CHAPTER 14
Twilight had long since given way to night. And yet Charlotte couldn’t help but venture a peek out the carriage window as the coachman called out that the journey was finally at an end and they were making the final turn through the gates of Wrexford’s country estate.
Naught but shadows and amorphous shapes greeted her gaze as the graveled drive wound its way through a grove of ancient oaks.
It had been a long trip. Leaning back, she cast a guilty glance at the dowager, who had dozed off some miles ago.
However comfortable the well-padded and well-sprung coach, the hour upon hour of bumping over the uneven roads had been grueling, even for the boys, who were also slumped back against the squabs.
Crunch-crunch. The carriage crested a gentle hill, and the wheels slowed, then lumbered to a halt. Light from the entrance lanterns illuminated a large courtyard. Several servants hurried out of the shadows to let down the carriage steps and open the door.
“Have we arrived?” asked Alison, her voice muzzy with sleep.
“You have, milady.” Wrexford appeared in the doorway, his breeze-ruffled hair and broad shoulders a black silhouette against the flickering lantern flames. He held out a hand to help Alison. “Allow me to assist you.”
The dowager winced as she descended the steps. “My old bones are a trifle stiff,” she admitted.
“Perhaps a glass of sherry will soothe their complaints,” he replied after helping Charlotte out of the carriage.
“I think I’d prefer brandy,” said Alison, flexing her shoulders.
The boys scrambled out on their own and stared up at the stately facade of the massive mansion, its honey-colored limestone glowing bronze in the night light.
“Oiy!” said Hawk in a tone of awe as his gaze angled heavenward. “It’s bigger than St. James’s Palace.”
Raven turned in a slow circle, sniffing the air. “It smells different here. And it’s quiet as a crypt.”
“The country is very different from the city in a great many ways,” said Sheffield as he hurried down the front steps of the manor house to join them.
“We saw miles and miles of fields!” exclaimed Hawk. “And hills and hedgerows and—”
“Let us get settled inside, sweeting,” murmured Charlotte, touching his shoulder. “And then we can recount all the wondrous things we saw on the journey.”
“An excellent suggestion,” said Wrexford, handing Alison her cane and then offering his arm.
Sheffield quickly made his greetings to everyone and came around to escort Charlotte.
“There’s a warming fire lit in one of the side salons,” added the earl.
“Tea and a cold collation will be served as soon as we’re seated.
” He led the way through a cavernous entrance hall—its age-dark paneled walls bristled with hunting tapestries, racks of antlers, and a bloodthirsty array of ancient weaponry—and turned down a side corridor, where a door stood half-open.
“The parlor is a bit cozier than the formal drawing room,” he explained, guiding the dowager to the sofa set close to the blazing hearth. “Weasels!” he called as Alison seated herself on the plump pillows.
The boys had lingered in the entrance hall. No doubt ogling the swords and other implements of war, thought Charlotte. And deciding the best way to scale the walls.
Sure enough, the first words out of Raven’s mouth were about the weaponry. “Will you show us how to shoot the crossbows?”
“That depends on whether you behave like little gentlemen or little savages,” replied the earl.
Raven gave a rude snicker. “Behaving like little gentlemen is cursedly boring.”
Wrexford shrugged. “The choice is yours.” He let the statement hang between them for an instant before adding, “But be forewarned that any unauthorized high jinks with the weapons will have consequences. And don’t imagine that I won’t notice a minute shift in their position.”
The boys exchanged a quick look.
“There are puppies in the stables,” murmured the earl. “And ponies.”
Hawk’s eyes widened in alarm. “P-perhaps it would do no harm to practice being little gentlemen, at least for the next few days.”
“A splendid idea,” remarked Charlotte as two maids entered the parlor bearing a tea tray and a large platter heaped with food.
“Thank you,” said the earl, indicating that the refreshments should be placed on the low table between the sofa and armchairs.
As he turned to the sideboard, Charlotte took a moment to survey the room. Like the earl, it had an understated elegance highlighted by subtle touches of individuality. A juxtaposition of tradition and whimsy.
And the art on the walls was marvelous.
“Is this by Thomas Girtin?” she asked, moving to look more closely at an exquisite watercolor of an abbey ruin. “The light is ethereal.”
“Yes.” Wrexford came to stand beside her. “A prodigious talent. It’s a pity he died at such a young age.”
“Anthony was a great admirer of his work.” She didn’t add that her late husband had always voiced the sentiment with an undertone of resentment, as if the gods had somehow bestowed their gifts unfairly.
