Page 27 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock
“Black. No sugar.”
The ladies took copious amounts of cream and sugar in their tea, leading him to wonder how they kept such slim figures. Lady Louisa’s figure was more voluptuous than Lady Edith’s. Pleasantly so.
He started at the thought and shook himself.
“Lord Wycliffe? You look nonplussed.” Lady Louisa stared inquiringly at him.
“I was wool-gathering,” he replied quickly.
They sat and sipped tea for a few moments.
“Are your parents in?” Lady Edith asked idly.
“They are not. They are viewing the exhibition at Dulwich Picture Gallery.”
“Shall we attend later this week?” Edith asked her friend.
Lady Louisa nodded eagerly. “Oh yes! Some of David Wilkie’s work is on display.”
There was a discreet knock at the open drawing room door.
“Come!”
The maid from earlier entered the room, clock in hand. Louisa motioned for the girl to come closer and reached for the clock.
When the maid departed, Lady Louisa placed the timepiece on the table before her. “I don’t see anything remarkable about it.” She sighed theatrically. “It is supposed to be part of a riddle, but I see no engraving or clues to a puzzle.”
Well done! The lady had spoken loud enough that any servant nearby would carry the tale that their mistress was disappointed in the clock.
“Let me examine it,” he replied evenly, although his heart pounded. He picked up the clock and turned it in his hands.
The clock was similar to his own. There were no engravings or carvings other than a maker’s mark on the underside of the clock and no hidden piece of parchment behind the pendulum. He wasn’t surprised. If the riddle were easy to solve, it would have provided little protection for the owner.
“I also don’t see any clues to a riddle.” He made sure to sound disappointed. “This clock is one of a pair. The other clock has faded into legend. I’m not sure this specimen is worth as much as it could be without its twin.”
“Nonetheless, it is a lovely clock,” Lady Edith replied soothingly, playing her part in the farce.
“And I still like it,” Lady Louisa replied softly, her expression anything but soft. Or yielding.
He surmised the lady was telling him that play-acting aside, she had no desire to give up her timepiece.
* * * * *
Louisa felt confident knowing she looked her best in a day dress of jaconet cream muslin, trimmed with five rows of embroidery in a running pattern of leaves. The unadorned long sleeves of the dress emphasized her slender arms.
Despite having no visible clues to solve the riddle, she could tell by the interest in his eyes that Lord Wycliffe coveted her clock and believed it would be valuable in his quest to destroy the Rogue’s Alliance.
The viscount placed the clock back on the table as she pulled a folded piece of vellum from a hidden pocket in her dress. “I’ve made a few small sketches of the clock for you, Lord Wycliffe. After further study, perhaps you will find something we initially missed.”
The lady handed the vellum to him, and he took it.
“Your sketches are an excellent likeness,” he replied, studying the paper he held. “You are a skilled artist.”
Louisa couldn’t help but feel pleasure at the praise. She might not be able to play an instrument or do needlework, but she could draw.
“Thank you, Lord Wycliffe. I am proficient with pencils only.” She was getting better at accepting a compliment. And one from the viscount, no less.
Edith smiled, looking happy that her friend had received praise. That was Edith. Unselfish to the core.
