CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Oliver went straight home after leaving the Lyon’s Den and his meeting with Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
He shut himself in his study, insisting on not being disturbed until Mr. Burns arrived.
He sat behind his desk, his nerves a tangled mess and his stomach no better as he sipped a glass of brandy, hoping to calm down.
It wasn’t working. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and took deep, steady breaths.
Someone once told him it helped with anxiety.
He hoped they were right because he felt like he was about to explode like a fireworks display gone awry on the River Thames during a summer celebration.
He had begun to feel marginally better when there was a knock on the door, and Edwards opened it. “Mr. Burns to see you, Your Grace,” he said, then bowed, left the room, and closed the door behind him.
Oliver took one last deep breath and said, “Please have a seat.”
Mr. Burns bowed and said, “Thank you, Your Grace.” He sat in a comfortable chair facing the desk. The Runner was a large man, much like the doormen at the Lyon’s Den. And, best Oliver could tell, he was in his late thirties.
“Would you care for a drink?”
“No, thank you, Your Grace. I don’t drink while I’m working.”
“Wise man,” Oliver said, deciding not to pour another for himself. He wanted to stay sharp for this conversation.
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s note only said that it was urgent. How can I help you, Your Grace?”
“Call me Weston, please. I appreciate how quickly you came. What I want to hire you for, and what I tell you, must remain confidential.”
“Understood. I only share with my colleagues, if necessary.”
“Good. I hired Mrs. Dove-Lyon to find me a wife. Miss Phoebe Windham, niece of Lord and Lady Greenwich and residing in their home, also went to her looking for a husband.” He explained everything in great detail—from the first night he met Miss Windham to the last time he saw her at Hudson Hall, omitting only their later tryst.
“She had no reservations about marrying you, considering your history?”
“None whatsoever. At least not that she let on. She was very relieved that her time living at Greenwich House was coming to an end.”
“I see. When I leave here, I will pay a visit to the earl and countess. Do I have your permission to say you hired me to find Miss Windham?”
“Yes. But I must warn you that Lady Greenwich will not be cooperative.”
“Noted. Do you think they will let me question the servants? See if anyone noticed anything.”
“You can try.”
Burns stood. “I will send word later today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Burns.”
“Burns will do, and you are most welcome, Weston,” Burns said as he bowed, turned, and opened the door to find Edwards standing at attention.
“Edwards, please see Burns out.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
When he was alone again, Oliver poured a brandy and sat staring into the amber liquid, hoping to find answers to Miss Windham’s disappearance.
His body shivered as cold dread settled over him.
Anything could have happened to her. Would the countess dump her in St. Giles without a coin to survive?
Do something so vile as to sell her to a brothel?
“Bloody hell,” he bellowed out suddenly, sick to his stomach.
He had to find her. The seedier parts of London were no place for a young lady with no means.
And if she weren’t still in London, where could she be?
His mind wandered as he tried to think of reasons why the countess hated her niece. What was the history between Lord and Lady Greenwich and Miss Windham’s parents besides the fact that the men were brothers? He had a strange feeling that it all went back to the past.
He jumped up from his chair, bolted out the door, down the hallway, into the entryway, and yelled to a startled Edwards, “I’m going out. No need to send for Wind—I’ll get him.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Edwards said as he handed him his hat and riding crop.
Oliver pushed the door open himself, not giving Edwards the chance, and practically jumped down the stairs leading to the pavement. With his heart racing, he hurried to the mews, and between him and the groom, they had Wind saddled and ready to go in minutes.
Mounted on Wind and heading to Greenwich House, he hoped to sit in on the meeting between Burns and the earl and countess.
When he arrived, he dismounted, handed the reins to the same groom as before, and hurried up the stairs two at a time.
There was no time to knock, as the butler had it open when he reached the landing. “Back so soon, Your Grace.”
What an insolent man. “Yes. Is Mr. Burns with Lord and Lady Greenwich?”
“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Come with me.”
“I know the way,” Oliver said as he sprinted up the stairs and entered the drawing room.
“Forgive the intrusion, Lord and Lady Greenwich,” he said as he swept into the room and bowed.
