Chapter Thirty-Three
“N athaniel!” Alicia rose from her seat in the drawing room and ran to embrace him, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I’m terribly dusty,” he replied in a muffled voice against her hair. “Let me get cleaned up, dear sister. I’ll spoil your pretty dress.”
Alicia released him and stepped back. “You do look a sight.” She took a breath and smiled a watery smile. “Thank goodness you’re home. I’ll have Cook make us an early supper, and once you’re presentable, you may rejoin me here.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan. I’ll be down shortly.”
His valet frowned at the state of his employer but said little except, “Those clothes may have to be burned.”
After he bathed and donned fresh clothing, Nathaniel returned to the drawing room.
He poured himself a glass of port and sat on a settee next to his sister.
“Now tell me what happened,” Alicia said sternly. “You must have been in some trouble not to have contacted me before you returned home.”
And so he told her everything.
“Nathaniel, you might have been killed!” His sister crossed her arms over her chest, her color high.
“For some reason, I wasn’t. I don’t understand it. If Mrs. Stafford is behind the disappearances, maybe she doesn’t have the stomach for murder.”
Aicia replied, “That bodes well for the missing veterans. Are you any closer to finding those poor men?”
“Lady Edith has a plan to get onto the prison hulks at Woolwich.” He proceeded to tell her about what the lady proposed.
“And either you or Cecil would accompany Louisa and Edith to keep them safe?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
There was a knock at the open door to the room, and Binns looked in. “Dinner is served, my lord.”
Nathaniel escorted his sister into the dining room next door. Cook had made several of his favorite dishes, and he ate heartily, yawning several times during the dessert course.
“I think you need an early night,” Alicia said softly. “I am so glad you’re home, Nathaniel.”
“As am I.” He was exhausted but still worried about the missing veterans. What he wasn’t, for once, was depressed or restless.
Lady Edith had a plan, and they would carry it out. He believed they would soon discover what was behind all these strange events. Someone that was involved didn’t want to hurt him. Perhaps that somebody would be helpful in the end.
Soon after, lying in his bed, he stretched and sighed. His thoughts turned to Lady Edith, his mind replaying the words Cecil had said about her having feelings for him.
“I love her,” he said aloud, a certainty overtaking him. “And when this is all over, I’ll tell her.”
* * * * *
T he following morning , Edith received a note from Alicia inviting her and Louisa to tea. She went upstairs to inform Louisa about the invitation and recount Edith’s conversation with her father the evening before.
“Your father is going to allow us to go to Woolwich?” Louisa shook her head. “I don’t believe it!”
“He isn’t happy about it,” she replied dryly.
“I imagine the invitation to tea is a summons to gather together and discuss your plan.”
She nodded. “I agree.”
It seemed an eternity until it was time to depart for Grosvenor Square. The day was dark and rainy, and both women wore outer garments in the carriage.
“Good afternoon!” Alicia greeted them with a smile when the ladies entered the drawing room after footmen took their Spencers and bonnets.
Lord Harbury and Lord Wycliffe were already in the room and rose from their seats. Edith felt warmth flow through her limbs at the sight of the baron.
A tea tray was in evidence and Alicia handed out teacups.
“Have we assembled here to discuss Edith’s plan?” Louisa inquired after taking a sip of tea.
Edith would have asked after the baron’s health, but it was just like Louisa to ignore pleasantries.
“We have.” Lord Harbury moved to stand near the mantelpiece, looking well-rested and handsome in gray trousers and a blue jacket.
“I told my father about my plan,” Edith said, sighing. “He isn’t happy about it, but I promised him that Louisa and I would be escorted by one of you gentlemen at all times.”
Lord Wycliffe said from his place on a hard-backed chair, “Nathaniel, I think you should accompany the ladies onto the hulk. I prefer to observe anyone coming or going from the ship.”
The baron asked, “Do we know which hulk our veterans might be on before being transferred to a seagoing vessel?”
Wycliffe nodded. “My best guess is the HMS Ceres . There are three hulks in Woolwich right now. One is a hospital ship, and the Neely is only half full. The crowded ship is a better place to hide our veterans.”
“And these hulks are run by private citizens?” she asked.
“The Inspector of Hulks, John Capper, would like to eliminate contractors, but as of now, the decommissioned naval vessels are owned by private citizens.” The viscount paused. “Campbell Shipping owns the Ceres and has long been thought to have ties to the RA.”
She had a thought. “What happens if we do locate one or more of the veterans?”
Lord Wycliffe replied grimly, “Mr. Bones and I will be nearby. If you come off that ship and our veterans are on board, we will get them off. I promise you.”
Edith believed him.
“The journey by carriage will take at least three hours. I suggest we leave here tomorrow morning at seven o’clock. Cecil?” After Lord Wycliffe nodded his approval, the baron continued, “We will see you ladies soon after that in the viscount’s coach. When we reach Woolwich, the guards on the ship will be introduced to Lady Edith, but before then, they need not recognize our carriage.”
“And I’ll be dressed as a maid.” Louisa wrinkled her nose.
The baron nodded. “I will masquerade as a coachman, Cecil, and Bones, as footmen.”
Edith took a sip of her now cold tea.
“And I will stay here and pretend nothing is amiss,” Alicia said with a bright smile.
“Is that all?” Lord Wycliffe stood up.
“Unless anyone has anything else to discuss.” Lord Harbury looked around the room, his gaze settling on her. “I will see you all tomorrow morning.”
Edith would have liked to say something to the baron but had no idea what. They stared at each other for several seconds before the viscount exited the room, and Louisa rose to her feet.
“Until tomorrow,” Louisa said as she touched Edith’s arm briefly.
“Oh yes, tomorrow.” She shook herself and followed Louisa from the room.
When the women arrived home they were greeted by her father’s butler extending a grubby note on a silver salver. “From the boy at the lending library.”
Once she and Louisa were in the drawing room, Edith unfolded the letter.
Lady Edith,
A woman wishes to meet with you at Thorne’s at four o’clock.
Robbie
“How strange.” Louisa read the letter aloud over Edith’s shoulder.
She glanced at the carriage clock on the mantel. “I’ll have to go out again.”
“I’m going with you.”
Upon arriving at Thorne’s, Robbie nodded to the backroom. “Mr. Thorne is out for a few hours. The lady is waiting for you in the office. She wouldn’t give me her name.”
“Thank you, Robbie.”
Accompanied by Louisa, Edith walked to the rear of the shop and opened the door to the backroom to find a woman she recognized seated at Mrs. Thorne’s desk.
“Mrs. Stafford!”