Chapter 12 #2
He paused for another moment of thought.
“Other than the confrontation with Ibbetson, there’s nothing in Langdon’s recent history that would suggest a reason for anyone to wish him dead.
Yes, he’s head of the Royal Society’s committee to review the submissions of technological innovations to prevent counterfeiting.
However, the first proposals are just beginning to come in. ”
“No personal peccadillos?” asked Griffin.
“None that have come to light,” answered the earl. “But maybe you should consider also digging a little deeper into Langdon’s personal life.”
“My superiors aren’t always happy when I pick up a shovel.”
“Then I suggest you wield it with great delicacy.”
That drew a rumbled chuckle as Griffin curled his big hands into ham-sized fists. “Delicacy is not usually a word that comes to mind when speaking of me, milord. However, I shall make every effort to be discreet.”
His eyes lit up as he saw the barmaid returning with a heavily laden tray. “An endeavor that will be far easier on a full stomach.”
Raven looked up from the book he was reading and cocked an ear.
The sound came again. A barely audible scuff of boots on the carpet of the workroom adjoining the library.
Neither Wrexford nor Tyler would tread so lightly …
Rising from his chair, Raven moved stealthily to the door and eased it open a crack. With the desk lamp unlit, the figure leaning over the open drawer was wreathed in shadows. And then, he softly closed the drawer, shifted his stance, and opened a second drawer—
“Oiy!” barked Raven, on catching a glimpse of the intruder’s face. “What the devil are you doing in Lord Wrexford’s private study?”
MacArthur turned, flashing a rueful smile. “I’m trying to find a penknife. Lady Eddylina’s pencils need sharpening, and when Master Alexander suggested that the closest one would be in His Lordship’s study, I offered to fetch it so that he could continue working on his sketch.”
The reasonable explanation only exacerbated Raven’s suspicions. “A penknife is usually kept in the same container as the collection of pens set by the inkwell,” he retorted, punctuating his sharp words with a jab of his finger. “Which as anyone knows, is located on the top of a desk.”
“That is where I looked first,” responded MacArthur with an apologetic shrug. He stepped back. “Please check for yourself.”
As Raven moved to the desk, he noted that several piles of documents on the earl’s work counter had been slightly rearranged since he had passed through the room a half hour ago.
“Is something the matter?” Eddy looked in from the corridor.
“I saw Mr. MacArthur riffling through Wrexford’s desk and wished to inquire—”
“He was looking for a penknife to sharpen my pencils!” she interrupted. “What did you think he was doing?”
“Wrex keeps a number of important documents—”
“None of which would be of any interest to Mr. MacArthur, as they are likely on metallurgy or some other scientific subjects,” snapped Eddy, and then turned her attention to the draw ing teacher. “My apologies, sir, if Raven was rude to you.”
“No apologies are necessary, milady,” murmured MacArthur.
“Master Sloane was quite right to question my presence in his guardian’s private study.
” He looked down into the drawer he had just opened.
“Ah, but perhaps we can agree that no harm has been done.” With deft quickness, he plucked up an item and held it out for them to see. “Here is the penknife.”
“Excellent!” exclaimed Eddy. “Let’s hurry back to our lesson. I would like your advice on how to render …”
Damnation. Raven swore under his breath as he watched the two of them disappear into the corridor.
He was absolutely sure that he had seen a flicker of steel as the drawing teacher had let the penknife slip out from inside his sleeve so that it could be conveniently found.
“Mr. Oh-so-clever Jack MacArthur is up to something havey-cavey,” he whispered to the stacks of papers, once he had carefully put back them into their original positions.
“And I mean to discover what it is.”
“Thank you for treating us to Gunter’s fruit ices, Aunt Alison.” Eddy licked the last trace of sweetness from her spoon and placed it on the table. “I think that pineapple is now my favorite flavor—it was divine.”
Alison responded with a fond smile. “We gels need an occasional comfortable coze together, just the three of us.” She added a wink. “Much as I adore the boys, they can never sit still in here—it’s as if they have ants in their pants.”
That made Eddy giggle.
“However, we wouldn’t want them to feel neglected, so why don’t you go peruse the selection of confections in the display cases and pick out some treats to take back to them while Charlotte and I finish our tea.”
Eddy was out of her chair in a flash and hurried to the front of the shop.
“Were we too heavy-handed with our reminiscences about first crushes as we moved from girlhood to our first forays into Society, and how quickly they passed?” asked Charlotte, once they were alone.
“Ye heavens, I now have far more sympathy for my own mother.” She made a face.
“I do hope Eddy’s enthusiasm for drawing lessons is at least partly because she truly wants to learn something about line and color. ”
“Oh, pish, I wouldn’t worry overly about Eddy,” replied the dowager.
“Remember, she’s far more worldly than you were at her age.
Given her mother’s unconventional attitudes concerning Society’s rules.
I’m sure that she had some very frank discussions with her daughter about the perils and pitfalls of falling head over heels for a handsome face. ”
“I do sense that beneath her exuberance, Eddy has a good deal of common sense. Let us hope …”
Aware of a rippling movement behind her, Charlotte fell silent.
“Lady Wrexford, what a delightful surprise to find you here,” said a burred voice that she had recently encountered once before.
She turned slowly in her chair, but before she could speak, the man inclined a courtly bow. “And your presence only enhances the pleasure, my dear Lady Peake.”
Alison raised her quizzing glass and subjected him to a frosty stare. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met before, sir.”
“Ah, but I know you through your reputation for scintillating wit and intelligence, milady,” came the smooth reply. “What an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”
Charlotte bit back a sardonic smile. The fellow was much mistaken if he thought the dowager could be charmed by a few trite flatteries.
“Good day, Mr. Murray,” she said. “I would have thought that the food and drink served at White’s or Boodles would be more to a gentleman’s taste than tea and cakes.”
“Ah, but as you know, I’m no gentleman,” replied Murray. “Those exclusive clubs don’t offer membership to lowborn fellows like me who sully their hands in trade.”
Murray was attired in exquisitely tailored clothing, but to Charlotte, he looked like a fox—or a stoat—in a henhouse. His eyes glinted with some secret amusement … and a decidedly predatory gleam. She was curious as to what he wanted, for she was quite sure the encounter was not merely by chance.
“Besides, like Lord Wrexford’s charming young sister, I happen to be very fond of sweets,” he said.
“Well, then, I highly recommend the Pontefract cakes,” she responded. “that is, if you like the flavor of licorice.”
Murray hesitated, as if considering his next move.
Charlotte raised a brow. “Or would you prefer some other suggestion, sir? My sister-by-marriage favors the pineapple ice, but I’m quite partial to the strawberry.”
“But you ought to try the lemon,” suggested Alison, “and decide for yourself.”
“I thank you for the sage advice, ladies.” Murray cleared his throat and placed a hand on the back of the empty chair next to Charlotte. “But might I trouble you for some guidance on another matter, Lady Wrexford?”
Charlotte waited.
“Alas, it is a matter of great … delicacy.”
The dowager caught her eye, and Charlotte gave a small nod. “Alison, perhaps you might help Eddy finish with her purchases. We should be leaving shortly.”
“Thank you, I shall be as brief as possible,” said Murray as he gave a genial smile and seated himself once the dowager had fisted her cane and moved off.