Page 48 of The Proposition
“Disperse, please,” Clemency said, following after the men and Delphine. “It is only a fainting spell, fresh air will set her to rights.”
She joined them all as Audric burst through the front doors, Delphine in his arms, Ralston sprinting ahead to meet the carriage and leap up into the driver’s box.
“I’m all right,” Delphine murmured as he placed her into the carriage, her eyes wide and rolling. Audric swore under his breath, collapsing onto the bench. Beside him, Delphine giggled. “Lord, what a jolly afternoon.”
16
Clemency walked a slow, solemn circle around Audric’s study in Grosvenor Square, finding it a curiously intimate little window into his mind. It felt like her discovery of Ede had been the key unlocking her access to the inner sanctum of his machinations.
“This is everything you could find?” Audric was asking.
His hired man Stanhope stood with his arms crossed in the center of the room, eyes fixed on Clemency as she made her own investigation. The riotous hothouse flowers on Audric’s desk were no doubt from Delphine, but Clemency had foolishly and jealously glanced at them anyway, to make certain they were not from an admirer. A few glowering portraits hung on the walls, and she recognized the elder Ferrand at once. He shared Audric’s severe profile and gripping eyes, though somehow even the brushstrokes looked agitated and his gaze empty. Audric’s dogs dozed on the rug before his desk, crowding their master’s feet, jockeying for proximity.
“We are short on time, sir,” Stanhope said, impatient.
“Lady Veitch gave us nothing,” Clemency added. “She hates how crowded those musical rooms become and told Tansy never to ask again.”
“She sounds delightful,” Audric muttered.
“You have no idea.”
“I reckon these are the most promising.” Stanhope leaned over the papers in Audric’s hands and pointed. “Crane, Hewitt, and this one, Chilvers.”
“I beg your pardon!” Clemency had found another interesting portrait, this one of Audric’s entire family, but she was forced to turn away from it. “I know that name…How do I know that name?”
Both men froze, staring at her.
“Howdoyou know that name?” Audric pressed. “It has come up repeatedly in connection to Boyle.”
A memory…a memory…of black ink on faded paper, a flaking wax seal pressed with a familiar design…
“Mrs. Chilvers! My sister’s letter!” Clemency nearly tripped over both dogs as she raced to join them at the desk. “My sister asked me to deliver a letter for her in London, and it was addressed to a Mrs. Chilvers. They sometimes correspond.”
Audric blinked at her over the edge of the paper. “That can be no coincidence.”
“My sister is not involved in Boyle’s schemes,” Clemency insisted. “It could indeed be a coincidence!”
“Not where Boyle is concerned.” Audric tossed the list of salons onto his desk and shooed the hounds away. “But this is a boon. We can use her knowledge of your sister to gain an invitation. Stanhope, can you arrange it? Make it known to Mrs. Chilvers that Miss Fry and a guest would like to attend the salon.”
“Sir, it’s tonight—”
“I noticed. Can you arrange it quickly?”
Stanhope simply tossed up his tweedy arms, withdrew apipe from his pocket, and stormed to the door. After it had slammed shut in his wake, Audric gave a dry laugh.
“He will see it done,” exclaimed Audric, slapping his hands together with anticipation. “And that means you and I must be ready and ready soon. Will it be difficult for you to find an excuse to be absent this evening?”
“Not at all,” Clemency replied. That was hardly her primary concern. “I am not altogether comfortable using my sister’s friendship with this woman to advance our scheme.”
His face darkened, and he gripped the edge of the desk as he leaned back against it. “Clemency, I ask you: What is our aim?”
“To leave Boyle penniless and humiliated,” she replied. “I am not wavering in that, Audric, but Honora is such an innocent soul. It pains me to think she could be at all implicated in—”
“In what? We are only leveraging her knowledge of Mrs. Chilvers to attend a musical salon, nothing more. There is every likelihood that Mrs. Chilvers has nothing at all to do with Boyle, and if we act with care and tact, we need not make a scene this evening.” Audric pushed away from the desk, approaching her with open hands. She had never seen him look so…so…beseeching. “Is something else troubling you?”
Everything else was troubling her. She wanted to throttle him. Then kiss him. Then disappear. Then reappear and toss herself into his arms! Her stomach was in knots as she considered how close they were coming to the end of their arrangement. She did not want it to end.
“What if Boyle is there? We cannot be seen together,” she scrambled.
