“I have conducted inquiries in order to find Mr. Douglas Marin and I have succeeded, I believe. If you open the door another few inches, I will gladly explain why. It is in your interest to hear me out.”

He made a face, thought about it, opened the door wide, and walked back into the chamber. Minerva followed. The odor assaulted her so badly she almost reached for her handkerchief. Instead she braved it out and picked her way amidst the alarming trash covering the floor. She stopped ten feet into the chamber and noted with some relief that the door remained open, letting in better air.

“In my interest, you say.” Mr. Marin faced her from the end of the chamber. “Unless you know of an inheritance, there’s not much you can say in my interest.”

“That is not true. You will perhaps be astonished to learn that your cousin Mrs. Jeffers is looking for you. She wants to reconcile.” She smiled brightly, and waited for his joy to break forth.

His eyes narrowed. “She sent you?”

“She did. She engaged me to find you.”

“Wasn’t enough to ruin me, now she has to run me to ground, eh? What if I don’t want to be found? Ever think of that?”

“There are times a person does not want that. However, this is family. Surely having family again is better than this.” She gazed around the chamber in dismay.

“Suits me.” He paced, agitated and angry. “You are a troublemaker, nothing more. Trouble for me, that’s certain. My cousin is not looking to grasp me to the bosom of family, woman. She’s hoping to finish what she started, and what brought me here.”

He was not making sense, but clearly he did not welcome this intrusion. The drink had all but deranged him, and she would only make it worse. “I will leave you, since you are content as you are.” She turned and walked toward the door.

“The hell you will. I’ll not have you telling her where I am.”

Her instincts screamed in warning. She turned to see a blur of movement. A blow landed on her head, one so hard that she staggered. Shock immobilized her. The door slammed, blocking her.

The next time, fight back. She held her balance, barely. She reached into her reticule. He came at her, crazed, with what looked like a chair leg raised above his shoulder. She saw him through blood, and almost swooned. Finding some strength, she stepped forward and raked his face with her hatpins.

Her vision blurring, she left him howling and pulled open the door. She staggered out of the building before her legs turned to liquid. She landed on her rump in the middle of the street. Her last thought was that she would probably get trampled by a carriage.

* * *