Secrets of the Lost Ledgers (The Glass Library #5)

Chapter 4

L ast time I’d seen Lady Coyle, her grown son Valentine had not been present. This time, we could hear him through the walls of their flat before we knocked. We could hear them both, shouting at one another. It wasn’t clear what the argument was about, but she called him stupid, and he called her a rather crude word that had Willie snickering.

She nudged me with her elbow. “And you thought your family had problems, Sylvia. I reckon you and your brother never called your mother that .”

Gabe knocked loudly and the shouts instantly ceased.

The lanky redheaded man in his twenties who answered the door must be Valentine. According to Willie, he was most likely the son of Hope’s driver, not the late Lord Coyle, although he’d inherited the title upon his birth. She’d also told me he had a list of vices that put Huon to shame, including shirking conscription by claiming an exemption for medical conditions that didn’t exist. I preferred to make up my own mind about his character, but the sallow-faced man smelling of alcohol and cigarettes who regarded us with a sneer didn’t do himself any favors. When his gaze fell on Alex, standing at Gabe’s shoulder, his sneer turned to outright disgust. I decided then and there that Willie hadn’t been strong enough in her condemnation.

“Well, well. It’s been a while. What brings my favorite cousin to our humble abode?” He had one of those accents that only boys who attended the most exclusive schools seemed to have, all nasally vowels with disdain dripping from every syllable. Gabe hadn’t acquired it, even though he must have attended such a school. I suspected the humble nature of his upbringing had something to do with that. There was nothing humble about Valentine.

“Good morning, Val. How have you been?” Gabe’s tone wasn’t amiable, but at least it was polite.

“Life’s just a peach, dear Cousin. I simply adore living with my mother in this quaint little abode. And now you’re here, too, so my life is complete.”

Gabe simply patted Valentine on the shoulder as he pushed past him. “Glad to hear it. Is your mother in?”

Valentine looked disappointed that Gabe hadn’t risen to his sarcasm. “She’s not home.”

Willie pushed past him, too. “We just heard her. You really are an idiot, Val.”

“It’s ‘my lord’ to you.”

“You really are an idiot, my lord.”

He sniffed. “I remember you. Willie, isn’t it? Short for William?”

“Close enough.”

His top lip curled even further. “My mother’s not receiving callers.”

“We’re not callers. We’re family.”

Valentine pointed his cigarette at her. His hand shook. “ You are not family.” He drew on the cigarette then blew smoke into Alex’s face as he passed.

Alex stopped. “Be careful where you do that. Do it inside a club and some men might think you’re insulting them, and you wouldn’t want your evening to end prematurely.”

“Why would it?”

Alex looked Valentine over from head to toe, smiled, and walked away.

The glare Valentine gave Alex’s back made me shiver. As the last person to enter, I tried to slip past him as unobtrusively as possible. My efforts failed.

He leaned against the doorframe, the hand holding the cigarette near the corner of his mouth as if he were about to plug it back in. His slippery gaze slid over me. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

I shivered again, wishing I had an offhanded quip to toss back at him, but I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I was about to hurry after Gabe when Valentine caught my arm.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t get too attached. He’s not finished with the last one yet.”

“The last one?” I echoed.

“The Hobson girl. Her mother was here recently.”

“Why?”

He straightened and shrugged, before taking another drag on his cigarette. “Let me know when he tires of you. I’ll show you things that’ll loosen that tightly bound hair of yours.”

I kept my hands at my sides, but it took effort not to touch my hair, arranged into a bun with my hat perched above it.

Instead of following us into the parlor, Valentine plucked his straw boater off the hallstand and left the flat, slamming the door behind him.

His mother winced but otherwise pretended her son hadn’t just insulted all of us, including her. “He’s very busy, as I’m sure you understand, Gabriel. An earl has many demands.”

I wasn’t sure how many demands an earl without an estate had, but I suppose there must be some. Last time, she’d made a point of telling us about his investments, in particular his latest one, an American-based venture that went by the name of its founder, Ponzi. If it was going as well as she’d claimed, then their fortunes were about to turn around.

Hope was clearly not ready for callers, just as Valentine had mentioned. She pretended not to care that we were seeing her without her wig and wearing a dressing gown and slippers, but the self-conscious touching of her short gray hair said otherwise.

Willie couldn’t resist checking her wristwatch. “It’s almost midday and still in your nightgown.”

Hope thrust out her chin, her pride coming to the fore. “I had a late night at the opera with one of my sisters.”