“I wished to be present when you speak to Mr. Burns, a Bow Street Runner I’ve hired to look into the disappearance of Miss Windham. ”
“Please sit, Weston,” Greenwich said, looking stymied. “She hasn’t disappeared. She ran away.”
“Has she?” he questioned with one brow raised. The earl turned his head and looked at his wife. A chill crept up his spine at the look he gave her.
Before the earl could speak, the countess said, “Your Grace, we spoke of this in this very room this morning. You even read the note my dear niece left, attesting to why she ran away.”
“Yes, I understand what you showed me and what you said. Even if she ran away, she still needs to be found. It’s not safe for a young lady to be alone in the world without a farthing to her name.”
“Yes,” the earl said thoughtfully. “Mr. Burns, how can we help you find my niece and convince her to come home?”
Oliver leaned back, observing and listening to the Runner work.
“There are several things I need your approval for. I need to interview all the servants who reside in the house to see if they saw or heard anything unusual in the early evening and during the night. I would also like to speak to your three daughters. Perhaps she confided her plans to one of them. Also, is there any way someone could have entered the house and perhaps kidnapped Miss Windham against her will and forced her to write the note?”
Lady Greenwich gasped in outrage. “See here, Mr. Burns, our home is a secure and safe place to live. I have three daughters to protect.”
“What about Miss Windham?” the Runner asked.
“Yes. Miss Windham as well,” she mumbled.
“Weston, Burns, please forgive my wife. She has been beside herself ever since hearing the news of our beloved niece running away. We do blame ourselves. Maybe if we had realized how scared she was and how much she opposed marrying the duke, we could have stopped all this nonsense, and she would be safe at home right now.”
“So no one could’ve entered and taken Miss Windham?” Burns asked once again.
“Absolutely not,” Greenwich huffed.
Oliver thought he should intervene. “Forgive Mr. Burns. He is just being thorough. It’s his job to question everything more than once.
I believe he has all he needs from you both.
Is it possible to speak to the servants now?
We could go down to the kitchens and conduct the interviews there so as not to disturb the rest of the household. ”
“Yes.” The earl called over a footman. “Please take His Grace and Mr. Burns to the kitchens and notify Mrs. Cummings about the interviews.”
The footman bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
The footman guided them down the stairs, through a hallway to the large kitchens, and to a long table near the servants’ stairs where they, no doubt, ate their meals. “Please wait here while I find the housekeeper.”
Oliver sat on the hard bench while Burns took a seat across from him. “Why did you come?”
“I hoped to speak with you before you met with the earl and countess. A theory occurred to me. Miss Windham said they hated her father and mother. The current earl had cut off her father’s monthly allowance many years ago, going against the late earl’s will.
They hated Miss Windham instantly when she arrived on their doorstep.
I believe the hatred they feel for Miss Windham relates to something from long ago.
We need to find out about their relationships when they were young. ”
“Hmmm. That’s an interesting theory and has enough merit.”
“When I approached Greenwich about courting his eldest daughter, Lady Emma. He was in a talkative mood and mentioned his niece coming to stay with them. He told me about her mother and her mother’s parents having a falling out, but said he did not know the reasons for it. I believe he lied.”
“Who are they?”
“The Marquess and Marchioness of Bedford.”
“Let me do some digging into the past. Society loves to gossip, and someone knows the truth about it. And maybe you’re right, and it will lead to clues about Miss Windham’s disappearance.
” He paused, rubbed his forehead. “I will talk to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. She has spies everywhere and can probably help.”
“She does seem to know a lot about the ton. Above and beyond what happens inside the Lyon’s Den.”
“You would be amazed by the secrets she uncovers,” Mr. Burns said. “Some of those secrets come from other Runners. Most come from gentlemen who owe her money and are willing to share secrets. Anything to appease her.”
For the next hour and a half, Oliver observed and listened as Burns questioned all the servants, including the boorish butler.
No one saw or heard anything. Or so they said.
Even if Miss Windham hadn’t been taken against her will, someone would have seen or heard her sneak out.
A few of the footmen looked tense, and one maid, Maggie, seemed worried for Miss Windham’s safety.
Overall, Oliver and Burns concluded that they had been sworn to secrecy by Lady Greenwich.