While he waited, Reed had ample time to ponder the odd turn of events, as he couldn’t make sense of it. Where could Lucypossibly have gone, and why would she have taken her clothes, perfume, and jewelry with her?
With the precision Reed had come to expect from ever-efficient Taylor, the butler arrived at the front door in time to open it just as the carriage came to a stop in front of the house.
“What instructions do you wish me to convey to John Coachman, Mr. Stanthorpe?”
“Ask him to take me to the same destination he took Mrs. Stanthorpe earlier today.”
“Very good, sir.”
Reed settled into the carriage, his curiosity growing by leaps and bounds. He couldn’t make heads nor tails of Lucy’s departure, especially with her belongings missing, but felt certain the mystery would be clear soon enough.
The carriage wheels rolled over the cobbled streets, keeping to the finer areas of Town. At least Lucy hadn’t wandered into dangerous corners. He recognized the house where the carriage at last stopped.
Why would Lucy bring all her belongings to her parents’ home?
Reed climbed out of the carriage and made his way to the door. A moment later, the very proper butler welcomed him inside. As a member of the family, Reed wouldn’t be required to stand on ceremony the way a visitor would.
“Good afternoon, Graves.” Reed gave the butler a quick nod of acknowledgment.
“If you would, sir, your calling card.” Graves held his hand out, his bearing as haughty as any proper butler’s ought to be, but with the smallest hint of apology in his eyes.
Reed didn’t immediately comply. He was family. Family didn’t generally present their cards when visiting. But Graves didn’t give over.
Perhaps old Graves is beginning to lose hold of his faculties.
Reed pulled his card case from his jacket pocket and took one out. He handed it to the butler, unsure what to expect. The butler dipped his head and disappeared up the stairs.
Poor man must be feeling off today. He left me waiting here as though I were a presumptuous mushroom rather than a member of the family.
The grandfather clock near the door loudly counted off the seconds as Reed stood in solitary silence. Even if Lucy had left already, Reed’s parents-in-law should have welcomed him in with none of the formality generally required of a caller.
Lucy’s mother appeared at the top of the stairs. “Mr. Stanthorpe. What a pleasure to see you again.”
She didn’t come toward the entry way, but stood looking down on him, her bearing regal and unfailingly polite. And she’d called him “Mr. Stanthorpe,” a formality they’d done away with not long after he’d married her daughter.
“Mother Harris,” he greeted, trying to clamp down his growing confusion. “I had hoped to speak with Lucy. I understood she was here.”
She gave him a patient smile. “Now, now, Mr. Stanthorpe. Our at-home day is Friday. Today, as you must know, is Thursday.”
What the deuce did their at-home hours have to do with the matter? He’d come for his wife. He wasn’t some hapless suitor or socially inept neighbor.
“Do come by tomorrow during our at-home,” Mrs. Harris said. She gave him a quick smile and turned about, walking away with no further explanation.
What the blazes was that about?A few of his cronies had spoken of their mothers-in-law in terms one generally reserved for rabid and difficult dogs, but Reed had never seen Mother Harris act the part of a dragon. She’d always been kind and affectionate toward him.
“Psst.”
Reed glanced about but couldn’t identify the source.
“Psssst.” The sound was louder, more urgent than before. “Reed, my boy. Up here.”
He followed the voice and spotted his father-in-law on the first-floor landing above. Mr. Harris waved him up.
“Quickly, son, before the ladies spot you.”
Reed heard in Mr. Harris’s voice the promise of an explanation and didn’t hesitate. He took the stairs two at a time then followed Mr. Harris down the corridor. He’d never before thought of his father-in-law as spry, but the gentleman was making short work of their journey.
Mr. Harris pulled open the door to his book room, a room Reed had been in more than once. “Inside. I don’t think they’ve seen you.”
