Page 17 of A Lady’s Mishap (The Lockwood Family #5)

17

E lodie entered the dining room, joining Mattie and Winston at the large table. Her mother and father sat at either end, with Delphine seated directly across from her.

Mattie gave her a warm smile. “Good morning, Elodie.”

“Good morning,” Elodie responded, unfolding her napkin and setting it on her lap.

Her father gave her a pointed look. “It is good of you to join us, Daughter.”

“Better late than never,” Winston teased.

As a footman placed a plate of food in front of her, Bennett entered and took a seat beside his wife, casting Elodie a knowing glance. “Our dear friend, Anthony, has bought Elodie a rather unique gift. Is that not right?”

Elodie tilted her chin. “Indeed, he did. I found it very thoughtful of him.”

Her mother leaned forward with interest. “Well, do not keep us in suspense. What did he give you?”

Elodie hesitated, then replied, “A miniature horse.”

Mattie’s eyes widened with delight. “How wonderful! You have wanted a miniature horse since you were a little girl. I am thrilled for you.”

Winston leaned towards his wife, his expression less enthused. “It seems a bit forward for a friend to give such a gift.”

“He is a family friend, is he not?” Elodie countered, defending Anthony’s gesture.

Bennett crossed his arms and gave her a quizzical look. “And what exactly do you plan to do with this miniature horse?”

Elodie beamed. “Lord Henry and I will be the best of friends.”

“You intend to befriend a horse?” Bennett asked.

“Why not?” Elodie asked. “Lord Henry is the perfect friend. He is quiet and does not criticize.”

Bennett shook his head. “A miniature horse will only take up space in our stables. They serve no real purpose.”

“Perhaps I can bring Lord Henry inside…” Elodie started.

Her father quickly interrupted her, his tone firm. “Absolutely not! I am still debating if I will even allow you to keep this horse.”

Elodie’s face fell. “Please, Father. Do not make me return Lord Henry.”

Her father’s eyes held compassion. “You must consider the implications of such a gift. Such gestures are usually reserved for a fiancé.”

“He is just a friend, Father,” Elodie insisted.

Her mother reached out and gently squeezed her hand. “I am not opposed to you keeping this miniature horse, but let this be the last gift from Anthony.”

A bright smile broke across Elodie’s lips. “I can agree to that. Thank you, Mother.”

Just then, White stepped into the room and announced, “Lord Westcott has come to call on Lady Elodie.” He met her gaze. “Are you accepting callers at this time?”

Elodie pushed her chair back. “I am.”

Her mother stood as well. “I will accompany you—for propriety’s sake.”

Clearing his throat, her father said, “Do let Lord Westcott down gently, assuming it comes to that.”

She nodded. “I will, Father.”

As she walked with her mother to the drawing room, a pang of apprehension settled in her stomach. She rather liked Lord Westcott, but only as a friend. She hoped he was here simply for a social call and nothing more.

Stepping into the drawing room, she saw Lord Westcott standing by the window, his back to them. His tall figure was framed by the morning light filtering through the glass, and for a moment, Elodie admired his handsome profile.

After a moment, Elodie thought it was best to make their presence known. “Good morning, my lord.”

Lord Westcott turned to face her, bowing deeply. “Lady Elodie. Lady Dallington.”

Elodie gestured towards the tea service on the table. “Would you care to join us for tea?”

He paused, shifting uncomfortably in his stance. “Actually, I was hoping for a private word, if I may.”

She exchanged a look with her mother, who nodded discreetly. “Would you care to tour the gardens with me?”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and he managed a faint smile. “I would be honored.”

Lord Westcott stepped forward, offering his arm, and they made their way outside in comfortable silence. Elodie knew why he was here, and she knew this impending conversation was going to be most difficult. She may care for Lord Westcott, but not enough to marry him.

Once they reached the gardens, she gently slipped her hand from his arm, turning to face him. “How is your sister?” There. That was a safe question.

“She is well, thank you,” he replied, but his tone was unmistakably serious. “Though, to be honest, I did not come here to speak about her.”