“The opera with a sister? Was it Charity? It must be, because Patience doesn’t speak to you anymore, so I heard.” Willie pulled a face. “Glad to see your life hasn’t changed much after you lost everything, despite outward appearances.” She indicated the parlor with its threadbare armchairs and simple, inexpensive decorations. The only thing of worth in the room was most likely the portrait of Hope, hanging above the fireplace. The contrast between the young beauty and the frumpy, sad-eyed dowager seated on the faded sofa was stark.

Hope saw me looking at the painting. “I had it commissioned shortly after my husband’s death. He’d never got around to it after we married, so I decided to do it myself. How carefree I look, don’t you think?”

Gabe cleared his throat. “We came to ask for your help. Lord Coyle’s name appeared in a document that was recently discovered in the Glass Library.”

Her lips pinched. “I had nothing to do with his business affairs.”

Willie plopped down onto a chair without being invited. “Don’t pretend with us. We know you ain’t as idiotic as your son.”

“I beg your pardon!”

Willie waved a hand in dismissal. “We heard you call him an idiot yourself a few minutes ago.”

Hope folded her hands on her lap and turned to Gabe. “I always have time for you, Gabriel, but I won’t tolerate her insults in my own home.”

Gabe didn’t have to say anything. Willie simply got up and walked out.

After she heard the front door close, Hope smiled at me. “How lovely to see you again. Miss Ashe, isn’t it?”

“Please call me Sylvia.”

When she didn’t greet Alex, Gabe reintroduced him. “You remember my good friend Alex, Cyclops’s son.”

“I remember.” She turned to Gabe. “I really don’t know anything about my late husband’s business. He kept that side of things close to his chest.”

Alex seemed unconcerned by her snub. He probably expected it, based on their previous encounters. He stood by the door and crossed his arms and let Gabe deal with his father’s cousin.

“Does the name Daniel Barratt mean anything to you?” Gabe asked her.

“Wasn’t he the journalist who traveled overseas to collect magic books?”

“That’s Oscar Barratt. Daniel is a distant cousin of his. He knew a man who was an associate of Lord Coyle. We’re trying to discover the identity of that man.”

“If he was an associate of my husband’s, then this Daniel fellow knew him a long time ago.”

Gabe waited.

“I didn’t keep my late husband’s records or papers after he died. I am sorry.”

“Have you heard of a man named Thurlow?”

Hope shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Hendry?”

She hesitated before shaking her head.

“Your husband owned a house in Wimbledon that he rented to a young couple who went by the name of Cooper.”

“I must stop you there, Gabriel. All of my husband’s assets were sold off some time ago, and I don’t know any Coopers.”

“They vacated the property quickly, perhaps because they were fleeing your husband.”

Her gaze lifted to the portrait above the fireplace. The mysterious smile that touched the middle-aged woman’s lips matched the younger version of herself. “Then his death would have been a blessing for them.”

Gabe thanked her and indicated that I should leave ahead of him. I hesitated, however. Valentine’s words still rang in my ears. I had to ask Hope about it, for Gabe’s sake. She would probably tell me to mind my own business, but so be it.

“Just now, Valentine?—”

“Lord Coyle,” she reminded me.

“Lord Coyle mentioned that Mrs. Hobson called on you. How pleasant that you two are friends.”

“If you want to know why she was here, just ask, Sylvia. Don’t beat about the bush.” Hope turned to Gabe who was staring at me. “Mrs. Hobson did visit, as it happens. She wanted to speak to me about you.”

“I’m not interested in what she had to say,” he said.

“Sylvia clearly is. For her sake, I’ll tell you that Mrs. Hobson asked me about the two of you, and whether you were…more than friends.”

“I assume you either told her it was none of her business, or you said you don’t know, because of course you don’t.”

“Ah, there’s that Steele spirit you inherited from your mother. You’re correct on both counts. I found the woman to be rather grasping, actually, with airs above her station. She tried to tell me that her daughter is a better match for you, since she’s a magician and from a wealthy family, but that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

Gabe took my elbow to steer me from the room, but I wanted to hear what Hope had to say. I knew, deep down, that I might regret lingering, but I felt compelled to.

“A girl like Ivy Hobson doesn’t need rescuing, but you’re just like your father. So noble and heroic. You both need someone who needs you.”

Alex lowered his arms to his sides, but Gabe quickly shook his head at him, urging him not to rise to her bait. With a grunt, Alex strode out of the parlor.

