Chapter 31
Atlas
Ifound Mr. Gregory waiting patiently in my study in front of my bookshelf. I was happy to see him, but his timing left much to be desired. At least it was not news of further trespassers on the property. Everything had been silent, and as much as I wanted answers, I preferred it that way.
When Mr. Gregory noticed my presence, he quickly bowed. “Good day, my lord.”
“Welcome to Rosemont Court.” I dipped my head in return and motioned for him to sit. This was only the second time we had met, our first in Warwick, but he had earned my respect. He was efficient and thorough, two qualities I needed him to have.
“What news do you have for me?” I took my own seat and folded my hands together on my desk.
Mr. Gregory’s nondescript suit was wrinkled from his journey, and he adjusted his spectacles before leaning forward to explain. “I was in the area, having followed a lead to the closest station, and thought I would report in person.”
“I am glad you did. Please, proceed. I am anxious to know what you’ve learned.”
Mr. Gregory chucked. “My clients usually are. After we parted last, I met with the Radley’s carriage driver. He said he took both the governess and a kitchen maid to the train station after they departed the house. Unfortunately, I could not discover where they went after that. Until yesterday.”
He was too good of a storyteller. I wanted him to blurt out his findings. The suspense was killing me. “And?”
“I tracked down a family friend of Mrs. Radley who happened to have arrived at the station, returning from a trip of her own, just before Miss Palmer boarded. This family friend distinctly remembers Miss Palmer catching the southeast-bound train to Liverpool. So, of course, I took the train to Liverpool myself. I spoke with several drivers who are the regulars at the station there, and one remembers giving a ride to a young lady by the name of Miss Palmer about a month back. He said he will think about it and see if he can remember where he drove her. Of course, it’s a small chance he will, but there is a chance. ”
I stared at him, tracing the information in my head.
Liverpool was not too far from here. A missing piece I had been searching for suddenly slid into place.
The result created an image in my mind—clear enough that it stared me in the face—daring me to believe it.
Exhilaration and disbelief wrapped around me until my chest grew tight.
No. It was a ridiculous thought.
Wasn’t it?
“Could she be so close?” I said out loud to myself.
Mr. Gregory gave a succinct nod. “I suspect we’ll find her in a week or more.”
I wondered if it would be much sooner. “Thank you, Mr. Gregory.”
The investigator stood just as the housekeeper entered with the tea things. Tea. Right. “Won’t you stay and rest for a moment, Mr. Gregory?”
He shook his head. “I thank you, but no. I do not rest while the trail is hot, my lord. Lesser detectives have lost their leads while sipping tea.”
I gave a soft laugh and nodded, my mind racing a million different directions so that simple conversation seemed beyond me.
Mr. Gregory stepped out, and to my surprise, I heard Briggs in the corridor address him.
“Briggs,” I said, in greeting. “I was unaware that you were in town.” No matter how anxious I was for answers, it would have to wait. “Please, come in.” I waved Briggs inside, and he took Mr. Gregory’s seat.
With hands folded primly in his lap he said, “How is Mr. Gregory? Did he find Miss Palmer?”
“Not yet, but he had news of a promising lead.”
He nodded absently. “Good.” He pushed the long hair back on his forehead and blew out his breath. “I have news of my own.”
He seemed ruffled. I pushed the tea toward him. “Have some refreshment first.”
He took a single disinterested sip before pushing it aside. “You know I do not mince words. I am sorry, Lord Camden, but the Newhale shipment was sold, and you did not make the profit we expected. The quality of the wares was not what it was said to be.”
Ah, one of a few ventures I had invested in over a year ago.
A sure win, so I was told. But I had invested money I had won at the gambling tables, and it had never truly belonged to me in the first place.
I shrugged off the self-loathing that came over me every time I let myself think of my old life.
Mr. Briggs had come all this way to tell me this news in person because he cared.
That had to mean something. “Not every deal will be profitable. Thankfully, it does not affect me much.”
I was not the best bookkeeper, letting Briggs see to my finances, but I did have a rough idea of the numbers in my accounts, thanks to all our discussions over my new cottage hospital. “I am glad that I did not extend myself further when you gave me the chance last month.”