“The weather, perhaps?” she suggested, half-teasing, trying to hold off his next words.

He shook his head. “No, not the weather, either,” he said with a quiet sigh. “Lady Elodie, I was hoping that you might consider?—”

Suddenly, Anthony’s voice boomed from the other side of the gardens’ gate, louder than necessary. “Westcott! What brings you here?”

Westcott turned, clearly frustrated by the interruption. “Belview,” he greeted, his voice terse. “I was calling upon Lady Elodie.”

Anthony opened the gate and stepped in. “You picked a fine day to do so,” he remarked, glancing skyward. “I expect we might even see the sun soon.”

“Lord Westcott would prefer not to discuss the weather,” Elodie said. “And what, pray tell, brings you here?”

“I was on my way back from the stables and realized you were without a chaperone. I thought I would offer my services,” Anthony replied.

Elodie was not fooled by his explanation. What was Anthony up to? “My mother is watching from the parlor,” she pointed out.

“Of course she is,” Anthony said. “I should have suspected. Lady Dallington is quite diligent in her chaperoning duties.”

But Anthony made no move to leave, and Elodie felt her patience fray. “Do you not have work to see to?” she pressed, hoping he would take the hint.

He shrugged. “Nothing that cannot wait.”

Elodie decided to try another tactic but stopped herself. Why was she in such a rush for Anthony to leave? The longer he was here, the less likely that Lord Westcott would offer for her.

Lord Westcott was not as patient, though, and fixed Anthony with an irritated stare. “I was hoping to speak to Lady Elodie alone .”

Anthony tipped his head. “I completely understand,” he said, though he did not budge an inch. “I often enjoy speaking with Elodie alone myself. You know she is quite fond of miniature horses. You should ask her about it sometime.”

Lord Westcott’s irritation deepened. “I had something else in mind.”

“Ah, yes,” Anthony replied with a smile. “Mind if I do a bit of gardening while you talk? I noticed a few weeds that need pulling.”

Lord Westcott looked at him, bemused. “Surely you have gardeners for that task?”

“Indeed, but there is a certain satisfaction in handling it myself.” Anthony cast Westcott a pointed look. “I do not mind getting my hands dirty. Do you?”

Lord Westcott frowned. “Gardening is hardly my pastime.”

Anthony looked disappointed. “Well, you cannot be good at everything. We all have our strengths.”

Elodie stifled a smile, watching as Anthony casually picked at weeds in his gardens. She had never seen him take an interest in gardening in all the years she had known him. Why now the sudden interest?

Lord Westcott sighed in defeat and turned to her with a determined look. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation indoors?”

“Very well,” she replied, and as she took his offered arm, she cast a final, curious glance at Anthony. He winked at her, and she felt warmth rise to her cheeks. Dear heavens, why did he have such a profound effect on her? It was maddening.

As Lord Westcott escorted Elodie into the corridor, he cast a glance over his shoulder, muttering with a touch of impatience, “Does Lord Belview often linger outside, loitering about like that?”

“I must admit, it is rather unusual for him.”

With a dismissive shake of his head, Lord Westcott led her into the drawing room, where he finally released her arm, his voice dropping to a murmur. “At last, we are alone?—”

“Not quite,” came a calm, familiar voice from across the room. Bennett sat comfortably in an armchair, one leg casually crossed over the other, a book open in his hand as if he had been there all afternoon.

Elodie raised an eyebrow, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Bennett held up his book. “I am reading.”

“You never read,” Elodie remarked.

“I read all the time,” he replied. “And perhaps I shall write a book myself someday. Surely there are countless people eager to learn from my vast knowledge.”

Elodie laughed. “Oh? And what wisdom could you possibly impart, Brother?”

Bennett shrugged. “I shall have to dwell on that. Though Delphine seems to hang on my every word.”

“She is your wife,” Elodie teased.

“Yes, she is,” Bennett said, rising from his seat. “And on that note, I will grant you two some privacy. But I am not far. I will be just on the other side of this door, ever watchful.”

