Determined to have some good come of the night, she dressed in her coveralls and went out to the small workshop her father had built her on the upper story of the carriage house. Even tinkering didn’t soothe her frazzled nerves, though. With a sigh, she stowed her tools and made her way back to the house, just in time to see Jamie slip out the kitchen door. “Going somewhere?” He shrugged. “Wapping. Want to come?” “Hell yes. I’ll even pay for the hack.” She stepped back into the carriage house to grab a mask. With George walking between them, they walked a few blocks until they spotted a cab. “The Pig?” she asked. The Wigged Pig, a tavern with the sign of a porcine barrister, had been the center of society in their little corner of Wapping. Jamie nodded. “That’s where I planned to start, anyway. Clive’s still a friend.” “Good enough.”
