Chapter 9
Raven entered Cordelia’s study without knocking—she and Sheffield considered him family and had insisted that he come and go as he pleased without any formalities—and slouched into one of the side chairs set around the worktable by the diamond-paned windows.
Given the watery greyness of the day, the lamps were lit, casting an oily glow over Cordelia and the ledgers spread out on either side of her notebook.
Paper rustled as he pulled a sheaf of mathematical calculations from his pocket, along with the pencil, and set to work.
Scratch-scratch …
Cordelia shot him a sidelong glance, her initial bemusement giving way to a quizzical look.
“Is there a reason for the long face?” she asked, after Raven refused to acknowledge the fact that her pencil had gone silent.
“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled. “I’ve been having trouble making the numbers work for the banking table on—”
She reached out and placed her hand over his to still his scribbling. “Let us put aside work for a moment. I feel in need of some tea.”
“B-But I just got here!” Raven’s gaze remained riveted on the sheet of equations. “You go ahead.” He tried to slip his fingers free. “I need to catch up on my part of our project.”
“The project can wait. I’m far more concerned about hearing the reason as to why you’re in such a pucker,” said Cordelia.
“I’m not—”
“And don’t insult my intelligence by trying to tell me that nothing is wrong.”
His mouth quivered. “I—I would rather not talk about it.”
Cordelia allowed several moments to pass before replying. “Sharing a problem lessens its weight on your spirits.”
Raven still didn’t look up. “M’lady would call that a platitude.”
“Actually, she would call it wisdom.” A pause. “You would share a mathematical problem that is puzzling you because you know that I might actually be able to help. Why not trust that my experience in Life might allow me to offer some counsel?”
He bit at his lower lip.
“Be assured that anything you tell me will be kept just between us.”
Raven shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he pondered the offer.
“It’s Eddy,” he finally blurted out. “She’s angry with me because she thinks I’m lying to her about whether the three of us Weasels went off on a nocturnal adventure and didn’t tell her.”
“I see.” Cordelia sat back and tapped her fingertips together. “Are you lying to her?”
“Well, ummm, yes,” admitted Raven. “But that’s because Wrex made us promise not to allow her to accompany us into the stews at night because of all the horrible things that can befall a girl if things go wrong.
” He blew out a harried breath. “But if I tell her that, she will be angry with Wrex and pester him incessantly to rescind the order.”
He made a face. “You have no idea of how insistent she can be, and …” A pause. “And Wrex finds it hard to say no to her.”
“Hmmm.” Cordelia allowed a wry grimace. “Do you know what m’lady would call this situation?”
Raven waited expectantly.
“Being caught between a rock and a stone,” said Cordelia dryly.
His face fell.
“However, it seems to me that the situation isn’t so difficult,” she continued. “If you feel that you can’t go to Wrex with the problem, I suggest that you tell m’lady and let her help decide how to solve it.”
“She has enough worries with trying to help Wrex solve Mr. Campbell’s murder.” A spark of challenge flickered in his eyes. “And I’m getting old enough that I should be able to solve my own problems.”
Biting back a smile—she wouldn’t dream of appearing amused by his seriousness—Cordelia considered the dilemma for a moment.
“What about simply sitting down with Eddy and explaining all the reasons to her? My guess is that what’s upsetting her most is the fact that you and your fellow Weasels don’t trust her enough to tell her the truth. ”
He grimaced. “You don’t know Eddy.”
“And perhaps you don’t know girls,” she suggested softly.
An uncomfortable silence hovered between them before giving way to his response.
“I—I know as much as I need to know.” However, a tiny quiver in his voice belied the assertion. “And I really don’t fancy having my head handed to me on a platter.”
“Well, then, I’ve nothing more to add, save for wishing you good luck in solving the dilemma on your own.” A smile. “But do give some thought to what I’ve said. And of course, I’m always here to discuss it further, if you wish.”
Cordelia shuffled her sheets of equations into order. “Now, let us turn our attention back to working out the final numbers for Mr. Ricardo’s stock market queries.”
“Oiy,” muttered Raven under his breath. “At least numbers work on logic—and don’t try to bite you on the arse.”
Ainsley quickly moved to block Ibbetson from storming after Langdon.
“Come, come, sir—Mr. Sheffield and I would very much like to examine your finished copperplate.” A pointed glance at the six other gentlemen standing uncertainly near the geometric lathe.
“And I’m sure the rest of the committee would appreciate a detailed explanation as well. ”
Looking somewhat mollified, Ibbetson turned to his machine and began unscrewing the top bolts.
