Page 45 of The Wordsworth Key (Regency Secrets #3)

‘The gunpowder manufactory? You’re right.’ He framed her face and kissed her. ‘We mustn’t narrow our focus on Knotte when we have other suspects. Thank you for giving me a decent reason for doing what I don’t want to do. It will save me an argument later.’

She smiled prettily at him. ‘If you are feeling grateful, then please take Alex with you. I don’t think any of us should be alone and I’d be happier if I know you have his escort.’

‘And what will you be doing?’ He’d been counting on leaving Alex at the cottage to make sure the ladies were safe.

‘I’ll stay here with Ruby and make notes on what we’ve learned and write some letters to London. I want to find out if Knotte went to see any publishers in July.’

‘That sounds a good plan. I’ll send a message to Moss, get word of Wright and suggest Moss meets us here this afternoon. It’s possible he might already know who was in London at the same time as the attack on Leyburn.’

‘True, but don’t you want to check on Wright yourself?’

‘They’ll send for me if there’s any change. Promise you’ll stay inside– and don’t let anyone else in?’

She went up on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I promise.’

‘Aw. I suppose you two are quite sweet, in your own way,’ said Ruby. ‘A little bit more luxury, Dr Sandys, and this might be an arrangement Dora can be proud of.’

* * *

Elleray was a once humble house on the banks of Windermere that had been renovated out of all recognition into a gentleman’s residence– walls punched out, bay windows built, views cut through the trees to ensure the best vista onto the lake.

Jacob saw it as evidence of the fad for English tourism, a relatively novel idea; this area had been dismissed for centuries as a backwater, a place to raise sheep and survive; now it had become fashionably sublime.

The owner enjoyed hosting his friends– and impressing them with the level of comfort he had achieved.

Jacob thought wryly of Ruby’s comment about luxury as the maid took their hats and walked them towards the morning room.

While he employed a local woman to clean and do the laundry twice a week, maybe he should engage a live-in maid?

‘Is the gentleman going in with you, Dr Sandys?’ the maid asked at the door.

No servant, he didn’t want the interference.

‘He is,’ confirmed Jacob.

‘He could wait in the library if he prefers,’ she tried again. ‘It’s only across the passage here.’

‘No, he is coming with me.’

With a sour expression, she stood back. ‘Follow me then, gentlemen.’

Lady Alice was seated at a pianoforte on her own, framed by the window and the lake beyond, a portrait pose that reminded him of Vermeer.

She was playing a delicate piece that tripped up and down the scales, clever and winding.

It was familiar, probably Bach, but Jacob wasn’t an afficionado of music.

‘Dr Sandys and Mr Smith,’ said the maid.

The lady stopped playing and got up to bob a curtsey in answer to their bows.

‘I didn’t expect you to bring a guest,’ she said, then blushed.

Ah, so this scene had been orchestrated so that he might come upon her on her own. Someone was trying to cook up a romance. The maid was in on it, but he suspected more hands were stirring this particular broth.

‘This is Alexander Smith, a good friend and one of our employees at the agency,’ said Jacob unapologetically. ‘Smith, this is Lady Alice Furness.’

Alex gave another bow, his manners impeccable. As a golden-haired Adonis he had been a great favourite in society until very recently and he knew how to charm his company. ‘You play the piano beautifully, Lady Alice. Bach, “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring”?’

She smiled at him and waved away the compliment. ‘I’m barely proficient but thank you for the unwarranted praise. And yes– a lovely piece, isn’t it? Tea?’

‘Thank you,’ said Jacob. ‘Is my brother here? He sent for me.’

‘He is.’ Lady Alice signalled to the waiting maid to send in the tea tray and then gestured to the visitors to take seats. They waited for her to sit before taking their places. ‘He stayed with us last night. He and my father sat up long into the small hours.’

‘Scheming?’ asked Jacob.

‘What else? They’ll be in presently. How is your investigation going?’

‘We’re making progress. We found the missing manuscript and it has been returned to its owner.’

‘So that concludes your business here?’ she asked hopefully.

‘There’s another matter that now requires our attention, but I don’t want to bore you with the details. Did you enjoy our excursion to the fort? I was telling Smith how you and Miss Fitz-Pennington rode like Furies up the road, scattering the rest of us in your wake.’

‘Furies?’ She pursed her mouth into a little moue of disapproval. ‘That’s not very flattering, Dr Sandys. They were ugly spirits of vengeance hounding poor Orestes, were they not?’

Jacob grimaced. ‘I see that social small talk is not my forte. I apologise. You both looked marvellous.’

