Chapter Ten
T he next day, Edith could not ask her father about the latest issue of The Gentleman’s Magazine as he had already left the house by the time she came downstairs. Although they were close, she would never invade her father’s study in search of reading material.
Edith did ask Mr. Thorne if he would lend the periodical to her, and he’d agreed. She was leaving Thorne’s with her maid and walking to her carriage when she saw Lord Ashford and his friends enter the registry office down the street. Curious, she walked to the door of the establishment and knocked. A moment later, Lord Harbury opened the door.
“Lady Edith! Good morning!”
His wide smile led her to believe he was pleased to see her. The baron looked quite handsome when he smiled, and she wondered why she’d never noticed before.
“Is something amiss?” she asked, straining to get a peek around him.
He shrugged. “Just business. Looking up some information about one of the veterans.”
“Perhaps I can be of assistance. Unless Diana is here? I do know how to find any information you might need about the veterans.”
The baron hesitated a moment before nodding. “Come in.” He stepped aside to allow her to brush past him.
She observed Ashford and Lord Wycliffe enter the backroom.
Just then, one of the male employees came stumbling down the stairs in an old robe, trousers visible underneath. “What in blazes is going on?” Before anyone could answer him, he exclaimed, “Beg pardon, my lord! I was worried someone was breaking in.”
“Sorry about that, Porter. We should have alerted you to our presence.” Lord Harbury raised his hands. “Just a clerical problem Lady Edith has brought to our attention. We will leave you in peace in just a moment.”
The man smiled uncertainly, bowed awkwardly, and made his way back up the staircase.
“What is this all about?" She strode into the backroom to find Ashford and Cecil looking through the drawers of the two desks. “Something important must have happened for all three of you to be here on a Saturday when the registry is closed.”
“We need an address for one of the veterans,” Lord Wycliffe replied soothingly. “It appears one of the men didn’t show up for his new post.”
She frowned. “And it takes all three of you to look up a name and address? I’m surprised it isn’t something that can’t wait until the registry reopens on Monday.”
“We would prefer to avoid any adverse attention,” Cecil replied with a devastating smile.
She blinked, determined to keep her wits about her under his charm offensive.
“Who is the veteran?” She directed her attention to Lord Harbury, who stood near her. If Cecil smiled at her again, she might swoon, while ignoring him might also help her attract his interest.
The baron answered, “James Fleet. He was in the Navy, I believe.”
She strode past the gentlemen and opened the doors to a large armoire, quickly locating the necessary ledger.
The men surrounded Edith as she put the ledger on one of the desks and stood turning the pages of the heavy book.
“Here he is. James Fleet, Able Seaman, Navy. He was matched to Sir Henry Doyle.” She picked up a blank employer card from a basket on the corner of the desk. “I’ll write down Mr. Fleet’s address for you.”
When finished, she handed the card to Lord Harbury, again ignoring Lord Cecil.
“Sebastián Street.” The baron sighed as he looked at the card. “Not a terribly nice part of London.”
“Thank you for your assistance, Lady Edith.” Ashford gave her a brief nod. “If we need further help, I will call on you.”
“Shall we go?” Lord Wycliffe asked impatiently as he exited the room.
“Lady Edith?” Ashford waved a hand at the open door.
She quit the backroom and took up a place next to her maid. “Please do let me know if I can assist you further. Good day.”
As interested as she was in why the men needed information about a veteran, she wouldn’t ask more questions. From their closed expressions, she supposed they would not tell her much. She wasn’t too worried. A bug in Charlotte’s ear could net her the information she wanted.
As for Lord Wycliffe? She was beginning to think being handsome and dangerous didn’t outweigh a decided lack of manners.
* * * * *
N athaniel marveled at Lady Edith’s restraint. It was obvious she wanted to know more about their errand, but she’d refrained from asking more questions. He also thought he’d seen a flash of irritation cross her face when Cecil brushed her off.
The carriage ride to Sebastian Street was nearly five miles. Although the streets were congested, they arrived at the former seaman’s residence within an hour. Nathaniel was relieved they rode in Cecil’s nondescript carriage as a flashy town carriage in a modest area might draw too much attention to their activities. Without a crest on the outside of the coach, it was anyone’s guess who was inside.
The carriage halted in front of a dilapidated boarding house.
“My coachman will make inquiries,” Cecil informed them.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the carriage door.
“Come!”
The coachman in black livery opened the door to the carriage. “My lord, the landlord hasn’t seen Mr. Fleet since he left the house on Wednesday morning. Mr. Fleet informed the man he was off to take up his new position.”
“And the landlord saw no suspicious activity at the time?”
“None, my lord. Nothing to cause any concern.”
Cecil inclined his head. “That will be all, Henry.”
The coachman shut the carriage door.
“Perhaps we should speak with the landlord.” Ashford frowned.
“I don’t think we would get any further information from him.” He asked Cecil, “Do you have any contacts in the area?”
“There is an ale house nearby that young blades are known to frequent. I’m seen there often enough for my presence to go unremarked.”
The viscount tapped the roof of the coach with his walking stick. “To Bernard’s!”
Bernard’s was a dimly lit establishment sandwiched between another boarding house and a laundry. A few day drinkers glanced up warily but merely nodded at Cecil in what Nathaniel thought looked like grudging admiration.
“How did you come to be a well-known patron here?” Ashford inquired with a raised brow.
“I helped the publican in a legal dispute,” Cecil explained, yet didn’t explain in his usual mysterious way.
The three men were seated at a wobbly round oak table darkened with age. A large, florid-faced man rushed over with three tankards of ale. “Good afternoon, Lord Wycliffe.”
