Page 61 of Redemption for the Baron

Then came the steady clatter of hooves up the drive. The rhythmic sound cut through the noise, drawing only the briefest flickers of interest from those nearest the windows. A lone rider approached Alastair Court. His livery bore no crest, but his posture was upright, his manner purposeful. A proper messenger, then, not a tradesman.

Mr. Simmons answered the door, his usual composed expression never wavering as the man extended a letter. “A note of condolence from Lord Seaton,” the messenger announced.

Simmons took the missive with a nod. “Her ladyship will receive it in due course.”

The messenger hesitated for a moment, glancing around the entrance hall before shifting his stance. “Busy house,” he observed conversationally.

Simmons remained impassive. “Naturally. Her ladyship has many guests.”

The man adjusted his gloves and turned slightly as if about to leave, but then paused mid-step. He hesitated, then glanced back at Simmons.

“Forgive the inquiry,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, “but I overheard something on the road here. A gentleman at the coaching inn mentioned a missing journal belonging to the late Lord Alastair. He seemed rather insistent that it was important. Would there be any truth to that?”

Simmons’s posture remained impeccable, but his tone cooled. “Idle speculation is hardly fitting at a time of mourning.”

The courier held up his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean to offend, sir. Just found it curious, is all.”

He tipped his hat and strode back toward his horse.

Simmons stood in the doorway, watching him mount and ride off. His grip on the letter tightened slightly before he turned back into the house.

Bridget and Thomas watched from the drawing room. As they walked down the corridor, Thomas exhaled sharply, hands settling on his hips. “We wanted whispers, but we need to be certain they don’t spiral beyond our control.”

Bridget nodded. “If we guide the gossip properly, we can keep attention focused where we want it.”

Thomas glanced toward the butler’s study. “Mr. Simmons already knows every bit of talk in this house before it reaches the guests. If anyone can steer the rumor, it’s him.”

Bridget hesitated for a moment before nodding. “He won’t like meddling in gossip.”

Thomas’s mouth quirked slightly. “No, but he’ll do what’s best for the household. If we explain what’s at stake, he’ll manage it.”

Bridget squared her shoulders. “Then we should speak with him now.”

Thomas rapped his knuckles against the door. There was a pause, and then the butler’s steady voice called. “Enter.”

Bridget stepped inside first, followed by Thomas. Mr. Simmons was already rising from behind his desk, smoothing the front of his coat. “Captain. Lady Bridget.”

Bridget inclined her head. “Mr. Simmons, we appreciate you seeing us.”

The butler dipped his head slightly. “How may I assist you?”

Bridget hesitated only a moment. “You must have heard the rumors circulating. About Lord Alastair’s missing journal.”

Simmons clasped his hands behind his back. “I make it a point not to entertain gossip, Lady Bridget.”

Thomas stepped forward, his voice even. “We need you to do more than ignore it. We need you to guide it.”

Simmons’s brows lifted just slightly. “Guide it?”

Bridget nodded. “Not to stop the rumors. But to direct them.”

The room was silent. Simmons dropped his arms to his side. “You wish for me to let them believe it was merely misplaced. That there is nothing of consequence left to find.”

Thomas crossed his arms. “Would that be possible?”

Simmons considered them both for a long moment before inclining his head. “Quite.”

Bridget exhaled, relief easing the tightness in her chest. “That would be most helpful, Mr. Simmons. We appreciate your discretion.”

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