Once Bennett left the room, Lord Westcott turned back to Elodie, running a hand through his neatly combed hair. “It seems as if everyone is conspiring against me today.”

“Whatever for?” Elodie asked, feigning ignorance.

Taking a breath, Lord Westcott reached for her gloved hand. “Lady Elodie, I was hoping that you would consider being my wife.”

Elodie stared back at him, her heart quickening despite her previous suspicions of his intentions. “Your wife?” she repeated.

“Yes, my wife,” he affirmed, his tone steady.

Elodie glanced down at their intertwined hands, her mind racing. “Surely you do not want to marry me.”

“I do,” he replied. “You are the Season’s diamond, and I am thought to be among the most eligible bachelors in London. A union between us would make sense.”

She withdrew her hand sharply. “Is that why you are offering for me? Because I am the diamond?”

Lord Westcott’s brow creased slightly. “Not entirely. I also find you to be a delight.”

“But, what else?”

He faltered, grasping at words. “Well, you are extraordinarily beautiful, of course, but?—”

“Do you love me?” she asked bluntly.

Lord Westcott blinked, visibly taken aback. “Love?” he stammered. “Good heavens, what does love have to do with marriage?”

She took a small step back, her voice resolute. “I want to fall desperately, hopelessly in love, my lord,” Elodie said.

There was a faint urgency in his eyes as he said, “I am not saying that we would not find love in time. But isn’t what we have enough?”

“Not for me,” she asserted. “I’m sorry, but I must decline your offer.”

Lord Westcott gave her a perplexed look. “Are you certain? I know you say that you want love, but perhaps with more time to think…”

She spoke over him. “I am quite certain, my lord.”

He hesitated, then gave a slow, accepting nod. “Very well. I shall see my way out.”

After he had gone, Elodie sank onto the settee, releasing a long, weary sigh. She had no desire to hurt Lord Westcott, but she could not in good conscience marry the man. They were friends, nothing more.

Moments later, Bennett appeared in the doorway, his expression thoughtful. “I may have overheard your conversation, and for what it is worth, I think you made the right choice.”

“I know I did. But I did not want to hurt him.”

“Westcott will manage,” Bennett reassured her. “I am much more concerned about you.”

Elodie forced a smile to her lips. “Do you not have a book to write?”

He grinned, his playful arrogance restored. “I do. The world awaits a literary masterpiece by ‘A Lord.’”

“‘A Lord’?”

Bennett gave her a smug smile. “Yes, because my book will be so popular that I need to use a pseudonym for my own sanity.”

Elodie felt her spirits lift with this ridiculous exchange. “You are utterly delusional.”

“Come, let us return to breakfast,” Bennett said, lifting his hand. “I could use another piece of bread. Do you mind buttering it for me?”

“Butter your own bread, Brother,” Elodie retorted, rising.

The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the study as Anthony sat at his desk, reviewing his accounts. Despite his attempts to focus on the columns of numbers before him, his mind kept drifting to thoughts of Elodie. He would have the opportunity to see her tonight at Mrs. Fletcher’s soiree.

Percy stepped into the room and announced, “My lord, there is a Mr. —”

Before Percy could finish, Grady entered the room, his expression grave. “I need to speak to you.”

Anthony gave Percy a nod, signaling him to leave and shut the door. Once they were alone, Anthony leaned forward, concern in his voice. “What has happened, Grady?”

Grady approached the desk and produced a folded piece of paper, holding it out to Anthony. “I intercepted this message from a street urchin that was meant for you.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed as he took the note, unfolding it with unease. His eyes scanned the message.

The time is up. Place ten thousand pounds in a sack, leave it in the back alley on Grantham Street tonight at dusk and walk away. If you fail to follow my instructions explicitly, Lady Elodie’s reputation will be ruined.

Anthony looked up at Grady. “What are we to do?”

Grady’s eyes were sharp and steady. “I have a plan.”

“Good, because I am at a loss as to what to do,” he admitted.

Grady took a seat across from him, leaning forward. “We will put a hundred pounds in the sack and fill it with papers to make up the weight. At first glance, it will appear to be the full amount. Then I will follow the person who picks it up and find out who is behind this.”

