Chapter 42
ELLA PUSHED HER disappointment aside. She and Gabriel had been having the conversation she’d been longing for since the day he left Keatley Hall. The alluring sensation of his hand holding hers eclipsed every other thought, and his affectionate words teased her senses.
She’d have to wait for another time to finish that conversation, though, for the stark reality of responsibility beckoned. She had joined Gabriel in this venture and committed to it.
There would be time—she hoped—for more tender moments soon.
Twilight was falling over London’s streets as Ella and Gabriel made their way to the Clancy Assembly Rooms. She had no idea what to expect with this visit. All she knew was that Gabriel was giving her a glimpse into his world, his livelihood.
As they stepped into the very masculine world of Mr. Clancy’s study, however, Ella’s confidence faltered.
Dark crimson paper hung on the walls, and the distinct scents of linseed oil and tobacco blurred with the fire’s smoke.
Elegant chandeliers boasting an absurd number of candles hung from the high ceiling.
Large, intricately carved chairs flanked a sturdy mahogany desk.
As for Mr. Clancy, his auburn hair curled with incredible precision, and a wrinkle didn’t dare mar his ensemble of elegant wool.
A silky snow-white cravat gleamed at his throat, and gold threads woven into his damask waistcoat caught the light.
Gabriel, obviously accustomed to the surroundings, seemed quite at home as he motioned for Ella to be seated in one of the wingback chairs before he sat.
“So, Clancy, we’re here as requested,” Gabriel announced casually. “Are you going to tell us? Who is this mystery guest?”
Mr. Clancy rubbed his hands together, as if preparing to divulge a very great secret.
“As you are well aware, I’ve an extensive network of colleagues, both friends and foes, if truth be told.
You’ve assisted me on many occasions, for which I am grateful and, might I add, richer because of it.
That being said, when you informed me of your search for Mr. Thomas Bauer, I called in a favor.
Before I share my findings, though, I need to have your words, as a gentleman and as a lady, that what is said here and who you see here is confidential. ”
“You have my word,” agreed Gabriel.
“And mine,” added Ella.
“Good.” Clancy stood from his chair and disappeared to the antechamber. When he returned, Mr. Gutt was at his side.
Ella held her breath as shock and anger rippled through her. She felt she would be sick. She dared not look toward Gabriel.
How dare he!
Mr. Gutt’s light hair, which had always been tidy and combed, was dirty and wild. Smudges and soot covered his coat. A red cravat was about his throat.
She finally flicked her gaze to Gabriel. Whereas she felt ready to erupt with anger, he appeared aloof and calm. When he did speak, his eyes did not leave Mr. Gutt. “As usual, Clancy, you never fail to surprise.”
Clancy sat in his chair as calmly as if it were a pleasant parlor visit. “This was no small undertaking, I assure you. He’s departing for America in the morning. I told him that if he shares what he knows with you, I’ll personally guarantee he’ll not be apprehended.”
Ella pressed her lips together to prevent a protest from slipping. Why would they agree to allow him to flee the country after what he’d done? Was there to be no justice for the role he had played?
“So I ask,” prodded Mr. Clancy, “do you both agree with this arrangement?”
Gabriel nodded.
Ella begrudgingly followed suit. “Yes.”
“So.” Gabriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you have to tell us?”
“About Timothy Grenshaw?” Mr. Gutt’s brow rose.
The familiar moniker struck her—it was the name from the letter.
“Are you surprised to learn his true name?” Mr. Gutt shifted.
“I began working for him a year ago. He told me he was Thomas Bauer. He was having trouble getting people to attend his demonstrations, so about five months ago he instructed me to find out information from the servants of where he would perform demonstrations. At first I obliged, but when it became a pattern, I confronted him. He said if I told anyone, he would insist that I’d acted on my own. ”
Ella could no longer keep quiet. “And Miss Sutton? How is she a part of this?”
“Her name’s not Miss Sutton,” he scoffed with an incredulous smirk. “It’s Elizabeth Grenshaw. She’s his younger sister. Did you not see the resemblance?”
Ella mapped the similarities in their appearances—they were both uncommonly tall. Dark hair and eyes. Pale skin. How had she not seen it?
Gabriel’s tone remained flat. “How did you come to know this?” Mr. Gutt cleared his throat and wiped his palm on his coat.
“Just before the symposium I overheard them talking about their mother. When Grenshaw realized I knew the truth, he told me that if I kept their secret, he’d pay me handsomely from the collection they were planning to take. So I stayed quiet.”
