Dancing on the Wind

Chapter 1

London, October 1814

Two days had passed, and the time for weeping was over. Now it was time for action.

She had already asked the obvious questions of the appropriate people, and come up empty-handed. There was no evidence beyond her intuition that something dreadful had happened.

Of course, in this instance her intuition was infallible.

At least, thank God, the worst had not yet occurred. If she acted quickly, she might be able to prevent the ultimate disaster. But what could be done? There were no conventional sources of aid in such a situation, and while there were men whom she might ask for help, there were none she dared trust.

She forced herself to stop her frantic pacing around the disordered room, which showed the effects of her futile searching. She was supposed to be a clever woman, so it was time she acted like one.

Seating herself at the desk, she cut a precise point on a quill pen, dipped it into the inkstand, and began to jot down what she knew. First came dates, times, and the answers of those people she had questioned. Then she wrote out her theory of what must have happened. It was supported mostly by half-remembered conversations, but it fit the facts, so she would proceed as if it were true. After all, she had no other theories.

Ink dried on her quill while she pondered what to write next. The critical need was for information; if she could learn exactly what had occurred, she would be able to devise a solution.

Though she was not without allies, the brunt of the investigation must fall on her. Not only were her skills uniquely valuable, but no one else, not even Jane, could possibly care as deeply.

Slowly a course of action emerged, though her face tightened as she listed places to investigate and how she might go about doing so. Some of the necessary methods might prove dangerous, and she knew that she was not a brave woman. But she had no choice; passive waiting would be unbearable.

The boldest idea was stunningly simple. As she wrote it down, she berated herself for not thinking of it immediately.

Her pen began flying across the page as more thoughts tumbled out. Soon she had worked out everything she would need to become another person.

Though perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she would become half a dozen different persons.