Having no desire to find himself entangled in yet more intrigue concerning counterfeiting, Wrexford withdrew to the room adjoining the stage and made his way out to the main corridor, intent on finding Charlotte in the library and returning to Berkeley Square …
Only to find Langdon lingering near the doorway, his face wreathed in shadows.
Seeing the earl was alone, the chairman quickly approached. “Might I have a private word with you, milord, before Ainsley and the others finish with that blowhard?”
The request took Wrexford by surprise.
“I am aware through my government connections that you, on occasion, perform some—shall we say—discreet investigations into sensitive matters concerning our country’s welfare,” continued Langdon.
“I fear that what you’ve heard has likely been much exaggerated,” replied the earl.
Ignoring the assertion, Langdon stepped closer. “I would prefer not to discuss the subject here, where we may be interrupted. I am chockablock with meetings for the rest of today and tonight. Might you be free to meet with me at my residence tomorrow evening?”
“Why me?” asked Wrexford bluntly. Given what Griffin had told him, he had his own reasons for agreeing to a rendezvous, but the fellow’s aura of skullduggery made him a bit wary.
A shuffling sounded from the stage area indicated that Ibbetson’s presentation was coming to an end.
“I would like your advice on a highly delicate—and highly confidential—matter,” replied Langdon. “Discretion is required, and I was assured you could be trusted.”
Wrexford still hesitated.
“Let us say at half past the hour of ten, milord. I will have returned from a Privy Council meeting by then,” added Langdon, taking the earl’s momentary silence for an assent.
“I’ll leave my garden gate unlocked.” Langdon was already pivoting as he hurriedly added another sotto voce warning.
“It would be best if you enter from the back terrace so as not to be observed.”
Bloody hell. For a heavyset fellow whose demeanor tended to be a bit plodding, the chairman slithered away with more quickness than a greased eel, thought Wrexford as he watched Langdon disappear though the archway leading to the entrance hall.
Charlotte looked up from the book she was perusing in the library. “You look as though you’ve just swallowed a mouthful of three-day-old fish.”
“Perhaps that’s because my stomach has the feeling that I’ve just been fed something rotten.”
She raised a brow. “You didn’t find Ibbetson’s technology or designs to your taste?”
“As to that, I have no opinion.” Wrexford made a face and then recounted the exchange that had just taken place.
“Langdon gave you no hint as to why he wants a meeting?”
“Absolutely none.”
Charlotte snapped the book shut, though a niggling sense of foreboding only seemed fanned by the flutter of the pages. “There are too many unexplained encounters happening to our family for my liking.”
Wrexford said nothing, but the grim look on his face was eloquent in itself.
“Do you intend to keep the appointment?” she asked.
“I have questions of my own for Langdon,” he said slowly, “And given all that’s been happening lately, I think it behooves us to know what he has to say to me.”
She wished she could disagree. But recent events had her nerves on edge, and until they had a better understanding of what forces were in play, they couldn’t afford to ignore any possible clues.
“It goes without saying that I’m coming with you—not as your wife, of course, but as Magpie.” She allowed a wry sigh. “My second—or is it third—persona does occasionally come in useful.” It had given her the freedom of roaming the streets at night dressed as a man since …
Since before I met you, thought Charlotte. But tonight the disguise would allow her to shadow his steps in order to watch his back. “Until we identify the enemy—or enemies—no member of our family goes to a meeting or rendezvous with a stranger alone, especially after dark.”
That Wrexford didn’t argue only heightened her sense of unease.
Instead he moved to the window and stared out the rain-misted panes.
It was only mid-afternoon, but an oppressive gloom was already settling over the city, the gunmetal-grey fog bringing with it a chill dampness that seemed to seep into the marrow of one’s bones.
“Speaking of taking precautions,” he finally said, “I’ve decided to accede to Raven’s and Eddy’s pleas to possess a pistol.
They won’t, of course, be allowed to go off half-cocked on their own with the weapons.
However, I think it prudent that they both learn how to handle a firearm and practice enough to become crack shots. ”
“There is little point in having a pistol unless you know how to use it,” responded Charlotte.
“I am acutely aware of the disquieting fact that in this investigation—as well as our last one— Raven nearly lost his life to some very ruthless killers. And since suddenly trying to clip his wings goes against every principle we’ve espoused to our family, I would prefer that from now on, he has a fighting chance to defend himself. ”
She felt a shadow from within momentarily cloud her gaze. “As for Eddy, there are any number of reasons why a young lady ought to know how to handle a firearm.”
“Then if we’re in agreement, I’ll take them tomorrow afternoon to the shop of Durs Egg.”