A Rip Through Time(30)

“Well, look at the little kitty-cat, slunk back to see what’s left in the cream bowl. I thought you’d never show your face here again, not after last week. I heard someone taught you a lesson. Much overdue, it was.”

The woman smiles, revealing exactly the sort of teeth I expected from an era before regular dental cleanings. Then I realize what she’s saying. She knows me—knows Catriona. And something else.

“You know what happened to me here?” I say. “When I was attacked?”

“Everyone does. They’re wagering on who done it. Too many people wanted you dead. I can’t say I blame them.” She leans forward, foul breath washing over me. “If you want to make a wager yourself, we can put it under my name. Earn ourselves both a bit of money.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know who attacked me. I don’t even remember why I was here.” I tap the fading bruise on my temple. “I’ve lost my memory.”

She laughs so hard a rat squeaks and scurries off. “Oh, is that your story? And such pretty manners, too.” Her eyes narrow. “What are you up to?”

“Trying to figure out who tried to kill me.”

More eye narrowing. “Do not forget who you’re talking to, Miss Kitty-Cat. I know all about that canny mind of yours. I’ve been a victim of your schemes as often as I’ve helped you build them. You might be able to fool the lads, but I see past that pretty face.”

Before I can speak, she rocks back on her heels. “Is it the doctor?”

“What?”

“Your master. Dr. Gray. I heard he came to fetch you. Nursed you back to health. Have you decided to take my advice? Is that what the pretty new speech is for? The pretty new manners? You’ve finally set your sights on the master?”

She bats her lashes and simpers. “Oh, kind sir, I don’t remember anything with this lump on my skull. I am but a poor, innocent lassie in need of a strong man’s protection. A strong and rich man’s protection.” She cackles. “He may not be a proper toff, but he’s got a fine house and a fine income. No proper lady will have him, so you might as well.”

“Dr. Gray’s occupation would hardly prevent him from finding himself a proper lady.”

“His occupation?” She snorts. “You have indeed taken a hard blow to the head if you think that’d be what stops them.”

“I did take a hard blow, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Are you daft? Even if you’ve forgotten the scandal, surely one look at the man will jolt your memory.”

She taps her cheek and arches her brows. Does she mean because he’s not white? What would that have to do with a scandal? Ah, I bet I know. His skin tone suggests one of his parents is white and the other isn’t. Such a union would probably be shocking in this day.

“Whatever the issue,” I say, “I cannot imagine Dr. Gray lacks for female companionship. And no, I have not changed my mind on that count. I’m not sure how traipsing around this neighborhood would help me win him to my bed.”

“Traipsing? My, my, you speak like a properly educated lady yourself.” She eyes me. “I’ve heard you come from a good family, however much you denied it. That could be useful. Get little Miss Kitty-Cat into places no alley-cat girls can go.”

I shake my head. “I just came to see if I could find out what happened to me. If you have anything to add, I’d appreciate the information. Otherwise—”

She grabs my arm, fingers digging in. “Pretty words and manners are all very fine, but don’t you go putting on airs with me. Do not forget I know things that would get you tossed from your fine doctor’s home.”

“Yes,” I murmur under my breath. “I’ve heard that before. Today in fact.”

She twists my arm. “Do not mutter insults at me, Catriona.”

“I wasn’t,” I say, “and I apologize if I was being rude.” I pause. “Perhaps we could have a drink, for old times’ sake.”

If this woman holds something over me, I need to be nice. Also, I’d like to know more about the young woman whose body I inhabit, and this seems an excellent opportunity to do so.

“A drink?” The woman scowls. “Is that a joke?”

Fortunately, my expression must answer for me, because she eases back, still eyeing me sharply. “You really have lost your memory. No, kitty-cat, I do not want a drink. I don’t imbibe. Neither do you, and that piece of advice I’ll give for free. Lose yourself in a bottle, and soon you’ll be lifting your skirts for more. That’s not the life for us.”

“So what is the life for us?” I say. “Forget the drink. May I ask you some questions?” I take out the coin. “I can pay.”

“With two bob? That’ll buy you two words.” She makes what I presume is a rude gesture and then puts out her hand.

I pocket the coin. “How much for more?”

“I’ll give you the going rate for a high-class whore. A pound will buy you twenty minutes of my time.” She starts to walk away. “You know where to find me, kitty-cat.”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

She laughs and points at the dive bar where Catriona had been spotted the night she was attacked.

“Can I get your name?” I call after her.