The earl offered her a brandy, and Charlotte found herself grateful for the heat of the spirits as she took a sip. She hadn’t realized how chilled she was.
Sheffield carried a glass to the dowager, along with one for himself.
“Ah, that warms the cockles,” murmured the dowager after a small swallow. She took another and then set it aside. “Hmmph. Now that we are all here, I imagine we’re going to have a council of war.” She eyed the boys. “Er, perhaps—”
Raven stiffened and lifted his chin. “We don’t need protecting, Aunt Alison. Lady Cordelia is our friend, and we’re already up to our necks in the investigation.”
“It’s true,” conceded Charlotte with an apologetic shrug. “I did warn you that the Weasels aren’t ordinary children.”
“So I am learning,” murmured Alison with a tiny smile. “Well, then, let us get on with it.”
“Yes,” agreed Wrexford, “but I suggest we don’t do it on an empty stomach.”
“We can both eat and talk,” said Charlotte, impatient to hear any further discoveries. The earl and Sheffield had arrived several hours earlier. “Everyone please take a seat.”
She waited for the settling-in to cease. “I shall fix some plates and pass them around while you tell us what you’ve learned. Has Tyler had a look at the professor’s—”
“Tyler has been delayed in London,” interrupted the earl.
“I expect him to arrive sometime tomorrow. However, Sheffield and I rode out earlier today and did a quick reconnaissance of Professor Sudler’s hideaway.
It’s nestled in a secluded spot, ringed by fallow fields and a glade of trees.
There are several outbuildings abutting the main cottage, and the enclave is ringed by a high stone wall. ”
“The perfect place for someone wishing absolute privacy,” observed Sheffield tightly. He looked down into his drink. “Whatever the reason.”
He had been, noted Charlotte, uncharacteristically quiet since their arrival. Soft as the candlelight was, it illuminated the fine lines of worry—or was it fear?—etched at the corners of his eyes.
She wished to say something encouraging but couldn’t muster any reply that didn’t sound patronizing. The truth was, the evidence indicated that some very painful discoveries lay ahead.
And they all knew it.
Wrexford waited for Charlotte to be seated before breaking the uncomfortable silence. “My suggestion is that the three of us ride out very early in the morning. In my experience, a confrontation that comes when it’s least expected gives the advantage to the interrogators.”
Sheffield let out an unhappy sigh but merely nodded.
The earl looked to Charlotte. “I assume that you know how to handle a horse?”
“It’s been some time since I’ve had my feet in the stirrups,” she replied. “However, I’ll manage.”
“Pffft, you have nothing to fear, milord,” announced the dowager. “Charley was a neck-and-leather rider in her youth.”
Both boys looked up from their tarts.
“Will you teach us?” asked Hawk.
“M’lady will be busy with other concerns,” called a voice from the corridor.
McClellan appeared in the doorway a moment later.
“If you behave, I’ll show you the rudiments.
” She nodded a greeting to the others. “We’ve just arrived with the baggage.
I’ve shown Lady Peake’s maid to her room, and the footmen are bringing the trunks upstairs. ”
“Thank you, Mac,” drawled the earl. “McClellan knows the estate and its workings better than I do, so if you have any questions, ask her.”
“Come with me, Weasels,” said McClellan, eyeing their empty plates and jam-smeared faces.
“Let us leave your elders to finish their libations in peace. I’ll show you to your quarters.
And mind you, Polly, the upstairs maid, may look young, but she’s under strict orders to brook no nonsense from the two of you. Disobey her at your peril.”
“Puppies and ponies,” murmured Charlotte.
Raven and Hawk rose without protest and hurried off.
Wrexford got up to pour himself another brandy. Sheffield waved off a refill and went to stand by the fire and warm his hands over the flames.
Sympathy tightened Charlotte’s throat as she stared at Sheffield’s back, noting the rigid set of his shoulders. She knew all too well the pain of discovering that someone for whom you cared deeply had feet of clay.
Her own late husband . . .
“Actually, unless there is anything else pressing to discuss, I suggest we all retire,” said Wrexford. He, too, was watching his friend. “It’s been a long day of travel, and we need to rise at dawn.”
* * *
Mist swirled, casting a silvery sheen over the meadows beyond the stable paddocks. Wrexford handed the reins of his stallion to one of the grooms and crossed to where Charlotte was standing, awaiting the placid mare he had ordered saddled for her.
“Nervous?” he asked.