Page 24 of Lyon’s Obsession (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #91)

Lionel’s smile widened, but he did not say a word.

Alexander knew enough of the young man who had served with him long before Alexander claimed the earldom to know Lionel enjoyed leading Alexander on yet another adventure.

His friend crossed to the back of the mews and exited through a latched opening.

They did not exchange any words, for they each understood their roles in this venture.

Even so, Alexander had been surprised by the opening in the brick wall, for he had half expected some sort of hole in the ground, which an actual root cellar would assuredly be, but the entrance behind Lord Manning’s town house proved to be a sort of narrow gate house.

Two pillars marked the rear exit from Manning’s garden, but one of the pillars had a door and an opening partially hidden by a flowering bush.

“Ingenious,” Alexander whispered as he looked down into the dark cellar.

Lionel warned softly, “Step with care. The few stones in here are likely to be damp. We’ll light a candle below.”

Alexander nodded his understanding and motioned his friend to continue to lead.

Using his hands to reach for the wall, he edged into the blackness.

Just as his booted foot touched what was obviously earth, Lionel struck a flint some six or seven feet along the narrow passage to light a candle he carried.

“Don’t look like no root cellar I’ve ever seen,” Lionel observed. “’Pears to be some sort of means to deliver goods to these houses. Don’t be understandin’ the why and the wherefore, as no food stuffs be stored here.”

Alexander came abreast of his friend. “Likely food stored in such a place would not last long, for word would seep out on the street and the likes of you and me as we were hungry boys would have risked a journey to the great and wonderful outer rims of Mayfair in order to steal what we could to feed our families.”

“Likely be battles to rival those ye told me of ’tween the British and the Americans,” Lionel said as he lifted the candle higher so he might lead the way.

“Most assuredly,” Alexander responded in hushed tones, for this was like no other structure he had ever encountered. “I am assuming you’ve been here previously.”

“Just came along a short distance,” Lionel admitted. “Wanted to learn if there be a hiding place.”

“And is there?” Alexander asked.

“None I found,” Lionel shared.

“Wonderful.” Alexander murmured. “Then we should hustle along. Would not wish to encounter Honfleur on the marquis’s return to his home.”

Lionel presented Alexander with a half salute, all in good measure, before turning to lead the way, with Alexander staying close on his friend’s heels. The only words they exchanged were a recitation of the names of the households intersecting with this passage.

“Manning Hall,” Lionel whispered as he gestured to a thick door on the right-hand side of the tunnel-like passage.

Alexander eyed the door. He would like the opportunity to explore it closer, but Lionel had not slowed his progress, and Alexander had to lengthen his stride to remain in the weak ring of light from the candle.

“Westlake Manor.”

Alexander added the information to his growing curiosity regarding Honfleur, but he held his tongue.

There would be ample time to analyze what all he observed at a later hour.

It was bad enough he was going against Duncan’s specific orders not to take risks with Honfleur—not to jeopardize the government’s investigation.

Yet, try as he might to shake the feeling, Alexander could not resist the possibility Annalise was in danger.

He knew, without a doubt, he would not survive if he lost her again.

“Offeman House.”

“Brady Place.”

“Trippman Hall.”

Before Alexander knew what was what, they stood before a closed door, one resembling those found in the artwork of an expensive children’s book, the one which told of secret doors to a fairy land, like the book Alexander had dearly loved as a young boy.

It was the first book Lord Duncan had presented to Alexander.

The Scot had read it to him over and over again, until a young Alexander could recite the tale by heart.

Even now, he thought he could do so, although he doubted he might accomplish the task without a Scottish accent sneaking into the retelling.

“This one leads to Honfleur’s house,” Lionel said softly.

“Is it unlocked?” Alexander asked. The idea Annalise was on the other side of the door latched onto his heart and would not release it.

“Don’t matter,” Lionel warned. “No time to learn more this evening.”

Alexander reluctantly nodded his agreement. “Naturally, you are correct. We should hurry our return.”

Unaware of Alexander’s qualms over leaving Annalise behind again, Lionel set off the way they had come. With a heavy heart and a yearning for a different outcome, Alexander turned to follow.

