Page 15 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock (The Rogue’s Alliance #3)

T he next day dawned cloudy for his morning call on Lady Louisa. He’d never actually called on a lady before. Not a marriageable lady, anyway. Cecil sincerely hoped Leopold was not at home.

He completed his toilette. Cecil did need a valet, although he didn’t think anyone had his way with a cravat. The Veterans Registry Office came to mind. Surely there were batmen who’d returned from the war who would do a credible job as a valet. And perhaps a cook, footmen- He was getting ahead of himself. With the possibility of bringing down the RA coming closer, he was finally looking toward the future.

Dressed in his best morning suit of tan trousers and a claret coat, he gave his appearance one last check in his dressing mirror.

Downstairs, Acker greeted him. “I’ll bring a tray into the drawing room, my lord.”

“Very good, Acker.”

A few sips of dreadful coffee and a bite of burnt toast later, Cecil rose from his chair and locked the door of the drawing room. After retrieving his clock from its hiding place, he deposited it in an open wooden box, covered it with a linen napkin, and placed several books on top of the timepiece.

Unlocking the door to the room, he made his way to the entry hall of the narrow house, the box under one arm. Once he donned his greatcoat and beaver hat, he accepted his walking stick from Acker.

“Where does one purchase flowers?” he asked the elderly butler.

“Covent Garden, my lord,” the man replied smoothly, a twinkle in his eye, before he added somberly, “Although it’s so early in the season, you will need to acquire flowers from a hothouse rather than a flower market.”

Hothouse? Nathaniel had an orangery. Cecil left the house without another word. Acker probably assumed his employer was courting. He sighed. Most of London would probably think the same. Cecil would hope his name didn’t make it into the society pages. His mother had the papers sent from London; he wouldn’t wish to get her hopes up that he’d made a match.

“Grosvenor Square,” he called to his driver as he entered the coach.

Edith could help him with the flowers. She had to. They were the price of admission to Carstairs.

* * * * *

L ouisa did indeed sleep in and felt well-rested when she opened her eyes. A maid must have seen to the coals in the grate as a low fire glowed in the hearth. The drapes in her room were open, and she saw a cold, dreary day.

She stretched and propped herself up on the pillows behind her. A moment later, Lucy peeked inside the bedchamber.

“Good morning, my lady. A tray?”

“Yes, Lucy.”

Soon after, the maid returned with Louisa’s chocolate and buttered toast. It was her favorite breakfast and had been since she was a child.

“What dress for the morning, my lady?”

She thought a moment. “The new light green.”

“Are you expecting visitors? It’s the prettiest of your morning dresses.”

“One never knows,” she replied with a quick smile, sipping her chocolate.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, my lady, but the countess is in a dreadful mood.” She added in a low voice, “The patronesses didn’t issue either her or you a voucher for Almack’s.”

She wasn’t surprised. One of Almack’s patronesses, Lady Cowper, wanted the squat baron for her plain niece and was not best pleased that the gentleman continued to fawn over Louisa.

“I’ll keep well away from her bedchamber,” she replied with a grin.

Breakfast finished, Lucy helped her dress.

“Let’s try my hair in the upswept fashion you pointed out in Ackermann’s most recent issue,” she said, meeting the maid’s eyes in the dressing mirror.

“It is so daring! You will look very stylish, my lady. Not that you aren’t already the most fashionable lady in society.”

The maid was proud of her mistress’s looks and wasn’t afraid to say so. Louisa let her chatter on as she thought about Lord Wycliffe’s visit.

A thought gave her pause. “Are my brothers at home?”

“All except Leopold,” the maid replied, shaking her head. “I overheard James say he expected the house to be flooded with callers.”

He did? James couldn’t know of the viscount’s visit.

There was a knock at her bedchamber door. “Come!”

Louisa’s mother opened the door and entered the room. She smiled widely, her color high. “My dear, make haste. The drawing room is bursting with gentlemen callers.”

She blinked. “For me?”

“Of course, for you.” Her mother strode forward, took Louisa’s hand, and pulled her to a standing position. Releasing her daughter, she said, “You look quite lovely. And your hair. Well done, Lucy! Now come along, Louisa.”

With one last look at her reflection, Louisa snatched up her sketch pad from her night table and followed her mother from the room, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe the drawing room was full of gentlemen callers.

