The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1835 - 116: We Only Know the “Lecherous Thief”, Not This Elphinstone_2

Hutter was completely unable to speak. He tugged at his scarf, turning his head to stare at the side door of the theater across the street, trying to focus his attention away from Colly’s chatter.

Coincidentally, just as Hutter turned his gaze, the side door of the theater opened.

A cloaked figure with a hood, flanked by two maids, stepped into the carriage, and the curtain was quickly drawn up, leaving only the flicker of candlelight casting shadows on the window.

"Stop cursing, Colly," Hutter whispered a reminder, "The Princess has boarded."

"No kidding, I’m not blind," Colly rolled his eyes but lowered his voice too. "Why aren’t we moving yet... Is she changing clothes in the carriage? Really, this girl should consider the two faithful soldiers shivering outside."

Hutter managed a wry smile, rubbing his hands together, "With this weather, she might be cold too..."

"She’s cold?" Colly glared at him, "You try sitting in that carriage and tell me if you’re cold. Wool cushions, hot water bottles, fox fur cloaks, still cold? Only she’d know!"

Hutter could only mutter, "Of course I didn’t mean she’s colder than us."

"That’s exactly what you meant!" Colly finished scolding, moodily pulling a small flask of rum from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, took a swig, and threw the flask to Hutter. "Have a sip, stop shaking like a woman."

Hutter gratefully caught it, took a quick chug, wiped his lips, "Thanks, brother."

"Less talk, look up, the carriage is moving." Colly squinted toward the street corner. "If she heads south, then we’re lucky, we can let Mike and the others follow. But if she heads toward Lambeth, we’ll have to go through old Bread Lane. Don’t lose track, Hutter, or I’ll come back and hang your ear at Scotland Yard’s door."

"I wouldn’t dare..." Hutter said sullenly, quickly jogging to keep up.

...

The interior of the carriage was warm and cozy, velvet cushions covered the seats on both sides, and on the table, the teacup with warm milk tea was steaming sweetly.

Victoria sat on the right side of the carriage, half her face hidden by the hood, but her gaze never lingered on Lady Leisen across from her.

Her fingertips gently caressed the handkerchief on her knee, the motion almost imperceptible, matching the rhythm of the pocket watch’s second hand.

Tick-tock...

Tick-tock...

Time was inching toward the moment she had arranged with Lord Elphinsone a few days earlier.

Yet Victoria knew the more crucial the moment, the more natural she must appear.

Opposite her, Lady Leisen sat like a marble statue in a chapel, hands clasped, eyes closed in repose.

Victoria sighed lightly, leaning wearily toward the window, "The air is terrible today."

"The air in London is always like this," Lady Leisen said flatly, "The wind in the alley behind the theatre always carries the smell of the market, not a place for lingering."

"Hmm..."

Victoria nodded, but her gaze never left the gap in the curtain because she knew that after three more street corners, the carriages would turn onto Oxford Street. There, a Scottish nobleman was waiting to meet her...

In such cold weather...

He must be freezing, she thought.

Victoria turned her head to watch the blurred figures and lights outside the window, her heart racing, even faster than the final trio in the theatre’s last scene.

She knew that Lady Leisen wasn’t a fool, but nor was she omniscient.

She wouldn’t let herself leave the convoy for too long, nor could she go too far.

It would only be a short time, five minutes, no, even three minutes would suffice.

"Your Highness, you seem a bit distracted," Lady Leisen’s voice suddenly broke her thoughts.

"Ah?" Victoria quickly raised her head, "Leisen, don’t worry about it, it was the soprano in the play, her singing was so heartbreaking. Her final line, ’I shall face my fate alone,’ left me a bit dazed."

Lady Leisen glanced at her, a sliver of suspicion crossing her eyes before propriety quickly overrode it.

"You’re still young," she said blandly, "You shouldn’t always ponder such weighty matters as fate."

Victoria heard this, merely smiled lightly without responding further.

The carriage swayed gently, leaving Covent Garden and heading onto the northern main road. Victoria quietly lifted her eyelids, seeing from afar the blacksmith shop at the next intersection, something she had noted two days ago. It was narrow, crowded, nestled between the theater district and the city, a spot frequently subject to traffic jams.

The carriage slowly entered the intersection of Oxford Street, the wheels splashing through a small puddle, and in front of the blacksmith shop, a lamp was lit. An old man wearing a leather apron stood by the roadside, bowing slightly stiffly to the convoy. His hat clutched low to his chest, as if fearing his posture might lack respect.

Seeing this, Victoria’s heart suddenly skipped with a thud; this was the signal Lord Elphinsone had arranged with her.

Her handkerchief remained on her knee, but her fingertips had already tensed.

She deliberately straightened up slowly, then placed a hand over her chest, her expression composed, her tone soft, "Leisen, I... I’m having trouble breathing."

Lady Leisen immediately opened her eyes, inquiring with concern, "What is it? Is it chest pain?"

"No, it’s not pain, just... just a bit stuffy," Victoria added a deliberately weak tremor to her voice, "Maybe the theater was too warm earlier, and it’s so cold outside... I... I want to get out and breathe some fresh air. It should be fine."