Page 14 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock (The Rogue’s Alliance #3)

C ecil entered his coach and settled back against the velvet squabs. He was famished.

Although he rode, boxed, and walked quite a bit, the dancing had tired him.

Louisa was an excellent dancer. Graceful. Edith was light on her feet but not nearly as graceful as her friend.

He recalled Lady Louisa’s smile while she danced. It was open, unaffected. So many of the debutantes appeared to wear a mask of boredom. Perhaps they were bored. He’d enjoyed dancing with Louisa, although he hadn’t expected to.

It was rare for him to attend marriage mart events. He had no plans to find a wife, and the entertainments of the season were held for a man to secure a spouse. And as for Almack’s? Heaven forbid.

Seated in the upper dining room of White’s enjoying a glass of port, he thought about how he would get the clock out of his drawing room and into his carriage on the morrow. There was a box of books he’d been meaning to dispose of. That would do well enough. He would cover the clock with the books. Now that was sorted, he could relax.

His dinner of beef and boiled potatoes arrived. Several gentlemen walked by his table and called a greeting, but no one stopped for a conversation. He’d cultivated few friendships; perhaps that was why he missed the company of Ashford and Nathaniel.

He finished his meal. When he exited the building, Cecil waved his driver off, determined to walk his introspective mood away. Walking stick in hand, he wasn’t worried about traversing the London streets at night. He enjoyed the night; he felt a part of it.

Cecil whistled the melody from a piece of music at the ball. A vision of Lady Louisa’s laughing face came to him. It had been a pleasant change to see her smiling rather than scowling at him.

He would see her again tomorrow. He reminded himself why. He was going to bring down the RA and find his brother's killer in the process. The clock she possessed was the only reason he'd danced with Louisa and the only reason he would let her help solve the riddle of the clocks.

* * * * *

L ouisa was exhausted . She nearly fell asleep in the coach on the way to Carstairs after the ball.

“You’re smiling,” Edith said from her place on the squabs across the carriage.

“I am?” She sat up and smothered a yawn. “I can’t think why. My feet ache, and all I want is my bed.”

The light inside the coach came from the outside lanterns on the carriage, and she could see Edith grinning at her in the near darkness. Louisa didn’t comment as she was too tired to ask why.

Nathaniel merely looked out of the coach window as he held one of Edith’s hands. He looked content. Happy. Louisa was glad as he really was a very nice man.

When the coach came to a halt in front of Carstairs, she said to her friends, “Don’t worry about seeing me into the house. One of the footmen will look after me.”

A footman helped her from the carriage and followed her into the house after she waved a quick goodbye. Pulling her silk shawl closer around her, she raced up the staircase. The landing was chilly. Hopefully, there was a fire in her bedroom waiting for her.

There was, and Lucy appeared soon after Louisa entered her bedchamber to help her mistress undress.

“I’m going to have a lie in tomorrow,” she told the maid with a yawn as she blew out the candle on the night table, climbed into her bed, and burrowed into the cool sheets. “Get some rest, Lucy.”

The low fire lent a soft glow to the bedchamber. Decorated in shades of blue and yellow, the room was a haven, a quiet space away from Louisa’s male relatives.

Not that she didn’t love her brothers, but she needed a place to escape from their talk of horses, dogs, and shooting parties.

She hummed an Irish air, her lips curling into a soft smile. Lord Wycliffe had enjoyed dancing. He hadn’t wanted to, she was sure, but she could tell he’d enjoyed it.

It had been frustrating that after a set with the viscount, she’d been inundated with requests to dance. Had a dance with one exalted lord improved her standing in the marriage mart?

She chose to believe that not having any of her brothers standing nearby silently evaluating her dance partners helped.

Edith had wanted to tease her, she imagined. Louisa had liked dancing with the aloof viscount, had liked it far too much. It was sobering to think her mother had been right about the power of dancing with someone, and how it could change how you felt about them.

Had her feelings changed, though? She’d always found the viscount fascinating against her will. He was not only a man of great taste but had a no-nonsense way about him that she admired when his brusqueness wasn’t directed her way.

She now understood his approaching herself and Edith about the baby gift. It had been a ruse, but he had been endearing about it. Was she a fool to believe he wanted to please Ashford and Charlotte?

It did not signify that Lord Wycliffe was mysterious and handsome.

“I’m a ninny,” she said out loud. “The viscount has no interest in me other than my clock, and I need to remember that.”

Closing her eyes, she was determined to think of Lord Wycliffe no more but to concentrate on the clocks and the riddle. That should be enough to send her to sleep.

* * * * *

B ones let Cecil into the townhouse. “Everyone else is abed, my lord.”

“You look like you need to speak with me,” he replied quietly. “Come into the drawing room.”

Cecil took a seat in his favorite chair while Bones perched on the leather chair again.

“Quinn has heard rumors the RA is interested in the clock Lady Louisa won at the auction.” Bones frowned. “It is said you have or know where the second clock is. My lord, I can’t help you if I don’t know the truth.”

“I do know where the other clock is,” he replied carefully. He could only tell the man so much, or he would be in danger. “It is safely hidden where no one would think to look.”

“And you would like me to continue keeping a watch over Lady Louisa?” The man raised a brow.

“Not for much longer. If all goes well, I will take possession of her clock tomorrow.”

Cecil was so tired. For the first time in a long time, he felt unsatisfied with his life. For nearly three years, he’d lived in these rooms with no proper staff, and had few relationships as he could trust only a handful of people.

He didn’t fool himself into thinking that bringing down the RA would abolish all crime in London. There would always be thieves and the like. What he couldn’t stomach was the flagrant violence the organization employed to meet its goals. And to think a few lords had founded the group as a lark.

Making others commit crimes for them was a pastime. How abhorrent. Cecil had no idea how his crusade against the RA would end, but he was determined that whoever remained of the founders of the Rogue’s Alliance would pay dearly.