Anthony gave him a doubtful look. “What if they notice you following?”

A sly smile crossed Grady’s face. “They won’t. I have become rather skilled at going unseen. Have you even noticed me watching you these past few days?”

“You have?” Anthony asked.

“Yes,” Grady replied. “And I must say, your exchanges with Lady Elodie are rather telling.” Anthony did not want to discuss Elodie with Grady, much less anyone. “All right. I will go to the bank and secure the funds.”

“No need,” Grady said. “It is already done. I forged the necessary documents, withdrew the funds, and left it with Percy. Though perhaps you might reconsider your choice of bank in the future. It is not quite secure.”

Anthony frowned, both grateful and perturbed. “Once the blackmailer realizes we have shorted him, what is to stop him from following through on his threat?”

“Once I have identified him, I will have him thrown into Newgate,” Grady said. “A few nights there will have him eager to cooperate.”

“And if he does not?” Anthony pressed, unwilling to leave anything to chance.

Grady grinned, as if he found Anthony’s question to be very amusing. “He will. My methods of persuasion are quite effective.”

Anthony leaned back in his chair, studying Grady. “But why demand the money in an alley, and why at dusk?”

“Dusk is when the laborers flood the streets on their way home. Grantham Street will be crowded, a perfect cover for an escape,” Grady explained. “But I will have no trouble moving through a crowd. You, however, would draw attention.”

Anthony inclined his head, acknowledging the point. “Do you have any ideas on who this blackmailer could be?”

“I have my suspicions,” Grady replied. “But I would prefer to confirm them before sharing.”

A knock interrupted them, and Percy reappeared. “Lord Westcott requests a moment of your time, my lord.”

“Send him in,” Anthony said.

A moment later, Lord Westcott entered, his gaze darting from Anthony to Grady, tension evident in his posture. “I need to speak with you alone,” he said tersely.

Anthony closed the ledger on his desk. “You may speak freely in front of Grady.”

Lord Westcott hesitated. “What are your intentions towards Lady Elodie?”

“Pardon?” Anthony asked. He had not been anticipating that question. He thought Lord Westcott was here to discuss the blackmailer.

“I believe my question was clear,” Westcott said, his voice firm.

Anthony met Lord Westcott’s gaze. “Why, may I ask, are you asking me this?”

Lord Westcott stepped closer to the desk. “Lady Elodie declined my proposal of marriage, and I believe it is because of you.”

“Me?” Anthony asked. “Lady Elodie and I do not have an understanding.”

“That is apparent, but I suspect you desire one,” Lord Westcott countered.

Anthony rose from his seat, struggling to keep his temper in check. “Not that it concerns you, but even if I did, Lady Elodie has not indicated she wants anything of the sort.”

“Have you even bothered to ask her?”

“No,” Anthony replied.

Lord Westcott let out an exasperated sigh. “Perhaps you should spend less time gardening and recognize what is right in front of you.”

Anthony walked over to the drink cart. He needed a drink. He no more wanted to discuss Elodie with Lord Westcott than he wanted to chew glass. He picked up the decanter and poured three glasses.

He offered them each a glass before retaking his seat. “Is Lady Elodie the only reason why you are here?”

Lord Westcott glanced down at the drink in his hand, visibly conflicted. “No. I also received a blackmail letter, demanding ten thousand pounds to protect my sister’s reputation.”

Anthony nodded. “I received the same instructions.”

Lord Westcott placed his glass onto the desk. “It took some time, but my sister did confess to what happened that night. She also mentioned you enlisted a Bow Street Runner.”

“I did.” He gestured towards Grady. “This is Grady. He is investigating the matter.”

Lord Westcott’s brow furrowed. “Am I truly to leave a sack of money in some alley and hope for the best?”

Grady rose. “You will do nothing. I will follow the blackmailer and deal with him myself.”

“And by ‘deal with him,’ you mean…” Lord Westcott’s voice trailed off.

Grady’s smile grew grim. “It means I will arrest him and send him to Newgate until I convince him to remain quiet.”

