Page 28 of The Honorable Rogue (The Notorious Nightingales #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

C ollecting the Russian book that he’d put on the nightstand, Charles stopped and stared at the pile of books still sitting there.

Dear Christ!

Running from the room, he took the stairs down far too fast and burst into the parlor, where the family was all seated discussing the Pavlov fortune and what should be their next steps.

“What?” Mungo demanded. He was standing in his usual position beside the door in case an enemy entered and he needed to protect everyone.

The man was the grumpiest person he knew beside Clemmie but with the softest heart.

“Mungo!”

“Yes, Anna?” He was far gentler with the children.

“I have broken this.” She held up a small wooden hand mirror that Ellen had given her.

“I will fix it. Put it beside the stairs.”

She crooked her finger at him, and Mungo bent and allowed her to kiss his cheek .

“You were about to tell us why you burst into the room that way,” Bram said, drawing his eyes from the touching little scene.

“Right. The night we rescued the Acton twins, I went to my room to wash when we returned. I noticed the books on my nightstand had fallen on the floor and wondered if the children had been in there looking for something.”

“But now you don’t believe that?” Bram asked with a raised brow.

“What if someone slipped in here unnoticed and searched my room for this book?”

“How do you believe it possible anyone could slip into this house unnoticed?” Alex asked. “Further to that, how would anyone know which is Charles’s room?”

He hadn’t thought of that, and it made him feel slightly better, but not a lot.

“I need to apologize to you all,” he said, meeting the eyes of everyone in there. Ellen sat on the floor with Alice, her daughter. Next to her was Theo. The two expectant mothers sat on the sofa. “I have brought danger into this family, and for that, I am sorry.”

“Charles, Charles, Charles,” Alex said. “We’ve been run out of society. A gang kidnapped Gray, and then there was my wife’s small drama involving murder and theft. Oh yes, and let us not forget what happened with Ram and the doctor who was at his birth.”

“I understand all that, but nothing came here. If someone broke in?—”

“Which we’ve already established is highly unlikely,” Cyn cut in.

“Hello,” Gray said from behind him. “Move it, Charles. I have news.”

He stepped to the side, which put him next to Mungo.

“Don’t be daft and think we’re not helping you because we’re afeared of anyone touching us or ours. No one ever will,” he said with a fierce frown. “Now you’re one of us, so talk no more nonsense.”

A little choked up over that, Charles nodded at Mungo.

“What news do you have, Gray?” Ellen said. Alice got off her mother’s lap and raised her arms to her father, who instantly picked her up.

“I have the name of one of Pavlov’s lawyers. I spoke to the oldest member of Scotland Yard today, and he’s a crotchety old bugger?—”

“Which you already are, so you could speak on his level,” Alex said.

Gray just rolled his eyes before continuing. “I asked if he knew anything about the Pavlov fortune. His father was a lawyer, and he knew Mr. Timothy, who was one of Pavlov’s lawyers. They used to have a drink together every Friday evening and discuss cases,” Gray said.

“Well done, Gray,” Leo said. “Do you have an address?”

“I do.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Alex said.

“We can’t all go,” Gray said. “Apparently the man’s a hermit now and never leaves his house. We want him to talk to us, and if we all appear, that is unlikely. Unfortunately, he is of the old guard who think a woman’s place is?—”

“And again we must not join in the fun,” Cyn said.

“All right, you men go, and we will continue to take notes and discuss the entire business,” Ellen said. “But we want apricotines and some of those tiny finger biscuits. Theo will stay and get them for us.”

“Ooh yes, and that fruitcake,” Harriet added. “Plus, Theo can go into Nicholson’s and check that they have no Russian books.”

“Good Lord, I believe you’re right, my love. It’s at the end of the close and we’ve not even thought about going in there,” Alex said. “Buy all the apricotines because I’m sure we’ll need nourishment upon our return.”

“Right. Well then,” Leo said. “Let’s make haste so we can be back for when the angry lord and his sister arrive.”

“I’m sure he was only looking out for his sister, considering what happened and what lies between her and Charles,” Flora said.

“What?” Charles looked at his sister.

“Oh please, it is obvious you think Miss Althorp?—”

“Do not continue that sentence,” Charles thundered.

“It’s nice when someone other than me and my siblings argue,” Ellen said. “But perhaps now is not the time for this, Flora. We need to ensure Charles and Miss Althorp remain unharmed before they can explore what is between them.”

“Nothing is between us,” Charles gritted out. “She was engaged. He passed away, and she will love no other.”

“Rubbish. I see the way she looks at you,” Ram protested. “While that is very sad and she has my sympathies, Miss Althorp did not look at you as a friend would.”

Charles tamped down the joy that surged through him at those words.

“He’s very likely in love and can’t think straight,” Alex added. “Come along, there is time for this after.”