I, however, couldn’t help smiling at Hope. When she finally noticed, she bristled.

“Did I say something amusing?”

“Your honesty is very welcome, Lady Coyle.” I looped my arm with Gabe’s. “Thank you.”

I was glad I’d lingered. Hope may have wanted to remind me that I was not worthy of Gabe, but she’d inadvertently dispelled my concerns that a man as perfect as him must prefer a polished and perfect woman like Ivy. By all accounts, Gabe was like his father, and he’d chosen a woman who was nothing like Ivy. What Hope thought of as Lord Rycroft rescuing a woman that society thought was beneath him, was in fact nothing of the sort. It was love. I may not know his father, but I did know Gabe, and I knew he had no interesting in being thought of as a hero. He, too, would choose a companion out of love. Hope, and others like her, would never understand that.

On the landing outside the flat, Willie and Alex stood with their arms crossed, twin scowls on their faces.

“I wouldn’t put it past her to be the one Daniel referred to in his letter,” Willie said as she led the way down the stairs.

“Barratt’s letter speaks about a man associated with Coyle, not a woman,” Alex pointed out. “Besides, I thought your money was on Hendry.”

“Maybe they’re working together. It wouldn’t surprise me.” She tossed me a glare over her shoulder when she mentioned Hendry, leaving me in no doubt she now strongly suspected he was my father.

“I don’t think Hope’s involved,” Gabe said. “If she continued her late husband’s legacy after he died, she’d be well-off, like he was. She wouldn’t be living here, trying to keep up appearances.”

“You’re forgetting that she has an idiot for a son. I reckon he’s capable of squandering her fortune just as easily as he lost his inheritance.”

With no clear path forward until we knew what Daniel Barratt had written in the ledgers, we decided to return to the Glass Library. I thought Gabe intended to leave me there and continue home, but he walked me along Crooked Lane and came inside. His two bodyguards followed.

Willie picked up a newspaper from the front desk and fanned herself with it. “We should have gone for ice cream. There’s a new shop in Kensington that’s owned by a confectionary magician. It’s expensive, but their flavors are worth it.” She clapped Gabe on the back. “Besides, you owe me and Alex for protecting you.”

Gabe gave her a lopsided smile. “I’ll buy you an ice cream when we leave here. Sylvia, you should come.”

“I should work,” I countered.

Willie agreed. “The professor needs her.”

Gabe opened his mouth to say something, but the professor strolled in from the main part of the library. “Hello, everyone. Did I hear my name?”

“I was just saying you need Sylvia in the library, ain’t that right, Prof? Some folk seem to forget she works here.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose. “The heat has kept most of the patrons away, so there’s just some cataloging of old books to do. They’ve waited years, and can wait a little longer.” He smiled at me. “How is the investigation into Oscar’s cousin’s message coming along?”

“We found some evidence that points to the illegal activity he was involved in,” I said. “But we won’t know more until Huon transcribes the invisible writing for us.”

“I’m so pleased you’ve given Huon this opportunity. He needed something to do, something worthwhile and engaging. It was a shame to see him wasting away in that house, miserable and alone. Perhaps this will give him a purpose, something to build a new foundation upon.”

Willie snorted. “There ain’t nothing wrong with having no purpose. I’ve made it my lifelong ambition.”

The professor patted her shoulder. “And you’ve done a thoroughly excellent job of it, Willie.”

She beamed.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Professor Nash went on. “Lady Stanhope came here looking for you, Gabriel. She asked me to tell you to call on her at your earliest convenience, as long as your earliest convenience is today.”

Gabe thanked him and asked to use the telephone to call her to see if she was home.

Willie blocked his path to the desk. “We ain’t going to see her. I’ve had enough of snobby old ladies for one day.”

“Lady Coyle and Lady Stanhope are the same age as you.”

“Age is an attitude.”

Alex chuckled. “So that would make you a fourteen-year-old brat.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I ain’t calling on Lady Stanhope today. I want ice cream.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Gabe told her. “I’m capable of taking care of myself.” This last part he said for Alex’s benefit, too. “Why don’t you both go home while I take Sylvia out for ice cream.”

He might as well have asked them to shoot him. Their protests were loud and long. Gabe, however, didn’t give up that easily. Instead, he compromised. “You can walk a few paces behind. Near enough in case someone should try to harm me, far enough for privacy.”

“All right,” Alex said at the same time Willie said, “No!” with such vehemence that we all stared at her.