She chuckled. ‘Why thank you. I will accept that compliment.’

‘I understand that you already knew one of the party– a Mr Langhorne. His father works for yours, I believe?’

‘That is so. I hope you’re not jealous? There’s no need to be.

’ Her tone was arch, but he resisted the opening for flirting.

The tea tray came in, carried by a footman.

It was loaded with muffins and cakes as well as a teapot and crockery.

Lady Alice poured for her guests with the ease of practice as a society hostess.

The footman handed the cups round. ‘How well do you know Mr Langhorne, Dr Sandys?’

‘Not well, but enough to understand that he aspires to be a writer and admires Mr Wordsworth.’

‘Mr Wordsworth is an interesting poet, is he not? I confess that I find many of his poems vulgar and even alarming– and then he can hit a note of sublimity that makes me forgive all his flaws.’

‘I agree with you, Lady Alice,’ said Alex. ‘He is somewhat uneven in what he produces.’

Lady Alice seemed annoyed at the reminder that he was present but remembered herself in time to give Alex a gentle smile. ‘Quite so.’

‘Has Mr Langhorne shown you any of his verse?’ asked Jacob, trying to nudge them back onto the topic which interested him most.

‘Sadly yes. I fear he has formed an attachment to me, which is not returned– a most unsuitable match. My father would never approve. It did provoke Mr Langhorne to putting his feelings into poetry. It was a very uneven production– embarrassingly bad. I’m gently trying to let him down.’

‘That sounds wise,’ said Jacob. ‘Spurned lovers can be driven to do rash things. I wouldn’t be on your own with him if it can be avoided.’

‘Of course not. It wouldn’t be decent either,’ she added.

And yet the household had attempted to bring Jacob into the room alone with her against the rules of propriety.

What was going on? Was someone trying to force an impropriety which would shackle him to her?

Never had he felt so grateful to Dora for insisting on Alex’s escort.

The threat had been quite different from the one they had imagined.

‘And what is his father like?’ asked Jacob.

‘Dear Mr Langhorne. I’m afraid he knows his chemistry but made a muddle of his finances, and my father had to rescue his manufactory.

It goes quite well in the Furness business interests, Father said, as gunpowder requires special shipping arrangements– a premium government contract.

Not that I know anything about that, of course. ’

‘Of course.’ He shared a smile with her, both tacitly acknowledging the stupidity that society would have elegant ladies to be ignorant of anything outside the domestic sphere.

‘And General Wellington’s new push in the Peninsula campaign is bringing in much welcome business. Father has promised us all very generous dowries.’

Alex looked interested in that comment. ‘How many sisters do you have, Lady Alice?’

‘Oh, you!’ She laughed as if she suspected him of making a joke. Jacob had reason to know that Alex would not mind marriage to an heiress could he find one who accepted him as he was, which was a tall order admittedly, what with the Hellfire scandal, his proclivities and the lack of prospects.

Still, he was handsome. That counted for a lot and might be enough for a younger daughter.

It was at that juncture that Jacob’s brother deigned to make his entrance, swaggering and spruce in his black morning coat and crisp white linen.

‘Ah, Jacob, you came. Good.’ He did a doubletake when he saw Alex. ‘And this is?’

Smith stood up and bowed.

‘Alexander Smith, formerly of the 1st Battalion 2nd Foot Guard,’ said Jacob. ‘He now works for Miss Fitz-Pennington and me.’

‘Good God, you bring that man here!’ The viscount had clearly done his research into Jacob’s life and knew exactly who Alex Smith was. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’

‘I have not. You might recall that you were the one who invited me to come.’

‘Alone, Jacob, alone!’

‘Then you should’ve said, but if so, I would not have been able to attend you.

Are you not aware that there is a dangerous person at large in the vicinity?

Only yesterday a young man was attacked in Grasmere.

My business partner insisted I bring someone to watch my back.

’ He shot a look at Lady Alice, who was listening wide-eyed.

‘But perhaps we should take this conversation outside?’

‘Who was attacked? Not Mr Langhorne?’ she asked. ‘Was that why you were asking about him?’

‘No, my lady. It was one of his friends– a Mr Wright.’

‘Which one was he?’ She wrinkled her brow, trying to recall the men from the expedition to the Roman fort. ‘Not the dark-haired fellow, Mr Moss, or the officers– one of the others.’

‘He has light brown hair and comes from Colebrookdale.’

‘Then not the shepherd poet– because he is fair like Mr Smith here, and from these parts.’ She nodded as if in understanding. ‘Does the unfortunate man need anything? Can we send a basket?’