Unless it happened to slip through her fingers and smash on the pavement.
A foul thought.The bird deserved a better fate.
The coachman hopped down from his perch and opened the carriage door.
Grasping her gift tightly, she carefully descended the iron steps. “Please tell His Lordship that I’ll be sending him a note about the afternoon shortly.”
“Very good, Mrs. Sloane.”
Once inside her house, Charlotte cocked an ear for any sign that Raven and Hawk had returned. For a long moment, she feared she was alone, which was not a good omen on how the lessons had gone. However, a reassuring clatter from above—Hawk took great delight in polishing the swords to a looking-glass brightness—told her they were up in their aerie.
But first things first. The dratted rooster was too fragile for boyish exuberance. Expelling a sigh, she turned into the parlor. For now, its loud colors would add a touch of whimsy to the quiet respectability of the furnishings.
“Like me, you are a square peg trying to fit in a round hole,” she murmured, placing it on the side table near the windows. Sunlight shimmered through the glass panes as the clouds shifted, warming the reds and cobalts to an even brighter blaze.
“Quite right—to the Devil with trying to conform to the dictates of good taste.” Charlotte tugged off her gloves and touched a finger to the beaky smile before turning and heading for the stairs.
The aerie door was open and a glance inside showed Raven was curled on his bed, engrossed in reading a book. Hawk had propped the swords up against the wall between the windows and was busy arranging a regiment of lead soldiers that Jeremy had left in the wooden storage trunks.
She knocked softly on the casement to catch their attention. “How did the lessons go?”
“Oiy!” Hawk scrambled to his feet, knocking his troops to flinders. “Mr. Linsley is a great gun! We’re going te study lots of wery interesting things, and we practiced our penmanship.” He hurried to his desk and fetched a piece of ruled foolscap for her to see. “Look!”
“Very handsome, indeed!”
“I’ll soon be able te help ye letter in yer drawings.”
“I daresay you’ll soon be creating your own satires,” she replied with a smile. Hawk had a lovely imagination, and shehad already noted his skill with a pencil. “Art is a very gentlemanly pursuit.”
Raven made a rude sound.
“A talent for sketching is much admired,” she assured his brother before shifting her gaze back to Raven. His nose was still buried in the book, which she hoped was a good sign.
“And how did you find Mr. Linsley?” she asked him.
“He likes mathematics,” came the reply. “And says numbers can be used to understand all sorts of interesting things—like how far a cannonball can fly and how ships can navigate by calculating the angle of the sun.”
“He gave Raven a book about numbers,” said Hawk.
“And you are enjoying it?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Raven finally looked up. “I am.”
Charlotte smiled, just enough to look pleased, but not interfering.
“Well, then, I won’t disturb your reading any longer.” She moved to the door. “But after supper might I ask you to run an errand for me? I need to send Lord Wrexford a note and it’s important he receives it this evening.”
“O’ course.” Raven’s eyes sharpened. “Book learning ain’t gonna turn us soft.”
“Isn’t,” she corrected. “You may stay tough as hobnails, and still speak like a proper gentleman.”
* * *
“Please tell me you’ve made some progress with the murders.” Sheffield entered the earl’s workroom and slouched into one of the armchairs with a disgruntled huff. “I’m bored. And as my pockets are to let, I’ve no way of entertaining myself.”
“Take up a hobby.” Wrexford looked up from trying to make any sense of the jumbled numbers he had found at Hollis’s quarters. Frustration had his temper on edge. He had still not managed to track down Henning, which along withHillhouse’s absence, had him feeling that he was simply spinning in circles.
“Reading, perhaps?” he added sarcastically. “The laws of probability would make an excellent subject to study.”
