Page 86 of The Time for Love
Eyes widening, Sophy looked from Charlie to Martin. “Good Lord! Do you mean that Edward might be in danger because he can tell us the man’s name?”
“Us and the police.” Oliver tossed down his napkin and pushed back his chair.
A sense of urgency gripped them all.
Martin rose, and Sophy sprang to her feet.
Her grandmother and Julia, both with determined expressions on their faces, were also rising.
Stumping forward, her grandmother waved toward the door. “Let’s go. Into the mews. If we take my traveling carriage, we can all fit, and if anyone’s watching either house, they won’t see us.”
* * *
While everyone donned their coats and hats, Sophy’s grandmother ordered the carriage readied. When Higginbotham informed them that the conveyance was waiting in the mews, they filed out of the house by the rear door and climbed into the large closed traveling coach.
Sophy snaffled a seat by one window. Her grandmother sat beside her, with Julia on her other side. Martin sat on the rear-facing seat opposite Sophy, with Oliver next to him and Charlie beyond.
Remaining shrouded in the gloom within the vehicle, Sophy scanned the pavements as the carriage rolled sedately through the center of the town, eventually crossing Norfolk Street to reach Surry Street and, finally, Sycamore Street.
Immediately before the corner of Sycamore Street, the carriage drew in to the curb.
Charlie opened the far door and stepped down to the street. He looked back and said, “Keep your eye on the drawing room window. If he’s there and the coast is clear, I’ll close the curtains.”
“We’ll be watching,” Martin replied.
Charlie shut the door and vanished.
The carriage remained stationary for what seemed an age, but according to Martin’s watch, which he consulted at Sophy’s request, the period was only their agreed five minutes long. At Martin’s nod, Oliver rose and tapped on the flap in the roof, then sat again, and the carriage jerked and rolled on, around the corner.
After some discussion, they’d agreed that they had to assume that the mystery man might be maintaining a watch on Edward’s house, so Charlie had volunteered to go in via the mews and the kitchen door. If Edward was at home and alone, Charlie would signal via the drawing room window that faced the street.
They’d explained as much to her grandmother’s coachman, and he’d suggested pulling up opposite the house next door. That should, he’d said, give them a decent view of the drawing room window of Edward’s house, and when the carriage rocked to a halt, Sophy peered out, and sure enough, she could see the window clearly.
Martin followed her gaze. “It shouldn’t take Charlie much longer.”
A minute later, she spotted movement in the dimness on the other side of the glass. She sat up. “He’s there.” She waited, then the curtain was slowly drawn across the glass. “And there’s the signal.”
Oliver duly rose and tapped the flap in the roof. A second later, the carriage rolled slowly forward and on. The coachman drove around the corner, then down the narrow mews behind the row of well-to-do town houses.
The carriage slowed, then halted, and Charlie hauled open the door to reveal the back gate of Edward’s house.
Charlie handed down Julia, then Sophy’s grandmother. Oliver and Martin followed. Sophy was the last one out, gripping Martin’s hand tightly as he steadied her down the carriage steps.
They hurried to catch up with the others, who were treading the path to the kitchen door. Charlie led them inside, along a short corridor, and into a decent-sized kitchen.
A cook and a maid looked up in surprise.
The cook quickly wiped her hands and hurried forward, bobbing in obeisance. “Your ladyship. Mrs. Canterbury. Miss Carmichael.” The buxom woman shot a glance at an inner door that opened to reveal Edward’s butler, Calwell, rapidly shrugging on his coat.
He saw them gathered in the kitchen and looked shocked. “Your ladyship! Master Charlie.”
Sophy’s grandmother waved placatingly. “Yes, yes, Calwell. All most irregular, I know, but we’re here to see your master, who we understand is in. Don’t worry. We’ll see ourselves through.”
But Calwell would have none of that. He hurried to escort them along another corridor and held open the green baize-covered door at its end. As they filed past into the front hall, Calwell ventured, “I’ll just announce you—”
“No need, Calwell,” Charlie said. “M’brother’s in the library, and I rather think we’ll join him there.” More softly, he added, “Where we’ll be out of sight of any interested eyes.”
“But…” Calwell looked scandalized. “At least…” He appealed to Sophy’s grandmother. “Tea, my lady?”