Gabriel finally spoke. “How did you and Clancy connect? How did you know he wouldn’t turn you over to the authorities?”
Mr. Clancy responded to the question intended for Mr. Gutt. “Why do you sound so suspicious, Rowe? When you told me what happened, I spoke with my footman. The footman knew Gutt was trying to leave the country but had no money for a ticket. I orchestrated an exchange. It’s as simple as that.”
Ella frowned and struggled to follow the story. “Are we to understand that both Mr. Grenshaw and Miss Grenshaw were manipulating the Hawthornes all this time? For months?”
Mr. Gutt shrugged. “Apparently the Grenshaws had been planning this heist for years. Miss Grenshaw wooed Mr. Hawthorne so she could influence him. She also encouraged Miss Hawthorne to spend time with Mr. Grenshaw. By the time the symposium started, they were deeply entrenched in the Society. He always said that if anything ever went wrong, they would go to America.”
America.
“Is that what he intends to do?” inquired Gabriel. “Go to America?”
“I haven’t seen them since the day I left Keatley Hall, but a mutual friend said he intended to sail from Liverpool.”
“Liverpool, you say?” confirmed Gabriel.
Mr. Gutt nodded.
Clancy beamed at Gabriel and rapped his fingertips on the chair’s arm, as if he himself had just solved the entire mystery that was Thomas Bauer. “There, Rowe. I said I could help you.”
Gabriel smiled. “Yes, you did.”
Gutt stood from the chair. “Are we done here?”
“I think that sums it up, don’t you?” added Mr. Clancy.
Gabriel nodded again. “Thank you for your time, Gutt.”
“Come on.” Mr. Clancy motioned for Mr. Gutt to follow him back through the door. “I’ll get you your money and show you out.”
By the time Mr. Clancy and Mr. Gutt left the chamber, Ella’s frustration was mounting, and she could not stay quiet. She whirled toward Gabriel. “Are you just going to let him leave?”
Gabriel nodded. “I am.”
“But why?”
Gabriel’s voice was low. “Because he’s lying.”
“What?” She twitched. “How do you know that?”
Gabriel leaned back in the chair. “I’ve heard confessions from dozens of people. When it comes time for someone to recount an event, there are telltale signs when something is not right.”
Panic continued to swell. “But how can you be certain? He could get away! And the Grenshaws could be getting away too!”
Gabriel turned to her. “He stared at me too boldly when he spoke. His torso was rigid and he didn’t move, except when he rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth when I asked him about Liverpool.
He was blinking either too much or not at all.
That man was lying, Ella. I’d stake my reputation on it. ”
Ella could not believe what she was hearing. She wanted to trust Gabriel, but if Mr. Gutt was lying, why was he not doing something?
Gabriel continued, “Gutt clearly wants me to follow his suggestion and go to Liverpool. Which means he certainly does not want me to stay in London.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Of course not. That’s the whole point. Consider, Ella.
What loyalty does Gutt have to Clancy? Clancy may be securing him passage from England, but that doesn’t ensure honesty.
Gutt probably has much bigger issues to contend with other than how he is going to get out of the country. You must trust me on this.”
Ella could not. “Then why did you not say as much when he was here? When he realized he was caught, he might have told the truth.”
“Clancy is one of my informants, and most of the time he does have good information. This time he’s wrong, but I don’t want him to stop communicating with me.
The relationship is too valuable. You must be patient.
Gutt is not the man we want. He’s a pawn, just as Miss Grenshaw is a pawn.
The person we want is Timothy Grenshaw.”
Gabriel’s words were irritatingly calm. How could he be so relaxed?
Mr. Clancy reappeared, his proud grin wide. “So when will you add me to your employ, Rowe?”
Gabriel chuckled as naturally as if they were discussing the weather. “Anytime you are ready to give this all up, you can come work for me.”
“Where to now?” Clancy asked eagerly. “Liverpool?”
“Maybe, but not yet. First I’m going to stop by the docks for the passenger list. Gutt says Liverpool, but it never hurts to double-check those here in London. And, of course, I must see Miss Wilde back to Hawthorne House. I’m sure her friend is wondering where she is.”
“I’ll go with you.” Clancy reached for his black beaver hat. “We can take my carriage. You don’t mind, do you, Miss Wilde? We can drive by the docks, Gabriel can visit the docks, and then we can deliver you safe and sound to Hawthorne House.”
Mr. Clancy’s eagerness reminded her of that of a child. The whole conversation had taken an odd turn—a turn in which she no longer felt as if she was part of the plan.
Gabriel looked toward her. “Is that all right with you?”