Page 15 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock
“In your entry hall guarded by one of my colleagues.”
“Guarded?” He raised a brow.
“Whatever was in that crate was treasured by my now deceased client. I have taken great care to follow his wishes in this.”
The solicitor opened the portfolio and pulled out a sheaf of papers. He handed Cecil the documents. “I have left marks on the documents where your signature is required.”
Cecil quickly read over the papers, learning that the item in the crate was not labeled or described but merely referred to as ‘the crate.’ One of the documents stipulated that if Cecil were deceased, the crate would go to his remaining brother.
“How peculiar.” He moved to sit at his writing desk and signed his name on the papers before handing them back to Mr. Wilkes.
“Do you have any questions, my lord?”
“Several,” he replied dryly, getting to his feet. “None of which I’m sure you would be able to answer. I should like a look at my inheritance.”
Cecil led the way from the room into the entry hall, tiny as it was. A man roughly the same age as Mr. Wilkes stood next to a crate the size of a magazine table.
“Lord Wycliffe,” the other gentleman said with a bow. “I’m Mr. Smythe.”
“Good day, Mr. Smythe,” Cecil replied, studying the crate.
“Shall we carry your inheritance into the other room?” Mr. Wilkes asked.
Cecil shook his head. “I’ll manage. Thank you, gentlemen.”
Both men looked relieved to be rid of the crate and hastily departed.
“Let me help you, my lord.” The butler looked askance at the thought of his employer doing physical labor.
“I can manage, Acker.”
The crate weighed very little and was small enough to carry by himself. Once Cecil deposited the crate in the drawing room on the floor next to his favorite chair, he closed the door to the room and locked it.
He decided the fire poker was a suitable tool to pry off the nailed-on lid and used it to jimmy the lid off the crate. When the lid was off, Cecil pulled out straw packing until he spied an ebony wooden box.
The box was a twin to the empty box he’d found in his brother’s study on the day of Wycliffe’s murder.
“And the clock was in the box?” Nathaniel asked impatiently.
“Exactly. I wrote to Gaston Jolly for confirmation. As he is nearly blind, his daughter described the clock I asked about, and he confirmed it was one of the pair of Roman mythology clocks he made for the duke. The confirmation letter from Gaston Jolly’s daughter reached me while we were in Kent for your wedding.”
“That is why you abandoned the festivities after only two days to return to Town.” Nathaniel then asked, “What information did the letter the solicitor give you contain?”
“Lord Daventry wrote that the clock was one of a pair. Wycliffe had informed him he possessed the other clock and believed Daventry was involved with the RA. The men were to meet at The Cock and Crow the night my brother was killed. Daventry was delayed and arrived at the tavern after I found my brother murdered.”
“Did he know anything about who stole Wycliffe’s clock?”
Cecil shook his head. “In his letter, he stated he had no idea but suspected it was an operative of the RA. His clock had been insurance if anything happened to him. The clock would lead to proof that there was indeed an organization called the Rogue’s Alliance. He mentioned a ledger naming members of the RA existed somewhere in London.”
Nathaniel let out a long breath. “That is all very interesting, but if the clocks are connected to the RA, Louisa could be in danger as she has one in her bedchamber.”
“She has the clock that was stolen from Wycliffe. Somehow, it ended up in Lord Campbell’s possession. I’ve never found a connection between Campbell and the RA, and the man was known to buy rare items and not be concerned with how the seller might have acquired them.”
“Do you believe Lady Louisa is in danger?” Nathaniel asked, his tone grave.
Cecil shook his head. “Remember, she has four brothers and a father in that house with her.”
“I recall Lady Devon’s maid being murdered last season in a house full of servants.”
