The Tenet was comprised of two tiers of associates; guardians and general members. Once Langdon resigned his guardian status, he would continue his membership for the comradery the club afforded.
“Farnsworth will inherit his uncle’s estate.” Why the gentleman wasn’t called in to investigate was a curiosity unto itself.
“He has been attending to more important matters in the north,” Stanton said.
One part of the mystery was solved. There were disturbing reports from Scotland about a rogue band of aristocrats who were backing an insurrection against the government, hoping to dissolve the House of Commons and bring England back to a monarchial state. Their plans had little hope of success, but that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.
“He is back now. I ran into him at the club last night,” Langdon said. As a guardian, he had traveled the globe putting out fires caused by his peers. While guardians were often cloaked in anonymity—even with fellow members—he had worked with Farnsworth on a previous assignment regarding the man’s sister. Langdon shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with the recollections. If circumstances had been different, he might have courted the lady. She had married another man, and while he was still friends with the couple, her rejection stung.
“I am well aware of that. It changes nothing.” Stanton waved a dismissive hand and angled his head, studying the artwork. The natural light streaming through a high window touched on the silver in his dark hair. Langdon had been under his command for the past ten years, and Stanton never seemed to age. He looked tired and older than his forty-one years.
“So you’re just going to dismiss her concerns outright?” The fact that he clearly intended to staggered Langdon. There had to be something Stanton wasn’t telling him. Or covering up.
“I sent a man to investigate.” Stanton dabbed more paint onto the brush. Each jerky movement spoke of his agitation over the entire conversation. “He didn’t think there was enough evidence. Randell is a gentleman, after all. It will take more than a few unsubstantiated rumors to bring him before the courts.”
Langdon moved his palm to the back of his neck and rubbed the tense muscles. He had been reviewing the estate books the previous day—yet another pull on his already busy schedule—and he had developed a headache. “Isn’t that the purpose of the Tenet; to investigate crimes committed by our peers?”
“If the Home Office secretary thinks the only thing Randell is guilty of is poor judgment, then I have no choice except to let the matter drop. Now, enough of Mrs. Adare. There must be a reason you asked to meet with me.”
He had almost forgotten his reason for coming to the mansion. He left his townhouse that morning intending to resign from the Tenet. Ever since his father’s unexpected demise, the responsibility of running such a large estate weighed heavily on him. While he wanted nothing more than to go on a new adventure, he owed it to his family to take up his duties. It was time to leave his past life behind, but the memory of haunting green eyes begging for help made him swallow his words.
Although it was foolish, the situation made him uneasy. It was not like Stanton to ignore an accusation, even if his superiors ordered him otherwise. Something was amiss, and he was determined to find out what it was.
Chapter Three
Elizabeth exited an apothecary shop on Fleet Street, her spirits sinking further at the news she had received. She looked over at her servant, Gellman, and released a pent-up breath. “The herbs will not be available until tomorrow afternoon,” she said.
Frustration weighed heavily on her. After her disastrous meeting with Stanton and Langdon, she was ready to leave London behind. Her face burned with humiliation all over again. Langdon had tricked her most cruelly, yet she had a hard time forgetting the sparkle in those intriguing hazel eyes.
“What does that mean?” Gellman asked with more familiarity than was proper. Elizabeth was used to his forwardness. She had known him all her life. He was born at Waverley Park a week before her. His mother was her mother’s maid, and as children they were practically inseparable. Despite the difference in their stations, Elizabeth considered him her friend. It was by her insistence that he was given the job of stable master. Since Waverly Park had no horses, he’d been relegated to looking after the livestock.
“I will have to stay another day.” Elizabeth had hoped to leave early in the morning on the first mail coach. Alas, her plans would have to change. She walked down the street. Gellman fell into step behind her. She passed a series of brick businesses selling a variety of products and services but didn’t look, lest she be tempted. “You must return to the estate for the calving.”
“You can’t travel home by yourself,” Gellman said.
“I will be fine.” It warmed her to know that he cared about her welfare, but there was no help for it. Shoulders squared, she stepped over a pile of refuse. Out of necessity, she had been self-sufficient for most of her life. Her mother had died bearing a child when Elizabeth was young, and she’d never developed a relationship with her stepmother, who had died in childbirth. As a widow, she was afforded certain freedoms. Worrying her lip, she took out her map and stopped walking for a moment to scan the faded parchment. “I believe if we keep on this road, we will eventually be in Grosvenor Square.”
She was staying with her uncle, Robert Farnsworth, the Sixth Baron of Coburn, at her father’s insistence. The men were half-brothers on his mother’s side; her father being the older. Her father was bitterly jealous of his sibling, who was born into a titled family after her grandmother remarried. However, he had a soft spot for two people; his nephew, Anthony Farnsworth, and his manservant, Bradley. Farnsworth was his heir and he took great joy in reminding Elizabeth of the fact. Bradley rarely left her father’s side and in her eyes, he was much more dangerous than her cousin. He often lurked in the shadows, spying on the household and reported even the most minor infraction to her father, which often ended in trouble for Elizabeth.
A vendor hawking housewares shoved a cast iron pan in front of her and she shook her head after murmuring a polite, “No thank you.” to the man.
Had she not been strapped for cash, she would have gotten a room at the local inn. While she liked her aunt and uncle well enough, she and her cousin had butted heads over the years. He was not a bad sort, but he had inherited her home, thus she carried a touch of animosity towards him. Once he took over the estate, she would be homeless.
Gellman adjusted the large bundle of leather goods that he had slung over his shoulder. He was short, with a bulky chest, and strong. “I suggest we hail a hackney.”
