Page 42 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
Cecil perused the note and then handed it back to Ashford. “It appears Mr. Landry has decided the library needs help going out of business. I’ve recently heard reports that Landry forced the drapers next to the lending library to close.”
Ashford pocketed the letter and told Cecil about the hulking man he’d encountered loitering outside the front of the library. “I thought the harassment might end once I confronted Mr. Landry’s lackey. Perhaps it is time I spoke with Mr. Thorne’s landlord.”
“A logical step,” Cecil replied mildly.
“You’re not going to try and dissuade me?” he asked, raking a hand through his hair. “Ask why I’m doing such a thing?”
Cecil turned the glass of brandy in his hand, swirling the amber liquid inside. “Could I discourage you? I think we both know why you’re stepping in. You said you were done helping Lady Charlotte, but I don’t think you can help yourself.”
He would not object or ask his friend what he meant. Cecil had the right of it, after all. “Well then, I will proceed.”
The viscount placed his glass on a side table and rubbed his hands together. “So, what do you know about Thorne’s landlord?”
* * * * *
“This is the building,” Ashford said as his town carriage halted in front of one of the tall narrow structures in the east end of Bishopsgate. “Mr. Thorne told me the name of his landlord is Jacobsen. The man’s rooms are on the first floor.”
“Do you want me to take the lead?” Cecil asked with a sparkle in his eyes and a spring in his step. The viscount lived for confrontation.
“I will speak with Mr. Jacobsen. You’re here to assist me if things get out of hand.”
A light mist cloaked the area of Bishopsgate, crowded with shops catering to the lower classes. The street was teeming with people and coaches trying to find a way through the heavy traffic as his driver found a space along the opposite side of the road and pulled the carriage into it.
Ashford and Cecil waded through pedestrians and coaches to reach a structure adorned with a metal sign proclaiming Jacobsen and Son and climbed narrow stairs to the first floor. There were several nondescript doors along one side of a corridor. Ashford walked along until he reached an office door with Jacobsen’s name on it. He opened the door and walked in, Cecil following behind.
A thin young man with glasses looked up from where he sat behind an oak desk in the well-appointed room. “May I help you, sir?”
“My name is Lord Ashford,” he replied. “I’m here to see Mr. Jacobsen.”
“I’m his son- umm clerk. Please take a seat. I will see if Mr. Jacobsen is available.” The boy indicated two hard-backed chairs. “What is the matter regarding, my lord?”
He said bluntly, “I want to know if he plans to sell his property in Berkeley Square to Mr. James Landry.”
Ashford and Cecil remained standing as the clerk hurried to a door on one side of the room.
In a moment, the young man returned. “Mr. Jacobsen is busy at present. May I make an appointment for you?”
“Tell him I will remain here until he sees me,” he replied.
The clerk again hurried away, and he followed, Cecil in his wake. Ashford knocked at the door the clerk had entered.
The young man opened the door. “Mr. Jacobsen is very-”
“That is all right. I’ll wait.” He brushed by the boy and strode into the room. The onslaught of stale cigar smoke made his eyes water.
A rather stout man with cigar ash covering his green-striped waistcoat came to his feet. “It is quite all right, Ned. You know how these lords can be.”
The young man stepped back to let Cecil enter the room. Ashford could see a striking resemblance between father and son, an indication that Ned may not remain slender as he aged.
Velvet curtains were drawn back on a solitary window, allowing in the only light in the room. The furniture was new and of good quality. Jacobsen’s business must be thriving.
Their host spread his hands wide as he said, “Please have a seat.”
Once the men were seated and Ned had left the room, Mr. Jacobsen asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of having two peers of the realm call on me?”
“I told your clerk the reason for my visit.” Ashford observed the man across from him. Jacobsen appeared confident yet wary. He wondered how loyal the man was to Landry.
“I am not at liberty to discuss business arrangements that involve other parties.” His accompanying smile did not reach his eyes.
