Page 90 of Marigold and the Marquess
“That is most generous of you, Lady Muir.”
“Not at all. I am so grateful for the beautiful work you’ve done. Glad I can be of help in any way.” It felt odd to be referred to as Lady Muir, but also quite nice.
Along with her title came deference and respect. Unearned, but why quibble when it served her purpose to be listened to and obeyed? This was all the more reason why she liked Mr. Smythe-Owens, for he had shown her this respect before her marriage when she was merely Miss Farthingale.
She left the Huntsford Academy feeling much better.
The museum had now emptied out and hers was the only carriage standing in front of the massive edifice. The two footmen immediately stood at alert, opening the door and putting down the steps as she approached. She addressed the driver before climbing in. “Collins, I need to stop by Mr. Barrow’s office before we head home.”
“As you wish, m’lady.”
Mr. Barrow’s place of business was not far from the Huntsford Academy and they reached it with minimal inconvenience despite the clog of pedestrians, carts, and carriages.
One of the footmen escorted her into the Bow Street office.
Leo had obviously given orders she was to be watched at all times. Not that she minded, for Leo would go wild if he thought she was unattended and easy prey for his cousin. She did not know if the man was in London or ever meant to do her harm, but why take chances?
A young clerk came forward to greet her. “May I help you, Lady Muir?”
He must have seen the crest on her carriage and known who she was. “Is Mr. Barrow here, by any chance?”
“No, my lady. I doubt he will be returning today. He’s on an important assignment at the moment.”
“Yes, I am aware. Is it possible to leave word for him? You see, the Huntsford Academy is featuring a new exhibit and we have scheduled extra surveillance since it will draw a large crowd on opening day. We have engaged Mr. Barrow and his runners for this event, but would like to meet with them beforehand so they might familiarize themselves with the place.”
The young man’s eyes lit up. “I have read about the Hall of Dragons and how you discovered the skull of the giant beast that will go on display. How extraordinary! What a thrill it must have been for you.”
Marigold could not help but smile. “It was one of the most important moments in my life…um, what is your name?”
“Wilbur Barrow, m’lady. Mr. Barrow is my uncle.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barrow. So you will relay my request to your uncle?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, indeed.”
“Good, and let him know that if he cannot handle this assignment to please provide us the names of Bow Street runners he deems reliable.”
“Oh, he will handle it,” Wilbur assured her. “It is already on his schedule. His Grace, the Duke of Huntsford, would never leave such an important detail to the last minute. His brother, Captain Thorne, also stopped by earlier today to confirm arrangements. I shall tell you exactly what I told him. You are not to worry, the Barrows will be on the task.” He lifted a letter off his desk. “Mr. Smythe-Owens has also contacted us. I will respond as soon as my uncle lets me know when he will be available for this walk-through of the museum.”
“Thank you. You have put my mind at ease.” She could see the young man was an amateur relic-hunting enthusiast, for his eyes had been shining since the first mention of the exhibit and were still shining. “You will all be on guard duties that opening day, but I shall deliver passes to you after the ceremony so that you and your families may enjoy a tour of the exhibition at your leisure at a later date.”
He cast her a beaming smile. “That is most kind of you, Lady Muir.”
“Well then, I look forward to seeing you in a week’s time.” She bid him good day and returned to her carriage. “Home, Collins.”
“Aye, m’lady.”
Marigold was pleased the trip had not been wasted. Seeing the exhibit come to life so beautifully had raised her spirits. Afterward, stopping by Homer Barrow’s office and being assured he and his runners would be on the task had calmed her nerves.
As she ambled into the house, she was surprised to find Leo pacing like an angry lion in the entry hall. “Bloody hell, Marigold! Where have you been?”
Sterling was standing quietly by the door, his face ashen.
Dear heaven, Leo must have erupted like Pompeii’s volcano to scare the man.
She calmly handed her reticule, hat, and gloves to their poor butler before turning to Leo. “I was at the Huntsford Academy inspecting the new display, as I’m sure Sterling told you. I took your carriage and had two footmen accompanying me at all times, just as you ordered. You won’t let me leave the house without a battalion of guards to protect me. Unlike you, I am respectful of your wishes.”
He emitted a low growl.