Alas, it was. Front and center was her baron, the interest from other males of the ton evidently sending Lord Danner back to her door. A drawing room full of male callers was the only event that would make Louisa’s mother forget being denied an Almack’s voucher.

Louisa’s remaining three brothers sat in a corner of the room observing the festivities.

As she greeted each gentleman separately, accepted their flowers, and oohed and awed over them, she was painfully aware that Lord Wycliffe was not among her admirers. Her mother buzzed about the room, speaking briefly to each visitor.

Two hours and several cups of tea and biscuits later, the last caller departed.

Louisa slumped back on the settee she’d yet to move from. “Please have the tea tray taken away, mother. I don’t want to see another for some time.”

A footman entered the room and intoned, “Lord Wycliffe and Lady Harbury.”

Edith rushed in with a large hat box in hand, the viscount following more sedately, a bemused expression on his face.

The gentleman bowed elegantly and held out the most beautiful arrangement of pink flowers and ivy.

“Lady Louisa, you look exquisite as always.”

His warm voice and spicy cologne washed over her, and just like that, Louisa wished that Lord Wycliffe was there because he wanted to be.

* * * * *

N athaniel’s mansion was situated across the square from Carstairs. As his coach drove by Louisa’s home, Cecil was struck by the number of carriages lined up along the road.

When Cecil was ensconced in a parlor after being greeted by Lady Edith, he asked, “Whatever is occurring down the street?”

“Louisa is entertaining callers.”

“Callers?” He raised a brow.

“Gentlemen callers.” The lady settled back against the cushions of her plush chair. “It looks as if every eligible man in London is calling on my friend today.”

Nathaniel entered the room. “Cecil! You look even more elegant than usual.”

He felt his cheeks grow warm. Perhaps he had taken extra care with his appearance. It was strange for Nathaniel to notice.

“You did remember flowers?” Edith asked him, raising a brow.

“I hoped you could help with that,” he replied with a smile.

“Flowers?” Nathaniel came to sit nearby on a hardbacked chair. “For Louisa?”

He nodded. “Louisa said it was necessary. To keep up the pretense.”

His friend exchanged a glance with his wife. Both wore grins.

“Laugh if you will.” He sniffed. “It is all in aid of my gaining that clock.”

“I anticipated your needing a bouquet so I have already cut several of my favorite pink roses and wrapped them in a lace handkerchief. Perhaps we should wait a short time before proceeding to Carstairs,” Edith suggested. “It would be impossible to discuss the clocks privately with so many gentlemen calling on Louisa.”

He nodded. “I agree.”

“I’ll order tea,” Edith replied.

A maid entered at the sound of the bell and hurried away to fetch a tea tray and the flowers Edith had spoken about.

“Did you purchase the baby rattles?” Edith asked him.

“I did. Fortnum and Mason had a large selection.”

Nathaniel looked to be holding back a laugh.

“Out with it,” he said to his friend grumpily.

“You’re acting like an ordinary person. Making calls, purchasing baby gifts. Are you an imposter?”

He frowned. “Sometimes I have to behave like the rest of society if only to further my battle against the RA.”

“That sounds plausible enough.” And yet Nathaniel’s tone of voice conveyed that he didn’t believe the excuse at all.

Thankfully, the tea tray arrived.

When the teacups were sorted, Nathaniel’s expression turned serious and he said with a raised brow, “I heard you visited Louisa’s bedchamber.”

“She told you?” Cecil asked Edith lightly.

His hostess shrugged. “Of course.”

“Should we expect an announcement?” Nathaniel asked blandly. “The lady could have been compromised.”

“It would serve you right if I said yes,” he retorted. “I sent you a missive that night to explain my plan to steal the clock while Louisa was out.”

“I received no such note,” Nathaniel replied.

“I entrusted the missive to Bones. I expected the lady to be out,” he replied, knowing that despite his casual manner, Nathaniel wanted an explanation. “There will be no further instances of our being alone together.”

“I’ll take your word on that,” Nathaniel responded gravely.

A few minutes later, Cecil rose from his seat and walked to a front window to look across the square.

“The street is still full of carriages,” he said with a sigh. He’d never realized Louisa was so sought after by the young bucks of the ton . Perhaps she was only prickly when in his company.

“Let us think about the clues to the riddle,” Edith replied brightly.

