Page 45 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
“Are you sure? I always knew when you were fibbing.”
Ashford looked at his mother, his features controlled, hoping his lie didn’t show on his face. The marchioness studied him a moment.
“Hmmm... You are conflicted about the young woman. Very well. I shall ask you no more about the lady.” She chewed and swallowed a bite of cake before saying, “I would like to have a quiet night at home this evening. Will you join me?”
He was relieved she’d changed the subject and remembered his promise to spend time with her. “Of course. I should be delighted.”
Ashford was in the entry hall when another note from Robbie arrived. Despite being on his way out, he opened the missive and glanced at the cheap paper.
Dead mice outside of Thorne’s.
He had to admire the tactic. Simple yet effective. If a lady saw the dead animal, she might never return to the shop.
The more he thought about it, Ashford realized he should speak with the watchmen assigned to Berkeley Square. He would find the closest watchman’s hut to the lending library and inquire who was tasked with keeping an eye on the area where Thorne’s was located.
Night watchmen were on patrol from anywhere between seven and nine o’clock in the evening, until dawn. Their job was to question anyone who appeared to be up to no good. Was it possible James Landry had infiltrated the watchmen, or bribed them to look the other way while he sabotaged the lending library?
* * * * *
Charlotte could think of no good reason to ask Mr. Thorne who his landlord was. In the end, she asked Louisa to find out who owned the property Thorne’s sat on. Although Louisa may not think her brothers were very useful, Charlotte was grateful for their knowledge of James Landry and his associates.
Once Louisa found out the information they needed, Edith agreed to accompany her friends to see Mr. Jacobsen in Bishopsgate. Charlotte directed her father’s driver Villiers to deposit the women at the perfume shop Floris on Jermyn Street and return home. Once the carriage was out of sight, the girls hailed a hackney for the rest of their journey.
“I’m only coming along to keep you two from harm,” Edith said irritably, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she sat across from her friends on the uncomfortable squabs of the hackney carriage. “Bishopsgate! What can you be thinking, Charlotte?”
“I want to appeal to the gentleman’s better nature. Perhaps Mr. Jacobsen doesn’t know what kind of man Mr. Landry is. Leaving dead rats outside Thorne’s is really beyond the pale.” She paused. “We won’t be recognized. We’re in a hackney, and nobody in this part of London will know who we are.”
“Ladies have been known to shop in the area, Edith. You may stay in the carriage if you wish.” Louisa looked as calm as Charlotte wished she felt.
“As I have no maid or chaperone,” Edith replied crossly, “I will accompany you into Mr. Jacobsen’s office.”
They made the rest of their journey to Bishopsgate in silence. Charlotte retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule and breathed in the scent of clean linen. The hackney interior smelled vaguely of sweat and something else she couldn’t identify.
The hackney driver halted the carriage in front of a block of tall, shabby buildings.
“We will be only a few moments,” she told their driver. “There will be a guinea for you if you wait for our return.”
The man agreed, and Charlotte led her friends into the tall gray building in front of her.
A young man in the lobby paused when he saw their party. “Ladies, may I help you? Are you lost or in some distress?”
She raised her chin. “We have business with Mr. Jacobsen.”
The young man blinked before pointing to a staircase along the wall. “He has offices on the first floor.”
“Thank you very much,” she replied, her voice unnaturally high. Her nerves were getting the best of her.
The three friends made their way up the stairs before them. On the landing above, there were three doors along a narrow corridor. Charlotte opened the door with Jacobsen’s name on it, her friends behind her, and spied a bespectacled clerk seated at an oak desk.
“We’re here to see Mr. Jacobsen.”
The clerk was silent a moment. Charlotte stood with Louisa and Edith, unmoving. Several moments passed in silence.
“Very well,” the young man replied with a sigh. “Please take a seat while I see if Mr. Jacobsen is available.”
The clerk knocked at a door on one side of the room and entered. She looked about her. Although the furniture in evidence was far nicer than she’d expected, Charlotte and her friends remained standing.
The door to the room the clerk had entered opened, and the clerk stepped out. The young man waved a hand at Charlotte. “Mr. Jacobsen will see you now.”