Cecil pushed a guinea across the table toward the man. “Bernard, if you know anything about the disappearance of Able Seaman James Fleet recently of his Majesties’ navy, I would be obliged.”
“Haven’t heard the name before.” The man scratched his bald head with the fingers of one meaty hand.
“He lived in a boarding house at the other end of Sebastian Street and disappeared en route to a new position. His employer was to be Sir Henry Doyle.”
“I’ll make some inquiries, my lord.”
After the publican moved away, Nathaniel took a sip of his ale and grimaced. “It is drinkable. Just.”
“You’re comfortable here, my friend.” There was a question in Ashford’s tone of voice.
“I have a small investment in the business,” Cecil replied blandly.
“Never say you’re a tradesman, now?” He nearly choked on his drink.
The viscount shrugged. “The publican has proven to be a valuable ally in this area of Town and has provided useful intelligence many times.”
“I thought you were penniless?” Ashford asked, one brow raised.
Cecil sighed. “I may have exaggerated my financial troubles to suit the circumstances.”
“We’re your friends, Cecil,” Ashford replied dryly. “We’re not strangers or members of the RA.”
“I often forget there are two separate parts of my life. I’ve never been in financial straits. I merely needed the Rogue’s Alliance to believe I was in the hope their members would make overtures to me.”
The men sat quietly for a bit, drinking. The tavern keeper approached them again, ostensibly to offer another round.
The man whispered, “Fleet was taken on the street and shoved into a black town carriage. Not a new carriage, but not a hackney. That is all that is known.”
“Thank you, my good man.” Cecil pushed another guinea across the table and got to his feet. “If you hear anything else, you know where to find me.”
The publican nodded and collected the mostly full tankards. None of the men had consumed much of the watered-down libation.
Once back in the coach, Nathaniel settled back against the comfortable squabs. “Do you think Mr. Bones will be able to trace the coach?”
“If anyone can,” Cecil replied with a nod.
“Are either of you attending Lady Kettering’s rout this evening?” he asked hopefully.
Both men shook their heads.
He sighed. “There is nothing for it. Alicia is mad to go. Enjoy your evening and let me know if you make any progress finding our veteran.”
* * * * *
E dith wondered at Lady Kettering holding a rout in her expansive home rather than a ball. Perhaps with the season over, she might not be assured of a large gathering. A rout could also be a less expensive undertaking as the event need only involve card games, music, lively conversation, and a light supper.
She’d sent a missive to Charlotte that afternoon but had received no reply, so she mentioned her note to Louisa that evening.
“Charlotte has a mild stomach complaint,” her friend replied. “I encountered Ashford walking his dog Chloé this morning at our private park in Grosvenor Square. He told me Charlotte thinks she may have eaten one too many ices at Gunter’s yesterday.”
Edith had only a moment to take the information in when she noticed her father across the room speaking with the widow Lady Sandhurst. She had only attended the rout because her father had mentioned in passing that the lady would attend. Louisa had joined them in their carriage, so Edith had yet to speak privately to her father about Lady Sandhurst.
She also hadn’t yet mentioned the missing veteran to Louisa.
A moment later, she spied Alicia and her brother Lord Harbury.
“Lady Edith!” The girl descended on them, her brother in tow. “How lovely to see you this evening.”
“You look very pretty tonight, Alicia.” She nodded toward the baron.
“I see someone I must speak with,” Louisa said hurriedly, with a weak smile. “Please do excuse me.”
Alicia giggled. “Lady Edith, your father looks rather cozy in the corner of the room with Lady Sandhurst.”
“They are probably discussing the theater. I believe Lady Sandhurst recently saw a production of Guy Mannering at Covent Garden and enjoyed it immensely,” Edith replied. She recalled Louisa mentioning that the girl had once bent her ear for over an hour about her love of theater, so she was hopeful Alicia would join her father’s tête-à-tête.
“Oh my! I must get her opinion on Sarah Egerton in the role ofMeg Merrilies.” Alicia hurried away.
Edith found herself alone with the baron.
Lord Harbury inclined his head as he asked, “How are you this evening, Lady Edith?”
“Curious,” she answered instantly.
“Yes?” His gaze was intent.
She asked in a low voice, “Has James Fleet been found?”
The baron clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet. “The man has disappeared without a trace.”
“Really? Oh my goodness!” She realized she was pulling at the earbob attached to her right ear and quickly dropped her hand.
He nodded. “To protect the agency’s reputation, we are making discreet inquiries.”
“Do you think there was foul play?”
“We’re not sure yet. From all accounts, the man wasn’t a drinker or gambler. He had recently been down on his luck and looked forward to his new position.”
She was surprised Lord Harbury would tell her so much about the situation. Surprised and grateful. “I don’t believe we had any family listed for James Fleet.”
“You are correct,” he replied gravely. “If we need your help, I won’t hesitate to contact you.”
“Thank you for letting me know about the missing man.”
“You work at the agency; you are in a position to know things.” He shrugged. “It makes sense to include you. Have you noticed anything of concern while volunteering at the registry?”
She shook her head. “Nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary.
It was nice to be taken seriously by a man other than her father. She was trying to think of something else to say when their hostess approached them.
“Lady Edith! Do say you will play the pianoforte for us. Perhaps my daughter could accompany you on the harp?”
“I would love to play a duet.” She nodded to Lord Harbury. “Excuse me, my lord.”
The gentleman bowed. “It will be a pleasure to hear you play again, Lady Edith.”
After she was seated at a lovely pianoforte at one end of the room examining a stack of sheet music, she thought again how very much Lord Harbury appeared to like her.