Turning from the window, he retook his seat.

“Edith tells me your clues are Cupid, Venus, and Diana.” Nathaniel sat forward in his chair. “All Roman gods.”

“I can think of no members of the ton with the moniker Venus or Cupid.” He added, “There are several ladies named Diana.”

“Another detail not to be ignored is that the clocks were made before the duke died in 1790. The other men that helped form the RA were most likely adults at the time,” Nathaniel replied.

He nodded. “The duke was nearly 78 years old when he died twenty years ago.”

“How old was Lord Daventry when he died?” At Cecil’s questioning look, Edith said, “Nathaniel told me all about Daventry and his letter to you.”

“He was nearly fifty. I do believe, as he did, that he was slowly being poisoned. The Duke of Montagu found two young, impressionable men to start a criminal enterprise. It boggles the mind.”

“It is all rather extraordinary.” Nathaniel stood up. “Alas, I have an appointment with my tailor. I do wish you both success with your errand. Retrieve the clock, Cecil, so my wife and Louisa can be clear of this business.”

His friend leaned down to kiss his wife on the cheek and exited the room.

“Shall I check the traffic?” Edith asked.

“Let me.”

The street was still congested.

“So, we believe our third founder is male, alive, and over fifty years old,” Edith said after Cecil regained his seat.

“That narrows it down to a few thousand possibilities.”

Edith shook her head. “If the ton consists of only a few hundred families, we are now down to less than a thousand possibilities. Our third founder is male and over 50.”

“So almost half the House of Lords?” He threw up his hands.

His hostess smiled. “An excellent point.”

“My clock’s clue, the goddess Diana, refers to Lord Daventry. We have to discover how Diana is connected to Daventry. Once we see that link, it may help us work out how Cupid and Venus identify the third founder of the RA.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes until he asked, “Where is Miss Alicia?”

“At the modiste with Lady Kettering.”

“That lady has taken quite an interest in Nathaniel’s sister,” he replied idly.

“I don’t know how either one gets a word in edgewise.” Edith shook her head. “Both of them are chatterboxes.”

He knew only too well how much Alicia could talk, having been friends with her brother these many years. “I thought she and Charlotte’s brother Willaim might form a tendre.”

“As did I. Nathaniel was set against it, so I’m glad it didn’t occur. My husband believes they would not suit.”

“How is William?” he asked merely to fill the time.

“He has decided he enjoys running his father’s estates, much to Charlotte’s relief. She was worried he would never settle into his responsibilities.”

Responsibilities. They were always there whether you took care of them or not.

He shook himself. “Let me see if the mob has thinned somewhat.”

There was only one carriage visible on the opposite side of the square. Cecil saw no signs of Leopold across the way and sighed in relief.

“Shall we go?”

Edith looked at the box of books resting on the floor near his seat. “I nearly forgot about the hat box. Let me retrieve it from my bedchamber. I don’t want a maid to carry it and realize it is empty.”

He waited patiently while Lady Edith went upstairs to get the hat box. Perhaps a few more minutes might result in another caller or two departing Carstairs.

When she reentered the room, Edith walked to place the hat box on the floor next to his books and then closed and locked the door to the room.

Cecil pulled out the books from his box and lifted the red silk-lined ebony box from its place.

“May I see it?” Edith asked.

“Of course,” he replied, pulling the linen from the box.

Edith reached out to take the box and place it on the table before her. Opening the box, she lifted out the clock and said, “It is exquisite. Diana, goddess of the hunt.”

The goddess held a bow in her left hand and a dead bird in the other.

“Both clocks feature arrows,” he commented.

“Perhaps that is significant.”

Edith looked over the clock, turning it in her hands before placing it back in the ebony box. She opened the hat box and pulled out a rather drab bonnet. “I need a plausible reason for visiting Louisa with a hat box. If anyone is curious, I will say that Louisa offered to embellish my old bonnet.”

“Very good.” Cecil placed the clock in the hat box, and Edith added the bonnet. He replaced the cover and asked, “Shall we go?”

Cecil carried the box into the entry hall and placed it on the large round table in the center of the room next to the bouquet Edith had carried from the parlor. Once they’d donned their outerwear, Edith insisted on his carrying the flowers while she carried the hat box.

Arm in arm, they marched down the steps of the house and out into the chilly day.