“We are not discussing this again,” Charles added with little hope anyone in the room would listen.

Those going rose while those staying remained seated, and Charles fought the emotion that bloomed inside him at the thought of Violet feeling something for him. Love? Surely he was not there yet? But this fierce desperation to keep her safe, and the feelings she aroused in him when he’d kissed and touched her told him the truth.

Bloody hell.

“Plenty of time to formulate an attack for you to gain your fair lady’s love,” Ram told Charles, slapping him on the back. “Come along, Theo. We shall let Bram, Leo, Alex, and Charles deal with this, and we shall procure the ladies apricotines.”

“And go into Nicholson’s!” someone shouted from behind them.

“You’ve already said that!” Theo roared back.

“It’s like the gravity of the situation is lost on everyone,” Charles muttered, slapping the hat he’d pulled off the peg beside the door onto his head. “Yesterday, we were nearly abducted and then chased through London.”

“No one has forgotten, and they are dealing with it in the only way they know how. We are not the type to fall about the place and weep and wail, Charles. Had you not arrived home and are now safe with us, things may have been different,” Leo said. “We are about to meet Mr. Timothy, who will hopefully shed further light on our investigations, so get yourself together.”

When the carriage arrived, Mungo was driving, and Charles noted that under his feet was a shotgun. Their eyes met briefly, and then a hand on his spine nudged him toward the carriage.

“Don’t dally in the open, Charles,” Leo said.

“This is Crabbett Close. No one can get in or out without being questioned or stopped by at least five people. Living here is safer than a jail cell,” Charles said. “Especially now that you have put out the word that someone is after me.”

“Get in the carriage, Charles,” Gray said, nudging him again.

He sat wedged between Leo and Alex, with Gray and Bram across from them.

“Mr. Timothy does not know we’re coming, Gray?”

“No. I did not send word. The man rarely speaks to anyone, so I thought it best to simply turn up. Then he will have less chance to turn us away. ”

“Which makes an odd kind of sense,” Charles said.

“We will behave like the gentlemen we were raised to be and not terrify the man,” Bram said.

“So, Miss Althorp,” Gray said when they’d left Crabbett Close.

“No.” Charles gave him a hard look.

“How long has her fiancé been dead?”

“I really don’t want to discuss this,” Charles said, feeling his necktie tighten.

“Oh please, when has that stopped anyone in this family,” Alex said.

Charles looked at the other men in the carriage; all were focused on him.

“A few years, I believe,” Charles conceded.

“We have all lost those we love, Charles, but it is how we live that honors them and that love. Perhaps it is up to you to point that out to her,” Bram said.

“Agree,” Gray added. “But right now we are turning into Tweed Street, where Mr. Timothy lives. We can discuss this further later.”

“Not bloody likely,” Charles said. But the words they’d spoken had made him think. Should he talk to her about how he felt? Charles thought the searing heat inside his chest whenever he thought about or saw her was his answer. He wanted Violet, and he needed to fight for her.

The carriage stopped before a row of brick terraced houses. A long black iron fence was in front of each, and they had a gate and narrow walkway up to the doors.

Gray led the way up to one, and knocked. They then stood back to wait.

“Good day,” a woman said when she opened the door.

“We are wishing to speak with Mr. Timothy if possible.” Gray handed over his card. “I am Detective Fletcher from Scotland Yard. ”

The woman studied all of them.

“Viscount Seddon, Mr. Nightingale, Mr. Alexander Nightingale, and Mr. Thomas,” Gray added.

“Mr. Timothy never accepts visitors,” she said.

“Please see if he will accept us,” Gray said. “It is of the utmost importance.”

“They always say that,” she said.

“Well then, try once more,” Gray added.

“Wait here.” The door was closed in Gray’s face.

“Do you think only one or two of us should have called?” Charles asked. “If the man is a recluse and doesn’t leave the house or have visitors?”

“It’s always handy to have the numbers to intimidate should they be required,” Gray said.

“Speaking from experience, of course,” Leo said.

“Of course. But if she says only one allowed in, then it shall be me,” Gray said.

Five minutes later, she was back. “Mr. Timothy will see you all now.”

They followed her down a narrow hallway. The inside was a dismal brown color and dark. After climbing a set of stairs they entered a room. A fire burned in the grate, and the drapes were closed to shut out any late afternoon light.

The heat settled around them like a heavy blanket, cloying and oppressive.

“Good day, Mr. Timothy,” Gray said, moving to the man seated in a chair before the fire. “Forgive the intrusion—I understand you dislike visitors. However, it is important.”

“You are the first people I have allowed in my house for some time, Detective Fletcher,” the man said. He was stoop shouldered and didn’t rise because it was clearly an effort to do so. “Before I retired, I spent a lot of time at Scotland Yard. Sergeant Dyson was a friend, you see, and he spoke highly of you when you first joined. ”

“Thank you. Coming from Sergeant Dyson, that was praise indeed,” Gray said solemnly.