They were nearing Trippman Hall’s area when they heard voices up ahead. “Shush,” Alexander warned as he caught Lionel’s arm to prevent his friend’s progress.

Lionel’s eyes grew large. He pointed to the door leading to Trippman’s home, but when Alexander attempted to turn the latch, it would not give. “Locked from the inside,” he breathed the words.

The sound of people talking carried to them.

“We must hide somewhere outside of Honfleur’s house or make it to the main street,” Lionel encouraged.

They turned without a question or a squawk of resistance, attempting to silence their steps as they hurried across the distance between Trippman’s property and the residence Honfleur had let for the Season.

Reaching the door, thankfully, this time, it turned. As they stepped through the opening, Lionel blew out the candle.

“The garden,” Alexander whispered. “Find some place to hide.”

His friend nodded and disappeared into the blackness.

Alexander turned to the left to conceal himself behind a large elm along the brick wall between the properties.

He had barely settled his breathing when the door to the unusual passageway opened.

He quickly sucked in another steadying breath and prayed the lantern Honfleur carried would not permit the light to create a shadow on the wall to indicate where Alexander crouched down to hide.

He was thankful for his forethought of donning the dark scarf, though.

Such would assist in disguising his presence, and so he glanced at his coat to know confidence none of his shirt showed.

“I do not wish to leave Audrey behind,” Lady Caroline declared, causing Alexander to strain to hear Honfleur’s response. The marquis and his daughter paused in the midst of the garden to continue their conversation.

“We will only be away from England for a matter of weeks. Perhaps less depending on my negotiations,” Lord Honfleur stated with a hard emphasis on assuaging his daughter’s qualms.

“Nevertheless, Audrey will think we mean to abandonnée her,” Lady Caroline argued. “You know such is Audrey’s la plus grande peur . To be left alone in the world.”

Alexander noted how Honfleur had abandoned his supposed French accent, using English exclusively, while Lady Caroline’s speech was peppered with French phrases.

Thankfully, Alexander had studied French in school and was more than a little proficient in the language.

Duncan had demanded Alexander’s proficiency.

“I will explain the necessity of Audrey remaining behind to my niece,” Honfleur assured.

“If you would permis it, I could stay…” Lady Caroline began another protest.

“You will do nothing of the sort. I will not have you so far from my side. We are family,” Honfleur declared.

“Audrey is famille assui ,” Lady Caroline protested, but her argument had lost its hopes of agreement.

“Perhaps Audrey requires a reminder of the meaning of ‘family,’” Honfleur surmised. “Remaining behind will provide your cousin time to reclaim her loyalty to those who have cared for her for more than a decade.”

“Audrey is as loyal as I,” Lady Caroline countered. “If you trusted her more… If you permitted Audrey to prove herself to you…”

“Enough!” Honfleur barked. From what Alexander could observe with only the limited moonlight to illuminate the scene, Lady Caroline dropped her chin in a submissive gesture.

“You and I will depart for France late Tuesday afternoon. Audrey will remain behind to know assurance Lord Amgen’s man of business does not remove us from the property. ”

Alexander wondered if Honfleur was behind in his payments to let the house.

He would have someone learn more of the agreement between Amgen and Honfleur.

It might also be a good idea to become more aware if there were additional debts among the merchants, tailors, and such.

Perhaps their investigation might discover something to use against the man.

Could Honfleur be returning to France to print more bank notes to cover his additional debts? ”

Honfleur continued, “Now, you are to bed. Keep in mind, I forbid you to speak of our plans with Audrey. Such is my domain.”

“Yes, Father,” Lady Caroline said obediently.

Honfleur caught his daughter’s arm. “Come along. It is late, and I have much of which I must attend on the morrow.”

Neither Alexander nor Lionel moved for a good quarter hour—not until the lights on the lower level were extinguished and those in the two windows on what would likely be the family wing appeared.

By shared, but silent, assent, they circled the house and exited through the open gate onto the street to turn and walk away from Amgen House for two streets before they spoke a word to each other.

“Promise me,” Lionel huffed, “either you or I will break Honfleur. I wish to view him with his eyes downcast in fear.”

“I will gladly allow you the pleasure, but if he harms Miss Moreau, I shan’t be responsible for the man’s health,” Alexander growled. He had forgotten everything but his sister.