CHAPTER 18 #2
“Of course I will, sweeting.” She crouched down, feeling a stab of guilt.
More so than in the past, this current murder investigation had touched the lives of all her family.
No wonder Hawk’s emotions appeared unsettled.
She hadn’t been as attentive to his blossoming talents as she should have been.
He flipped the pages open to a detailed drawing and then shoved it into her hands.
Charlotte recognized the plant immediately. The boy’s sketch wasn’t an exact copy of Becton’s drawing, but the distinctive shape and color of the specimen’s leaves were the same.
“You’ve done a very nice interpretation of the plant,” she said, “but I need to keep the original sketch from which you drew this in a safe place—”
“But that’s just it, m’lady—I didn’t copy this plant from the sketch!” interrupted Hawk. “I drew this yesterday from a plant I saw at the Royal Botanic Gardens.”
The book slipped through her fingers and fell to the carpet. “Yesterday? Good Lord—where?”
“In the storeroom,” he answered. “It was among a number of specimens awaiting shipment to the University of St. Andrews.” A look of trepidation shadowed his features. “I didn’t sneak into some place I shouldn’t have been. Mr. Tyler gave me permission.”
Charlotte smoothed a tangle of hair back from his brow. “Yes, I know that. I was merely surprised, not angry.” She took a moment to steady her own nerves. “Indeed, you may have made a terribly important discovery.”
“Aye, I wondered about that.” McClellan, her hands dusted with flour from the bread she had been kneading, was standing in the doorway, looking very serious.
“I wasn’t sure whether to send Hawk straight to His Lordship’s townhouse with the news, or to wait until you returned. I hope I made the right decision.”
Charlotte rose and retrieved Becton’s drawing from the tea table.
“I doubt Wrexford was at home earlier. He left here intending to meet Griffin . . .” And then confront a cold-blooded killer.
“I believe they were going to pay a visit to the Sun and Sextant Club. But Lord only knows where the two of them are now.”
“What do you think we should do?” asked the maid.
Drawing a deep breath, she considered the question . . . The web of intrigue seemed to spin more and more malicious threads, which threatened to tangle their every step.
“The mystery of who murdered Becton is a devilishly difficult one,” she said slowly, “and has us all chasing helter-pelter after shadowy specters.” A pause. “However, there’s one element to it that seems clear as crystal to me . . .”
She met McClellan’s gaze. “Becton’s plant specimen is key to the conundrum. We mustn’t let the villains get their hands on it.”
“You aren’t thinking of going after it on your own, are you?” demanded the maid.
“No,” answered Charlotte. “Though I confess, for a moment, I was tempted.” She stared down at the drawing. Such a sweet, innocent-looking plant. And yet three men lay dead because of it. “However, I know all too well what dangers can arise when we act without knowing what the others are doing.”
After a moment, she added, “Damnation, where is Wrexford?” and then lapsed into another pensive silence.
Out on the street, a carriage rattled by, drawing a sharp bark from a stray dog.
“M-maybe your bruvver can help,” suggested Hawk after the sounds had died away. “He mentioned that he’s attending a lecture at the Royal Botanic Gardens this evening. One of the symposium’s Swedish guests is speaking about Linnaeus.”
Out of the mouths of babes.
“How very clever of you to remember about that, sweeting!” exclaimed Charlotte.
Wrexford’s attention had been focused on unraveling the mystery of Becton’s murder, and he hadn’t felt compelled to attend all of the symposium’s presentations, especially as botany was not one of his specialties.
But given her brother’s interest, Alison had made sure that Hartley had received invitations to all the remaining events. Which likely meant . . .
“If Wrexford hasn’t returned to his townhouse in an hour or two,” she mused, “I shall join Aunt Alison—”
“I think that I should come with you,” said Hawk, trying very manfully to imitate Wrexford’s drawl. “So I can show you exactly where it is.”
Charlotte ruffled the boy’s curls. “I don’t think that would be—”
She stopped abruptly as an idea suddenly came to mind. “On second thought, fly up to your aerie and change into your fancy clothes while I dress for the evening.”
Seeing McClellan’s questioning frown as Hawk darted for the stairs, she explained, “Both Tyler and I have taken Hawk to sketch in the Royal Botanic Gardens recently, so the attendants know the boy and won’t find a visit out of the ordinary.
If the two of us go out there now, we can keep an eye on the storeroom—”
She saw the maid was about to speak and quickly added, “Before you begin to protest, be assured that I’ve no intention of taking any chances. I mean to stop at Wrexford’s townhouse, and if he’s not yet returned, I shall ask Tyler to accompany us.”
McClellan gave a grudging nod. “That seems safe enough. Tyler can be counted on not to take any silly risk.”
“And as Raven should be there as well, helping in the workroom, I’ll dispatch him with a note to Aunt Alison, asking her to accompany Hartley to the evening lecture, and to be sure that they arrive early,” went on Charlotte.
“She’ll understand that some intrigue is afoot and will follow my instructions to tell Hartley that they are needed to assist Wrexford with a delicate situation.
I’ll explain things more fully when I see them. ”
“But Hawk can hardly stay for the evening’s event,” pointed out the maid.
“No, of course not. I plan to send him home with Tyler—we’ll travel out there in one of the earl’s carriages. If for some reason, Tyler needs to stay with us, Hawk can return to Town with Alison’s coachman, who’ll bring him here.”
McClellan picked at a bit of dough that was clinging to her cuff.
“What will you do if Wrexford doesn’t return home and never gets your message?
I’m assuming you’re counting on him to convince the secretary of the Royal Society to put Becton’s specimen under lock and key until the killer is unmasked and brought to justice. ”
“I’ve thought of that,” replied Charlotte. “It’s the reason I’m making sure Aunt Alison attends the event. She wields a good deal of influence in Society—”
“Not to speak of a very sharp stick,” murmured McClellan.
“And I shall ask her to use her cane, if need be,” responded Charlotte.
“But I don’t expect violence to be necessary.
That Hartley is an earl should provide enough gravitas to our request to keep the specimen under guard until Wrexford has a chance to explain matters.
After all, Lord Bethany owes him a rather large favor. ”
Pursing her lips, the maid considered the plan.
Charlotte waited. She trusted McClellan’s judgment. “If you see any flaws, please point them out.”
“No, no,” responded the maid. “It’s an excellent strategy, one that is both prudent and pragmatic.
” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“It seems that we are finally about to bring this pernicious investigation to an end. Wrexford has learned the identity of the killer, and thanks to Hawk, the specimen has been found and shall soon be safe . . .”
“Yes, but Daggett is still free to foment evil,” whispered Charlotte.
“As Wrexford said, it is now up to the authorities to apprehend him and see that he’s punished for his misdeeds,” replied McClellan. “Our part in this unholy mess will soon be over.”
Charlotte forced a smile, but a niggling sense of unease robbed it of any warmth. “I had better hurry and change so that Hawk and I can be on our way.”