Page 55 of Why Do Earls Fall in Love?
“Put him in his lordship’s sitting room, as I said, Alfred. Thank you.”
The footman, obviously disapproving, bowed and left. On a hunch, Charlotte crossed to the door and bent to inspect the latch. As she’d thought. Sticky.
Sighing, she gave Margie a list of things to check in the rooms and went out to meet Mr. Cheltan.
* * *
Whiddon was having a lessproductive time of it. He and Chester had finally tracked down the location of Perry Brothers Printing and Engraving. They arrived early, but the place was open. The small front room, though, held only a counter, behind which sat stacks of assorted paper, newspapers, books and chap books and stacked printing trays filled with type. The walls were covered with notices, tracts, pamphlets, broadsheets and satirical prints. A door back there led to the printing rooms, if the ruckus coming from behind it was to be believed.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
A girl stood behind the counter. On guard—that was the impression she gave. She had dark hair and slanted, knowing eyes and a wide mouth that smiled in welcome. The smile was patently false.
“Good morning.” Whiddon stepped up to the counter. “We should like to see Mr. Perry.”
The deceitful smile held fast. “I’m sorry. Mr. Perry isn’t in today. But if you tell me the sort of project you are interested in, I can match you with someone who can help you.”
Chester was examining a satirical print showcasing a dandy on parade in the park, his pantaloons filled with a breeze that threatened to lift him off the ground. “How much does Mr. Perry pay for an original print like this?” he asked.
“I believe it varies, depending on the quality, and also on the subject,” the girl answered. “Are you an artist, yourself, sir?”
“No. I am not, but I do know a fair few.”
“We’re here on a personal matter, not business,” Whiddon told the girl. “When might we return and expect to find Mr. Perry available?”
“I couldn’t say, sir. His schedule is erratic. Why don’t you leave your card and I’ll give it to him when next I see him?”
“Please just tell him that Whiddon would like to meet with him.”
“Of course, sir.” She smiled and nodded, and he turned to go.
Just as he and Chester reached the door, a great crash sounded in the printing room beyond the counter. The racket stopped. A man cried out. “I’m sorry,monsieur! A mistake! Forgive me.”
There came a crack and then another cry. “Yes, Mr. Perry. Of course, I meant Perry, sir.”
Ominous silence sounded for a moment, but it was broken by a barrage of low, vicious-sounding French and, after a moment, a shout of pain.
Whiddon turned back.
“No, my lord.” The girl had both hands braced on the counter, as if she meant to block his way. She shook her head. “Go, now,” she whispered.
Another anguished cry.
Whiddon didn’t move.
“You’ll only make things worse.”
Chester tugged his arm. With a last look back, Whiddon followed him outside. They walked past several other store fronts before Chester rubbed his hands and grinned. “Well. Now it’s getting interesting. Perry must be your elusive refugee, yes?”
“Perhaps.”
“Well, that girlmy lordedyou quick enough. She knew who you were, the whole time.”
He nodded grimly. “We need more information. Come on.” Whiddon nodded toward an alley. “Let’s go around to the back and see if there is a spot where we can keep an eye on the comings and goings of the place.”
* * *
“Oh,Charlotte, do come and see this one.” Penelope Sterne’s eyes were bright as she bent over a set of chairs. “It’s a library chair, and it also converts to library stairs, so that you may reach the high shelves!”