Finally, I had done something right.
“These matters can be a gamble,” Briggs said.
“I know the game of chance all too well.” Bitterness laced my words.
In response, disappointment seeped over Briggs’s expression.
“Not because of you,” I amended. “Let us speak of something less gloomy. Do you have an update on the cottage hospital?” I planned to ride out there soon and see it for myself, but Mr. Briggs had agreed to supervise the details in the meantime.
Briggs dug into his satchel and pulled out a letter of correspondence from our builders.
“They’ve confirmed that the cottage renovations will be finished by the end of the summer.
However, I spoke with the doctor, and he believes he can start seeing patients in the completed rooms before the rest of the house is finished. ”
“What about the fields?” I asked. “Did they complete the planting?”
“Not quite, but your tenants think it will be finished by the end of the week.”
Briggs was thorough as usual. “I am pleased to hear it. The harvest will offset future expenses.” Everything was falling into place. I could put my past behind me and look forward with hope for a better future for not just me but those lives that the cottage would help save.
Briggs tucked his papers away again. “I have two new locations for cottages I hope to present to you next week.”
Two more. And I was going to be a part of it. I smiled. “I will look forward to it.” I walked Briggs to my study door and upon closer inspection noticed dark circles under his eyes. “You do not look well. Are you ill?”
He gave a shaky laugh. “Merely tired. My wife delivered twins last week, my lord.”
I frowned. “You did not say anything.”
“You are a busy man and need not trouble yourself over my family matters.”
This news deflated my earlier joy. Had I not changed at all? I didn’t even know this life-changing event that had happened to my closest friend and associate? “We might do business together, Briggs, but did we not agree that we are friends too? Are they girls? Boys? Both?”
The first glimpse of a smile crossed his face. “Two boys.”
“I am happy for you. Cut yourself a larger check this next month. And tell Mrs. Briggs congratulations.”
His eyes widened. “Thank you, my lord.”
Twins? I shook my head after him. No wonder he was tired.
And yet, I envied his fatigue. It came with purpose instead of regret.
What would it be like to care for a wife and children?
To return home from business and have them waiting to greet you?
My mind conjured a picture of Estelle, a baby reaching for one of her raven curls, standing in the door of Rosemont Court.
The child’s eyes are the same velvet brown as her mother’s but with my lighter hair.
I blinked away the nonsensical thought. My courtship was barely a few hours old, and I was already marrying myself off and having children in my mind.
I grinned, despite myself. As absurd as it was, I wanted exactly that.
But we were only in the beginning act, and the secrets that spilled in the middle would certainly affect the resolution.
But logic or not, it was only anticipation and hope that ran through me.
And suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to be near her.
She was likely in the library for her and Augusta’s lessons at this time of day.
My feet eagerly moved down the corridor in search of her.
We both had a lot to talk about. Perhaps I would confide in her about my attack, my worries about it happening again, and my search for Miss Palmer.
It was foolish to think that Estelle had anything to do with my rescue.
A product of my imagination.
Regardless, I was finally ready to talk about that dark night. And I was extremely eager to hear her thoughts in return.
A few minutes later, I was disappointed to find the library empty. Where had they disappeared to? I passed by the drawing room and found Mother writing a letter in the back of the room at a small desk.
I quietly stepped back, not wanting to alert her to my presence and delay my time with Estelle.
Was it wrong that I was so anxious to see her?
She had said she wanted to speak to me about something important.
Would it be the same matter that I longed to discuss too?
Dare I hope that I had become the man she daydreamed about?
More determined than ever, I pivoted and moved toward the front door. There would be no point searching the upstairs or any other room if Augusta were involved. If my hunch was correct, I would find them in the back garden and some animal would be involved.
I followed the path around to the side of the house. Right before I turned the corner to the backyard, my feet stilled.
Singing.
Someone was singing.
And not just any song.
It was the bewitching tune of my dreams.
“Hó-bha-fn, hó-bha-fn, Hó-bha-fn, mo ghrá, Hó-bha-fn, mo leana, Agus codail go lá.”