ELLA PUSHED HERdisappointment aside. She and Gabriel had been having the conversation she’d been longing for since the day he left Keatley Hall. The alluring sensation of his hand holding hers eclipsed every other thought, and his affectionate words teased her senses.
She’d have to wait for another time to finish that conversation, though, for the stark reality of responsibility beckoned. She had joined Gabriel in this venture and committed to it.
There would be time—she hoped—for more tender moments soon.
Twilight was falling over London’s streets as Ella and Gabriel made their way to the Clancy Assembly Rooms. She had no idea what to expect with this visit. All she knew was that Gabriel was giving her a glimpse into his world, his livelihood.
As they stepped into the very masculine world of Mr. Clancy’s study, however, Ella’s confidence faltered.
Dark crimson paper hung on the walls, and the distinct scents of linseed oil and tobacco blurred with the fire’s smoke. Elegant chandeliers boasting an absurd number of candles hung from thehigh ceiling. Large, intricately carved chairs flanked a sturdy mahogany desk. As for Mr. Clancy, his auburn hair curled with incredible precision, and a wrinkle didn’t dare mar his ensemble of elegant wool. A silky snow-white cravat gleamed at his throat, and gold threads woven into his damask waistcoat caught the light.
Gabriel, obviously accustomed to the surroundings, seemed quite at home as he motioned for Ella to be seated in one of the wingback chairs before he sat.
“So, Clancy, we’re here as requested,” Gabriel announced casually. “Are you going to tell us? Who is this mystery guest?”
Mr. Clancy rubbed his hands together, as if preparing to divulge a very great secret. “As you are well aware, I’ve an extensive network of colleagues, both friends and foes, if truth be told. You’ve assisted me on many occasions, for which I am grateful and, might I add, richer because of it. That being said, when you informed me of your search for Mr. Thomas Bauer, I called in a favor. Before I share my findings, though, I need to have your words, as a gentleman and as a lady, that what is said here andwhoyou see here is confidential.”
“You have my word,” agreed Gabriel.
“And mine,” added Ella.
“Good.” Clancy stood from his chair and disappeared to the antechamber. When he returned, Mr. Gutt was at his side.
Ella held her breath as shock and anger rippled through her. She felt she would be sick. She dared not look toward Gabriel.
How dare he!
Mr. Gutt’s light hair, which had always been tidy and combed, was dirty and wild. Smudges and soot covered his coat. A red cravat was about his throat.
She finally flicked her gaze to Gabriel. Whereas she felt ready to erupt with anger, he appeared aloof and calm. When he didspeak, his eyes did not leave Mr. Gutt. “As usual, Clancy, you never fail to surprise.”
Clancy sat in his chair as calmly as if it were a pleasant parlor visit. “This was no small undertaking, I assure you. He’s departing for America in the morning. I told him that if he shares what he knows with you, I’ll personally guarantee he’ll not be apprehended.”
Ella pressed her lips together to prevent a protest from slipping. Why would they agree to allow him to flee the country after what he’d done? Was there to be no justice for the role he had played?
“So I ask,” prodded Mr. Clancy, “do you both agree with this arrangement?”
Gabriel nodded.
Ella begrudgingly followed suit. “Yes.”
“So.” Gabriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you have to tell us?”
“About Timothy Grenshaw?” Mr. Gutt’s brow rose.
The familiar moniker struck her—it was the name from the letter.
“Are you surprised to learn his true name?” Mr. Gutt shifted. “I began working for him a year ago. He told me he was Thomas Bauer. He was having trouble getting people to attend his demonstrations, so about five months ago he instructed me to find out information from the servants of where he would perform demonstrations. At first I obliged, but when it became a pattern, I confronted him. He said if I told anyone, he would insist that I’d acted on my own.”
Ella could no longer keep quiet. “And Miss Sutton? How is she a part of this?”
“Her name’s not Miss Sutton,” he scoffed with an increduloussmirk. “It’s Elizabeth Grenshaw. She’s his younger sister. Did you not see the resemblance?”
Ella mapped the similarities in their appearances—they were both uncommonly tall. Dark hair and eyes. Pale skin. How had she not seen it?
Gabriel’s tone remained flat. “How did you come to know this?” Mr. Gutt cleared his throat and wiped his palm on his coat. “Just before the symposium I overheard them talking about their mother. When Grenshaw realized I knew the truth, he told me that if I kept their secret, he’d pay me handsomely from the collection they were planning to take. So I stayed quiet.”
Gabriel finally spoke. “How did you and Clancy connect? How did you know he wouldn’t turn you over to the authorities?”