“Why?” Gabe asked.

I suspected her reason had more to do with not wanting Gabe to be alone with me than his safety, but she didn’t get a chance to answer. My friend Daisy arrived, a stack of magazines in her arms. She opened her mouth to greet us, but the moment her gaze fell on Alex, she closed it again. She blushed.

He smiled at her. “Hello, Daisy.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hello. Everyone,” she added as an afterthought. “You all look so well.”

“As do you. Very, very well.”

The last time I’d seen Alex and Daisy together had been at the Buttonhole club a few nights ago. They’d hardly spoken, but had stolen glances at each other across the dance floor. Their usual frostiness had melted away after the Bailey family picnic, where he’d given her his paper boat to race on the lake. Despite their obvious interest in each other, neither had taken the first step. Although they were both accomplished flirts and good conversationalists, I’d begun to suspect they didn’t know how to move forward with someone they wanted a relationship with. Their previous entanglements had been casual. This one had potential to be more.

“Did you ride your bicycle here?” Alex finally asked. “It’s too hot to be exercising.”

“I caught an omnibus, which wasn’t much better. The man next to me perspired like a leaking tap.”

The old Alex would have pointed out that taps didn’t perspire, but the new Alex sympathized with her.

“We were all about to head out for ice cream,” Gabe said. “Do you want to come?”

Daisy brightened. “That would be lovely.”

“Are those all Les Modes ?” I asked her.

She looked down at the stack of French fashion magazines in her arm. “I’m studying these for my new career venture. I’m going to be England’s answer to Coco Chanel.”

“Who?” Willie asked.

“Coco Chanel, the French couturière who’s gaining quite a reputation for her clothes and hats . Her outfits are the bee’s knees. I thought I’d try my hand at designing, too.”

“Are you skilled at sewing?”

“Not particularly. Do you think I need to be?”

“Probably.”

Daisy’s face fell.

“You’re very fashionable,” Alex said quickly. “You’ve got an excellent eye for fabrics and colors, and your taste is modern. That outfit, for example, is very fetching on you. I doubt Coco Chanel could look as stylish.”

She stood a little straighter and self-consciously touched the tangerine toque on her head. It was a bold color that few women would be brave enough to wear, but it contrasted nicely with the narrow cerulean blue skirt and matching blouse. A belt in the same tangerine as the hat showed off Daisy’s slim waist.

Alex smiled at her, pleased by the effect his words had on her. I’d never seen him smile as much as he had these last few weeks when he was in Daisy’s company. If anyone needed confirmation that these two were right for one another, they just had to look at the change in him. The somber man I’d met in March rarely made an appearance anymore.

The telephone rang and, feeling guilty for not working much lately, I picked up the receiver before the professor could reach it. I heard the click as the operator connected me to the caller. It was Huon.

“Have you transcribed the ledgers already?” I asked.

“I’ve hardly begun, but I wanted to tell you about an idea I had. You see, my father didn’t know much about Daniel’s life, and knew almost nothing about his wife except that she was a Hendry. She and the children could have reappeared for all he knew. He refused to follow up with relatives,” Huon added bitterly. “So, I took it upon myself to telephone gossipy aunts. I discovered that she hasn’t reappeared. I also learned where Daniel Barratt lived at the time of his death.”

“Was it the Whitechapel house?”

“The Smithfield area.” He rattled off an address that I committed to memory. “That’s not all I discovered.” The usually nonchalant, indolent man sounded excited. “I learned that his neighbors were his wife’s family, and they still live there.”

I sat heavily on the chair behind the desk. My gaze sought out Gabe, who was watching me with a concerned frown.

Huon’s voice boomed down the line. “Sylvia? Are you still there?”

“I am.”

“You should visit them and find out what they know about Daniel’s wife and children.”

“Yes,” I murmured. “Yes, I should.”

He gave me the address for Daniel’s two sisters-in-law.

“What did he say?” Gabe asked after I hung up the receiver.

“He found out that Daniel used to live in Smithfield. Apparently, his wife’s sisters lived next door.”

“The other Hendry—Melville—also used to live in Smithfield before his disappearance. Perhaps he was closely related to these Hendrys, after all.”

“Huon suggested we speak to them.”

Gabe sat on the edge of the desk near me. His green eyes softened. “Is that what you want to do?”

I gave an emphatic nod. I wanted to meet them. I wanted to see for myself if there was any physical resemblance to me. I wanted to know once and for all whether they were closely related to my father.

My family.