Page 65 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
Izzy smiled and inclined her head. “Thank you, Inspector. And you, Sergeant.”
She waved the pair on, and the four of them walked in a loose group down to Bernard Street, then turned for Woburn Place.
Gray used the time to review the activity planned for the next day.
Frowning, he glanced at Izzy. “After you run the press tomorrow, what happens to all the copies of the newspaper?”
She met his eyes. “They’re stacked in bundles and left ready to be picked up for delivery on Friday.”
Gray felt his features harden. He raised his voice so the policemen walking ahead could hear. “Stacks of printed paper burn ferociously hot. If I were the killer and heard about the hue and cry edition, I’d be inclined to burn the entire printing works down.”
They all halted, and the other three turned to regard him with near-identical expressions of horror.
He met their gazes as the truth of what he’d said sank in.
Baines grunted and beetled his brows at his sergeant. “Littlejohn and I will be at the printing works all day tomorrow, and when Littlejohn speaks with the sergeant at the watchhouse tonight, he’ll arrange for a larger force to stand guard tomorrow night—outside as well as inside.”
Satisfied, Gray gave an approving nod—one Izzy slowly copied.
“It’s a disturbing thought,” she said. “But I can’t see what more we can do.”
The four exchanged glances, then walked on.
They parted in Woburn Place, with Baines hailing a hackney to carry him south while Littlejohn trotted north to the nearby watchhouse.
Gray and Izzy strode on along the north side of Russell Square. With his hands sunk in his pockets, he said, “Yesterday evening, I mentioned I was looking for a house in the country.”
She glanced at him. “You’ll need a place if you’re to stand for Parliament.”
“Exactly. I’ve had a land agent searching for suitable properties, and he’s sent word he’s found one for me to look at, preferably as soon as possible. Given Baines and Littlejohn will be at the printing works all day tomorrow, and you’ll be focused on overseeing the print run, I thought I’d seize the day, take a run into the country, and inspect this place the agent’s so keen for me to see.”
She nodded. “That sounds sensible.”
“I’ll be back for breakfast on Friday.”
Oh, good.Izzy inwardly frowned at the relief that swept through her.
She pushed the feeling aside and debated asking where the house was, but really, it was none of her business.
They reached Number 20 and went inside. Agatha was waiting, eager to hear their news. As the old lady rarely got out, Izzy sat and, with Gray doing his part, brought Agatha up to date with what, to her, probably resembled an exciting story told in daily episodes.
Thirty minutes later, with Gray, Izzy was in the carriage, rattling along Oxford Street toward Norfolk Crescent. Evening had fallen, and the street lamps had been lit. A cold wind had blown up and was strafing the pavements, snatching at hats and bonnets, reminding everyone of the season.
As they neared Edgware Road, Izzy glanced through the gloom at Gray, seated in his usual elegant manner on the bench seat opposite. They were rather later than usual, and it was a cold and nasty evening…
“Would you like to stay to dine?” The words surprised her nearly as much as they did him. She hurriedly added, “It’s after six, and it’ll just be us—en famille, as it were. No need to dress. Just stay.”
She couldn’t make out his expression in the gloom, but sensed his quiet pleasure as he inclined his head in acceptance.
“Thank you.” He paused, then confessed, “My gentleman’s gentleman is a wonder with clothes and boots, but he can’t cook to save himself.”
She smiled. “Where in town are you staying?”
“I have lodgings in Jermyn Street, my old stamping ground. Purely temporary until I decide what I’ll be doing regarding everything else—the house, politics, and so on.”
She nodded sagely. “All such factors will heavily influence which area it would be best to buy in.”
The carriage slowed and halted.
