Page 59 of The Artisan and the Duke
The workers were mostly women and a few children, with some men scattered in. They sat against the walls, some sleeping and other just staring. As Gregory and Fredrick walked down the length of the workhouse they all turned to look.
Gregory called out, “We are looking for anyone with information about Jules Kelley. She may have spoken to you about being a Duchess or a mason.”
“She’s about this tall,” Fredrick held out his hand level with his chin. “She has long dark hair and dark eyes.”
Only silence met them. Gregory sighed, and they travelled further down calling out the same messages but again got no response. When they finally left, it was with sagging shoulders. As much as they had learned over the last couple of days, they still had no idea where Jules or Mr Larkin was.
The next morning they left again and searched more houses. At one house someone remembered a girl matching Jules’ description, but like every other time, Jules had left the following day, and no one had any idea where she might have gone. The overseers also seemed perplexed because there were no records of anyone going in or out on those days.
By the end of the second day of searching, Gregory was beginning to lose faith. Only Fredrick remained steadfast that they had to keep trying. The truth was that the number of workhouses was not infinite. Gregory knew that soon they would have searched them all.
“The fact is,” Fredrick said, “if they are aware that we are searching the houses, they may be moving her right back into ones that we’ve already searched, or they may have moved her altogether.”
Gregory sighed and leaned his head against his hands. “Do not speak like that, Brother. If they move her beyond the workhouses, then we have no way of knowing where they could have taken her,” Gregory said with a frown.
“I know,” Fredrick said with a slow nod of his head. “I hope they are not aware of it, but if they are powerful enough to get her into the system, then they have to have some pull in the House of Lords … If they have pull there, then they have pull enough to know everything we have done thus far.”
Gregory agreed, “That’s what I fear the most. It is someone who is very connected. I just don’t understand why the plot against you and Jules? If it is Uncle, then it would make more sense for his move to be against me. After all, he still needs to get me out of the way before he can get the mantle of Dukedom.”
“Maybe that’s what he was trying to do,” Fredrick said. “If you lost both of us, then would you really fight too much?”
Gregory thought about it and said, “I think it might make me even more determined to make sure that Uncle never set foot on St Claire land again.”
“You always were an angry man,” Fredrick said with a laugh.
With a roll of his eyes, Gregory looked over at his brother. “You certainly have changed a bit since you came home. I do think that the Duchess has been a bad influence on you,” Gregory said with a smile.
“Nonsense,” Fredrick scoffed. “She has been a wonderful influence, and I intend to repay her kindness by showing that I am not alone in my thoughts and helping you fight the good fight.”
Gregory shook his head and smiled sadly. “I fervently hope that you get the chance to tell her that in person.”
“As do I,” Fredrick said as he leaned over and grasped his brother’s hand on the desk. “Do not lose faith, Gregory. We will find her.”
***
The next morning as Gregory and Fredrick were readying to leave, there came a loud knock upon the door. To Gregory’s surprise, it was Maxwell Chapman. “Sir Chapman,” Gregory said as he waved the man inside before the doorman could do so. “Fredrick, please continue without me. I shall catch up with you after lunch,” Gregory said as he met Fredrick’s eye.
Fredrick gave Gregory a curious look but nodded and said, “Of course. Have a good day, Sir Chapman.” Fredrick placed his cap upon his head and was swiftly out the door to his waiting horse.
“Have I interrupted you?” Maxwell asked anxiously.
Gregory shook his head and motioned for Maxwell to follow him to the study. “Not at all, old friend. My brother and I were merely going out for a morning ride. Please come in.” Gregory held open the study door.
Inside, Gregory offered the man something to drink, but Maxwell refused. Gregory nodded. “The wife must still be after you about that whisky she found in your parlour,” Gregory said with a grin.
Maxwell laughed nervously. “I just don’t think it appropriate.”
“Now, now,” Gregory said with forced amusement. “What can be so important that it negates a little spirit? Most things of grave importance often lead me to drink, I find.”
Maxwell bowed his head as he sat in the leather chair across from Gregory. “Please, Gregory, I beg you to listen to me. I never meant anything ill or untoward to happen,” he said with a voice that trembled from the regret in it.
Gregory sat down the brandy that he had picked up while teasing Maxwell and came to sit behind his desk. Solemnly Gregory asked, “What do you mean by that, Maxwell?”
“We have known each other a long time, have we not?” Maxwell asked. When Gregory nodded, Maxwell continued, “I still remember the first time that I visited Thornton Hall. My father was a proud man, but he did not appreciate my zeal for the law.”
“I do recall him being quite angry when he found out that you intended to take on the wig,” Gregory said quietly.
Maxwell nodded and said, “What you might not realize is that he also chose to slight me with my inheritance. He gave most of it to my younger brother whom he deemed more worthy.” Maxwell drew in a deep breath and folded his hands in his lap.