“How will you convince him?” Lord Westcott pressed.

Grady placed his full glass onto the drink cart. “Have you had rats crawl across your skin at night as you lay on the cold ground that reeks like the inside of a chamber pot?”

Lord Westcott shuddered. “I have not.”

“Trust me. Newgate can break even the toughest of men,” Grady said. “Now, it is almost time for Lord Belview to make the drop in the alleyway.”

Lord Westcott stood up. “And what if you are wrong on this?”

“I am not,” Grady replied.

“But humor me for a moment,” Lord Westcott started. “I cannot have my sister’s reputation ruined.”

Grady’s eyes held understanding. “Trust me, my lord. I know what I am doing. This blackmailer is no match for me.”

Anthony interjected, his tone calm but resolute. “Trust Grady. He is our best hope.”

With a solemn nod, Westcott walked over to the door and stopped. “I love my sister and I would do anything to keep her name out of the newssheets.”

“I feel the same way about Lady Elodie,” Anthony replied.

As Lord Westcott left, Grady watched him go, his expression shadowed by something unspoken. “My own sister once trusted the wrong man, and her life was ruined,” he said softly. “I will not let that happen to Lady Elodie or Lady Eugenie.”

Anthony could hear the pain in Grady’s voice, and he said, “I believe you.”

Grady’s gaze shifted to him thoughtfully. “But Lord Westcott is right about one thing. You should tell Lady Elodie how you feel.”

“She is not ready yet. If I said anything, it would scare her off.”

Grady’s expression softened with understanding. “My profession is a lonely one. I work long hours, leaving me little time for a wife. But if I ever found someone who looked at me the way Elodie looks at you, I would never let her go.”

Anthony dropped down onto the settee. “She only looked at me that way because I bought her a miniature pony.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

Glancing up at the ceiling, Anthony replied, “I do not know what to believe. Not anymore. I just want her to be happy.”

Grady came to sit down across from him. “And you do not believe you could be the one to make her happy?”

Anthony looked away. “Why does this matter to you?”

“Lord Winston mentioned you might need encouragement to share your feelings,” Grady replied with a slight smile.

He let out a long sigh. “Enough of this. We have a blackmailer to catch.”

Grady put his hands up in mock surrender. “I will drop it… for now. But Lord Winston did pay me extra to offer relationship advice.”

With a glance at the long clock in the corner, Anthony said, “We should depart if we want to arrive at dusk.”

“You go first, and I will trail behind,” Grady said.

Anthony walked over to the door. “I wish you luck.”

Grady’s expression grew serious. “I would much rather catch a blackmailer than go to a soiree. It is I that should be wishing you luck.”

As Anthony exited the study to go in search of Percy, he hoped that this evening went well. The weight of the blackmailer’s threat bore down on him, but deeper still, he realized how much Elodie meant to him. That is when he realized something. He had once wondered how long Elodie had been on his mind, but it occurred to him that since they were young, she had never left.

As he entered the entry hall, Stephen spotted him and raised an eyebrow. “Where are you off to in such a rush?”

“I have an errand to take care of before the soiree,” Anthony replied.

Stephen’s expression soured with mild irritation. “Do not make us late. I have every intention of joining my friends in the cards room, and I will not miss my chance because of you.”

“Good heavens, I would never be so monstrous as to delay your reunion with the card tables,” Anthony mocked. “If you are that concerned, why not take the other coach?”

Stephen huffed. “Maybe I will.”

At that moment, Percy stepped into the entry hall, a small sack in his hands. “As per Mr. Grady’s instructions, my lord,” he announced, holding it up.

“Excellent work, Percy,” Anthony replied.

Stephen’s gaze dropped to the sack, his expression turning suspicious. “What are you mixed up in, Brother?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Anthony replied dismissively.

Tossing up his hands, Stephen said, “I do not know why I bother even speaking to you. I shall see you at the soiree. Do try not to embarrass me this evening.”

Anthony watched his brother turn on his heel and leave. He glanced down at the sack in his hand and hoped tonight it would all go according to plan.