Page 56 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
“It is in regards to my sister Diana,” he replied.
The lady pursed her lips. “I haven’t seen Diana for a month at least. She attended a rout at Holland House at the beginning of March. I don’t remember much about the evening. I think I’d had quite too much champagne.”
The lady didn’t remember the event his family had worried over for weeks. He was at a loss for words.
“I feel flat-footed, my lady,” he finally said as he shook his head. “My sister left London for Bath, fearful that she might have offended you in some way that evening.”
Lady Lamb looked surprised by the idea. “As I said, I remember little that happened that night.” For an instant, her expression betrayed the sadness she must feel at Byron’s departure from England. “Diana was a breath of fresh air amongst the jaded company of Holland House. A shoulder to lean on in my time of need, if you will.”
“Forgive my asking, but I must know if she will feature in your upcoming novel?”
For a moment, he was worried he had said too much. The woman’s lips twisted into a near grimace. “Lady Diana has naught to fear. As for the rest of the ton?” She paused, and her expression became unreadable. “That is yet to be revealed, Lord Ashford.”
Relieved, he got to his feet. “I shall take up no more of your time, my lady. Thank you for reassuring me.”
The lady shrugged listlessly. “It is of no matter. If only I could forget so many events in my life as I’ve forgotten that night at Holland House.”
He knew she spoke of Byron. What could he say? She’d had an open affair for all of society to see. Rumors said the baron fled not only because of his debts but also due to a plethora of other scandalous affairs. Ashford searched for words to comfort her.
“I think it best if we don’t live in the past, my lady,” he said gently, although Lady Lamb appeared lost in reflection. “The future needs all our attention.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ashford received a note from Robbie the next day. Two suspicious men had been in the lending library intimidating the patrons, and Mr. Thorne had quietly asked them to leave.
He directed his coachman to Thorne’s Lending Library. When he entered the establishment, Mr. Thorne hurried over to him.
“May I have a private word in the backroom, Lord Ashford?”
He followed the man through a door at the back of the shop. Mrs. Thorne awkwardly curtsied when she saw him before taking a seat at the other end of the room behind a battered oak desk.
“Robbie has apprised me of the notes he sent you and the efforts you have undertaken to help Thorne’s stay in business,” the man said haltingly, a flush on his cheeks. “Your assistance is most appreciated.”
“I have friends who frequent the library,” he replied off-handedly. “I would not have them harmed or molested. Robbie’s latest missive mentioned two men hanging about causing trouble.”
Mr. Thorne nodded. “It was a queer thing. The men looked around the library as if they were taking inventory. It made me most uncomfortable. I mentioned calling for the runners, and they finally left the shop.”
The man led Ashford back to the front of the establishment. Lady Charlotte and Lady Edith stood beside the subscription desk, speaking with young Robbie. The slight musky scent of Tuberose drifted to him. Warmth settled in his limbs as he felt his pulse ratchet up a notch. He was happy to see the lady but frustrated that she had again gone somewhere utterly inappropriate.
His gaze met Charlotte’s. Her eyes widened just the tiniest bit. Could she be as affected by his presence as he was by hers? He must find a moment to warn her about approaching James Landry again.
Ashford exchanged a brief greeting with Charlotte and Edith before Robbie said, “There is an important matter I must discuss with you, my lord.”
Once the ladies had moved away and were out of earshot, Robbie whispered, “The two men that were here yesterday are loitering across the street.”
His first thought was for Charlotte and Edith’s safety.
“I will speak with the men after I advise Lady Charlotte and Lady Edith to quit the shop,” he replied. “Make sure you stay inside.”
Ashford strolled to stand near the plush sopha where Charlotte and Edith were seated, reading. Charlotte was immersed in Female Quixote by Charlotte Lennon, her friend, The Morning Chronicle.
“Ladies, there is a situation outside the library I should like you to be clear of.” Once he had their attention, he added, “It would ease my mind if you both would return to your homes.”
“If you think that is necessary,” Charlotte replied quickly, closing her book and getting to her feet.
“Oh yes, we should go.” Lady Edith put her newspaper aside and stood up.
“I’ll escort you to your carriage,” he said, holding out his arm to Charlotte. “Please go home and refrain from further outings to Cheapside. Mr. James Landry is a dangerous man.”
