Page 18 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock (The Rogue’s Alliance #3)

“G ood afternoon, Nathaniel .” Cecil nodded to Louisa’s brother. “Leopold.”

The other man stood up. “I was just leaving. Good day, gentlemen.”

Once Leopold had exited the shop, Cecil said, “I didn’t know you two were friends.”

“The man cornered me as the academy was closing for the day. He suggested we visit this coffee house, so here I am.” Nathaniel grinned. “He merely wanted to question me about your financial status.”

“So if I am wealthy enough to provide for his sister, all will be forgiven.” He shook his head.

Nathaniel grinned. “Something like that.”

“I let the ton believe I was destitute in the hope a member of the RA would try to recruit me. The only bite I received was that cit James Landry, who was willing to pay me to marry his daughter.”

“Landry was, by all accounts, a high-ranking RA member,” Nathaniel reminded him. “A nasty piece of work who is now dead.”

After he waved a waiter off, Cecil said, “My house was ransacked while I was at Carstairs today.”

“Ransacked?”

“My rooms are in shambles. According to Eliza and Acker, two men were involved, and they were searching for my clock.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “Cecil! I knew Edith and Louisa should not be involved in this matter!”

“I agree,” he replied calmly. “And I have a plan to extricate them from all of this. We can’t speak here. I arrived in my carriage.”

Nathaniel drained the coffee in his cup. “My coach is just outside. I’ll instruct my driver to return to Grosvenor Square.”

“If you would indulge me, I wish to speak to a contact on Milk Street.”

His friend nodded. “Tell me about the burglary on the way.”

At this time of day, there would be heavy traffic on Piccadilly and along the Thames. Milk Street was a short lane in Cheapside. Cecil’s coach arrived on the thoroughfare some thirty minutes later, Cecil having described what occurred in Curzon Street that day.

“And your cook is missing?” Nathaniel asked, frowning.

“He is. You should also know that my maid and butler are now guests in your home.”

Nathaniel didn’t reply, shaking his head.

The carriage came to a halt, and Cecil’s driver began to whistle Greensleeves. A moment later, the whistling stopped.

“Have you a shilling, my lord?” a shrill female voice inquired from outside the carriage.

“Who asks?” Cecil did not open the coach door.

“Why, Little Mary, my lord.” The female voice was reedy. The woman coughed several times.

Cecil opened the door a crack and handed out a shilling. “What do you know of the burglary on Curzon Street today?”

“I heard tell a dockworker and someone high up in Bow Street were involved. They both had a debt to pay from all accounts. I might know where the runner is.”

He handed out another shilling.

“Thank ye, my lord. The RA has used Hedgerow Stables on Swallow Street before to hide followers before they’re sent out of London. Most of the other buildings have been torn down to make way for the Regent’s new street, but the bricks used for the stable are to be reused from all accounts. Or it could be the RA doesn’t want to lose a good hiding place.”

Cecil wondered if the stable still stood. The construction of the road intended to link Marylebone Park and Carlton House had begun in 1815. “Do you have other information to share?”

“There are rumors about some clocks. Someone in the RA wants those clocks dearly.”

He tossed the woman one last shilling. “Be off with you, Mary.”

Cecil knocked on the ceiling of the coach. “Grosvenor Square!”

“My wife and Lady Louisa are in danger because of those blasted clocks,” Nathaniel said with a grimace.

His quest for justice had put the two women in harm’s way. “I have a proposal to eliminate the threat. I’ll tell you on the way to your home.”

“What about Swallow Street?” Nathaniel asked him.

“I can’t ask you to go with me,” he replied, shaking his head. “You have Edith to think about.”

Nathaniel let out a bark of laughter. “She won’t forgive me if anything happened to you. I’m coming along, my friend.”

* * * * *

L ouisa was surprised to see Leopold in the drawing room when she went downstairs after the conversation with her mother. She’d wanted to study Cecil’s clock again.

“Leopold!”

He nodded. “Sister.”

She stood awkwardly near the door of the room.

“Are you coming in?”

Louisa walked forward and took a seat across from her brother. The Thomas Hope book was still on the table. Picking it up, she leafed through the pages until she came to the page describing the Gaston Jolly clocks.

“It seems Lord Cecil’s finances are quite restored.”

She looked up. “Really?” She looked back down.

“Do you have an understanding with the viscount?”

Louisa kept her eyes on the book in her lap. “I do not.”

“You could do worse.”

Looking up, she sighed. “Why, thank you. And are you attached to anyone? Or have plans to be?” She smiled sweetly.

“I do not.” Leopold rose to his feet. “Lord Wycliffe is a viable option for a husband, Louisa. Whomever you choose, I hope he will make you happy.”

When he was gone, she let out a breath. Had she been too harsh with her brother? They argued so often that whenever he spoke to her, she didn’t know whether he was being kind or condescending.

Her father had been asleep when she’d checked on him. Louisa could use his counsel. She would go up and sit with him.

Nodding off in a stuffed chair in her father’s bedchamber, she heard a chuckle.

“My nurse is sleeping?”

“Father!” She yawned and sat up in the chair. “How are you feeling?”

“More like myself. I’m famished. Ring for a tray, Louisa.”

She picked up the bell from his night table and rang it. A maid appeared soon after and was dispatched to the kitchens.

“You look sad, my dear.”

“I am irritated with Leopold,” she replied softly.

“When is that not the case?” he asked, shaking his head.

She couldn’t help but smile. “True.”

“It’s because you are more alike than you will admit.” He raised a hand when she protested. “You are both perfectionists. Both convinced you are always right and know what is best for others.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pfft.”

“You get those traits from your mother.”

They both laughed until they couldn’t breathe. The tray arrived with only broth and tea.

Her father accepted the tray on his lap with a frown. “I should be glad there isn’t barley water as well.”

When the maid had departed, Louisa said, “I will go downstairs and pilfer something more filling from the kitchen.”

“Before you go, was there something else you wanted to speak with me about?” Her father lifted a spoon of broth to his mouth and drank it.

“I care for someone.” She paused. “But he is beyond my reach.”

“Is he married? Betrothed? Heaven forbid a cit?”

She shook her head. “He is a viscount and unmarried.”

“Then not truly out of your reach. Louisa, if this man will make you happy, then I’m sure you will find a way to marry him.”

“Father...”

He raised his hand again. “No. It is as simple as that. If it is a love match you seek, that could be a further difficulty, but if the man is unattached, there is always hope.”

A love match with Lord Wycliffe? At that moment, she realized she would accept no less whomever she married. She couldn’t help but feel better. Her father’s no-nonsense approach to her problem lifted her spirits.

“Now hurry downstairs and bring me some meat and cheese before I perish from hunger.”

Louisa stood up and leaned in to kiss her father on the cheek. “Yes, Father. I’ll return soon.”