Page 47 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock
She nodded. “I always thought I disliked Lord Wycliffe. His arrogance and overwhelming charisma.”
“He is a fascinating man.”
“Who would never think of actually courting me, let alone marrying me,” she said dejectedly.
“Why ever not?” Edith asked with a frown.
“He doesn’t have room for anything in his life except the Rogue’s Alliance. His brother has produced an heir, after all.”
Edith patted her hand. “I would not give up, my friend. All this business with the RA must be dealt with before Cecil will think of the future.”
She sighed. “I know. And I admire the viscount’s determination to get justice for his brother.”
“I will have to speak with Nathaniel. Tomorrow, I must tell Cecil my involvement with the clocks has come to an end.” Edith paused. “Although I had hoped we would solve the riddle.”
“If Lord Wycliffe wants the clocks, he can trade them for my sketches. Then we can still work on the riddle. My parents and your father are close to Lord Daventry's age. Perhaps we should ask our parents about the earl.”
“That is a splendid idea,” Edith replied. “My father will join Nathaniel and I for dinner this evening. I will ask him about Lord Daventry tonight.”
“My mother knows everything about everyone.” She jumped to her feet. “I’m going to go home and ask her about the earl right now.”
“Until tomorrow,” Edith rejoined.
She nodded. “Tomorrow!”
* * * * *
After handing the missive for Edith to Bones, Cecil mounted the staircase to the floor with his bedchamber.
He entered the room to find the bedclothes on the hardwood floor, his dresser drawers pulled out, and the armoire open with his clothes scattered about, now wrinkled and soiled. The open connecting door led to the storage room next door.
The tiny chamber was meant to be a dressing room, but without a valet, he hadn’t utilized it as such. The room held another dresser, a card table, and a desk. Nothing had been stored inside the furniture, so the room was neat.
The floor above was the attics, divided into three small rooms for his servants.
Cecil returned to his bedchamber and picked out a few items he could still wear without their being cleaned.
“Lord Wycliffe?”
Bones stood outside the bedchamber.
“Bones?”
“I’m off for Grosvenor Square.”
“Very good.” He looked around him. “I don’t have the patience to restore order right now. How did the rooms upstairs fare?”
“Our rooms were picked over, but we don’t have much to be disturbed. I will return as soon as I can, my lord.”
He shook his head. “Once you are finished at Lord Harbury’s home, I want you to continue watching over Lady Louisa.”
The other man nodded before shuffling off, and Cecil could hear him speaking to Eliza and Acker as they descended the staircase. His thoughts turned to the mews behind the house. He picked his way through the kitchen to the back door of the townhouse. There was a small strip of land behind the structure, more a wilderness than a garden, and he walked through the tall grass to the stable shared by four of the houses.
“Branson,” he called out to his driver. The man was seated on a stool in one corner of the long building.
Only one other residence was affluent enough to keep a carriage, groom, and driver, leaving the stable uncrowded.
The man stood up. “My, lord.”
