Page 36 of Enlightened
“He doesn’t mind leaving it, though, does he? He told me that he’s already suggested you go elsewhere.”
“I know, but I don’t want him to give up his position over me! He’s making a name for himself—well, a pen name. He doesn’t dare use his own.” She huffed out a laugh at that, though it didn’t contain much humour.
“Listen,” David said, leaning forward over the table. He put a hand over hers. “Your father placed a generous capital sum in trust for you. Properly managed, the income from it will give you a small, steady income, enough to live on—not in luxury but certainly very respectably. If Euan is willing to leave his position behind and look for another elsewhere—well, I think you should thank your lucky stars and go along with it. Go somewhere Kinnell would never think to look, somewhere there is no chance of you ever meeting anyone you’ve been introduced to before—one of the big industrial cities. That’s where Euan’s kind of stories are anyway.”
She paused, considering. “I’ll think about it,” she said at last.
“Do that,” David replied and said no more. He’d planted the seed. It would have to be enough for now.
Once they’d finished their breakfast, David rose from his chair.
“I should go,” he said. “Murdo will be wondering where I’ve got to.”
She glanced at him. “Lord Murdo is with you?”
“He was coming to London already. I just begged a seat in his carriage.”
“And you’re staying with him while you’re here?”
“Yes, at his house on Curzon Street.”
A pause. “Lord Murdo has been very kind to you. Taking you to his estate to recuperate. And now this. You have become friends, then?”
David smiled, but he could feel how tight and unnatural it must look. “I suppose we have,” he admitted.
“Was he expecting you to return last night? Will he be worried?”
David considered how to answer that. Was it credible that a man who merely regarded David as a friend would worry about him if he stayed away for a night? “He knew I was coming to see you,” he said at last, his voice deliberately casual. “So I’m sure he’ll have realised I stayed the night here. After all, I didn’t set out until quite late. All the same, I should go back and offer my apologies—once I’ve seen your uncle, of course. His office is quite close to here, is it not?”
Elizabeth nodded. “At Serjeant’s Inn. It’s perhaps a mile from here and on your way back to Curzon Street. I’ll write the directions down for you.”
She rose from her chair to attend to her task, thoroughly diverted from her curiosity about Murdo Balfour.
Chapter Twelve
Charles Carr’s offices were compact but well appointed. There were two rooms, Mr. Carr’s own office—the door to which was presently closed—and a sizeable anteroom which accommodated two clerks and several commodious chairs where clients waiting to see Mr. Carr could make themselves comfortable.
Having announced himself, David was invited to sit by one of the clerks who slipped off his tall stool, presumably to advise Mr. Carr of David’s arrival. On his return, the clerk retreated behind his desk to continue with his work, and the only sounds to disturb the silence for the next quarter hour were the scratches of nibs on paper.
At length, Mr. Carr’s door opened, and two people emerged, a neat, white-haired man wearing spectacles and an even smaller elderly lady who held his arm tightly. As the man, whom David presumed was Mr. Carr, led his elderly charge towards the front door, he nodded at David and said, “I will be with you once I’ve escorted Mrs. Kirkton to her carriage, Mr. Lauriston.”
“Please take your time,” David replied, nodding in return.
It was a full ten minutes before Mr. Carr returned.
He paused beside David’s chair. “Would you care to join me in my office, Mr. Lauriston?”
“Yes, of course.” David grasped his cane, wincing a little as he rose from his chair, a detail that he was quite sure the watchful solicitor noted.
As they passed the clerk on his high stool, Mr. Carr paused, saying, “Will you ask Polly to bring some tea in to us, Mr. Jenkins?”
The clerk murmured his assent, and Mr. Carr ushered David into his office.
It was a large, comfortably furnished room, reassuring in its solidity. The dark wood of the sizeable mahogany desk gleamed with care, and the hundreds of books that lined the walls looked to be regularly dusted. The desk itself was entirely clear, except for one small, tidy pile of papers right in the middle, tied up neatly with pink ribbon. Mr. Carr lifted the little bundle and placed it in a wooden tray that occupied a corner of the desk. Then he sat down, gesturing at David to take the chair on the other side of the desk.
“I’ve been expecting you, Mr. Lauriston,” he said. “You or Mr. Ferguson, anyway.”
“I hope you don’t mind me coming without an appointment,” David replied. “I only arrived in town late yesterday afternoon. If now is inconvenient…”