa gambled?” she said urgently. “What if he means her harm?”
    Monk started to protest her foolishness, but Charles broke away and, churning his arms, trying to feel his way through the shifting patterns of the mist as it thinned and then rolled together