Page 35 of A Duke for Adela
“This one is. I cannot speak for others.”
A short while later, he escorted Eloise and Adela into his coach to make their way to Phoebe’s home. Her butler, an ancient relic as old as Eloise’s trusted Watling, took forever to dodder to the door. He recognized them immediately and escorted them into the parlor. “Lady Withnall shall be right down, Your Grace.”
They heard the telltalethuck, thuck, thuckof her cane upon the marble floor of her entry hall. The little termagant hurried in moments later, her nose twitching in expectation of their news. “Well, Huntsford?”
He grinned. “Adela and I are betrothed.”
She clapped her hands. “Well done, dear boy. I always knew you were the cleverest of the lot. You have secured the hand of this Season’s true diamond.”
He glanced at Adela and winked. “I am in complete agreement.”
Adela smiled up at him. “I am the one who found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Oh, but I do not mean your wealth. I hope you know I am only referring toyouand not those other trappings.”
“I know,” he said softly, for this was the greatest treasure to him, to be admired for his true self and not the false allure of his fortune and title.
They did not stay long at Phoebe’s home, for he was eager to be on his way. He and Adela left the two dowagers to themselves to do what they did best…spread gossip and organize wedding plans. He expected word of his and Adela’s engagement would race like wildfire throughout theton.All of London would hear of it within the hour.
He assisted Adela into his carriage and settled in the seat opposite hers. This not only gave him the space he needed to stretch out comfortably, but also had him facing Adela as they spoke.
She had the prettiest face and he would never tire of looking into her lovely, intelligent eyes.
He enjoyed looking at every bit of her.
The first stop he intended to make was the jeweler’s to have the ring properly fitted. She would spend the day in dread fear of losing it if the matter were not attended to immediately.
Afterward, he wanted to stop by the Huntsford Academy to see if the missing book had been returned. He had met his Bow Street runner earlier this morning before riding over to Chipping Way, and was not pleased to learn Runyon had slipped out of town.
Ambrose was now worried the wastrel had taken the book and Adela’s notes with him. However, Mr. Barrow indicated Runyon had merely taken a small, overnight pouch that was not big enough to fit the book and a change of clothes. “If he’s gone off, it cannot be for more than a day or two, Your Grace,” Mr. Barrow had assured him. “His rent has been paid in advance for the next month and he does not strike me as the sort to let a ha’penny go to waste. He’ll be back for the rest of his belongings.”
And what of the book?
Had he gone off for the purpose of selling it outside of London?
Mr. Barrow assured him again there was no book inside the man’s pouch, but how could he know for certain? Not that he doubted the Bow Street runner’s ingenuity or extensive contacts. The man knew everyone and seemed to have connections with those from every walk of life. This probably included the mail coach driver who must have been paid to take a peek inside Runyon’s travel pouch as it was loaded atop the roof of the coach headed for Oxford and report what was inside.
Perhaps Mr. Barrow had climbed up there himself to have a look.
Well, he had no choice but to rely on his man.
Still, it troubled him that the book and Adela’s notes were nowhere to be found.
Ambrose’s carriage traveled slowly through the crowded streets of London, but he did not mind since he was alone with Adela. He took advantage of their time together to relate the earlier conversation he’d had with Mr. Barrow. Indeed, traffic was unusually heavy and it would take them a while to reach the jeweler’s shop.
She listened attentively and then added her thoughts. “Mr. Runyon often works with an archeologist by the name of Roman Hollingsworth who resides in Oxford. He is also an untrustworthy knave, if you ask me. I am not concerned about my notes, for they contain nothing that is not fresh in my thoughts and easily reconstructed. Much is already in the public knowledge. It is the loss of your book that worries me most. What if Mr. Barrow is wrong and he did take it with him? He could not have had more than a minute or two in which to open the man’s pouch and search inside, assuming he and not the mail coach driver was the one who searched.”
“Adela, I have no choice but to trust Mr. Barrow’s report. The man is very good at what he does.”
“Perhaps Runyon did not have it with him this time, but what about next time? What if he intends to hand it over to Hollingsworth and that fiend attempts to sell it on the Continent? How will you ever get it back?”
“The wonderful thing about thieves is that they do not trust each other. By your description of Runyon’s character, I do not think he will ever tell his confederate about that book. But do you think Runyon himself will leave England?”
“No,” Adela said with a purse of her lips. “Not for another few weeks, for certain. He is trying to gain funding from the Royal Society for a new expedition. He submitted a proposal last month and will lose out if he suddenly disappears in order to sell your book. Besides, I think he is afraid to sell something that unique and will likely return it to you if he gains his funding.”
“I hope so.”
“I know how this man thinks. He is too close to obtaining his funding to risk getting caught by you. However, if he is denied, then I would not put it past him to sell the book and run off with his profits. Still, it worries me that he ran off to Oxford in the first place. He and Hollingsworth must be up to something, even if it is not about your book. But what if we are wrong and he is now setting Hollingsworth up as a go-between to sell it?”
Ambrose shook his head. “If Mr. Barrow is right and Runyon did not take it with him, then he is not yet ready to share the information with his cohort. But it is possible he has his own shady sources in Oxford that he plans to approach. Greed is greed. If there is profit to be had, Runyon will keep it all for himself.”