“It is his praise of you, and my respect of him, that has you standing before me now.”

“I am extremely grateful,” Gray said.

“And you have brought illustrious company with you, I see.”

“We need your help, Mr. Timothy,” Gray said, getting to the point. “We would appreciate any information you can give us on the Pavlov fortune.”

The elderly man laughed and then coughed for several seconds, as it clearly cost him a great deal.

“Many people have approached my doorstep with questions about Pavlov’s fortune, and I have spoken not one word to any of them.”

“I found a book, sir.” Charles stepped forward. “In it was a note, and I believe it is a clue relating to the fortune that is yet to be found.”

Mr. Timothy’s body may be failing him, but his eyes were alert. They were now focused on Charles.

“I asked a friend to translate it, as the words were in Russian, which she did. Someone then overheard her discussing the details with a friend.”

“Not terribly wise,” Mr. Timothy said, still watching Charles closely.

“As it turned out, no, it wasn’t. I met her in the park yesterday, but someone else was there, and we were forced to flee for our lives.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Mr. Timothy said. “I doubt Mr. Pavlov thought about the consequences of his actions, which I’m afraid was often his way.”

“Finding that note was not something I ever wanted, but the consequences of doing so have proved dire for myself and my friend. I fear it will stay so until this business is at an end.”

“Perhaps it is time,” Mr. Timothy said, getting to his feet. It wasn’t easy, but he managed it by rocking several times. He waved away any attempts to help by Charles and Gray. Taking his cane, he then walked to where Bram, Leo, and Alex stood.

“I knew the late Lord Seddon and am sorry for what he did to you all. I was not his lawyer but knew a colleague who was, and he tried to advise his lordship against his investments. Unfortunately, he would not listen. To his regret, he wished he’d tried harder.”

“The fault lies solely with my brother, sir,” Bram said somberly. “But thank you for your words.”

Mr. Timothy nodded and then went to a large desk. He opened the heavy lid, staggered slightly, and then fell into the chair behind it.

They waited while he rummaged through the contents. Lifting them out, he lowered them to the floor. Charles helped, taking them from him and stacking them neatly. When he had removed everything, he pulled a piece of string from his pocket. Attached was a key.

“I have held these papers since the death of Mr. Pavlov, unsure of what to do with them.”

“And you trust us with them now?” Charles asked.

“I do. I have followed Detective Fletcher’s career closely, even though I rarely leave my house. He is a good and just man. I am also aware of what Mr. Bramstone Nightingale did for his family. Loyalty like that is not something many have.”

Charles stepped back, and Gray moved into his place after those words.

“I doubt you’ll find anything regarding the books, but this is all I have left from my dealings with him, and I’m glad to be rid of it now. ”

They watched him unlock the lower half of the desk and lift a panel. Beneath were papers. He sifted through those and then handed a roll bound with a ribbon to Gray.

“Many are after the fortune and will do whatever it takes to find it, including murder. Especially Mr. Pavlov’s mistress, who vowed revenge at the reading of the will when she did not inherit all his money and assets. She believed they should have gone to her son.”

“Has she come here to see you?”

“Of course. However, I didn’t allow her admittance into my house. She’s tried many times since, but as I do not leave here, she has failed to contact me.”

“Do you have her name, Mr. Timothy?” Gray asked.

“I believe she has changed it, but when she called to see me, she used Miss Bamber.”

Charles didn’t recognize the name, but then he did not know many people in society.

“We understand clues were hidden in books that led to the Pavlov fortune. Was there a list of these?” Gray asked. “Surely his staff would have known and gone looking for them?”

“No one knew that his will was changed before he died. Mr. Pavlov himself summoned me to his bedside and handed it directly to me with orders that I was to read it after he passed. He was extremely unwell but still lucid. He said he trusted me to see his wishes carried out.”

“What were the changes, exactly?” Gray asked.

“Other than his mistress and son, who received a substantial amount and a home, the rest of the inheritance would go to whomever solved the five clues he placed in the books. When he realized he was dying, he instructed someone to distribute his entire collection throughout England. When he did this, I don’t know. ”

Which would make it almost impossible now to find it, Charles thought.

“But how would people know about the fortune and the clues?” Bram asked.

“I was charged with putting a small article in the London Gazette ,” Mr. Timothy said. “I cut out the advertisement, and it is in there.” He pointed to the papers Gray held.

“I can never thank you enough for the honor of allowing me to have these papers you’ve held safe for so long. I promise they will never fall into the wrong hands,” Gray said.

“I’m unsure they will be of any use, but it is a relief to hand them over. My time is short, and I was concerned about who would get them. Now I can rest easy. Good day, gentlemen.” The man got to his feet and shuffled back to his chair and fell into it.

They filed silently from the room.