“And my father?”
“He’s now residing in Highcrest Vale, beneath the Argent Peaks.”
Lucas sighed. “He always had a soft spot for that place. He said he met Mama there, but I still think there was more to that story than we’ll ever know. Anyway, I’m sure news of my return will percolate through the lower levels, Edgar. I will pen a note to my brother, however. If I might prevail upon you to ensure he receives it?”
“You could use the PCE, you know.”
“I could,” agreed Lucas. “But I’ve never really trusted that system. In my line of work, one can never be too cautious.”
“I see.”
“No you don’t,” chuckled Lucas. “But that’s of no matter. Today I must send one or two messages elsewhere, Edgar, so you might ask the messenger service to stand ready. I assume we use the same one?”
“Indeed yes. The Ashcombe family has been, and still is, a valued client of Brasswing Couriers, and prides itself on several generations of association.”
“I’ll wager Brasswing’s not too unhappy about that arrangement, either.”
Edgar shot him a pointed look. “As you say, sir.”
“My bags...they arrived?”
“Indeed, sir. I took the liberty of unpacking and pressing some of your garments. You will find them in the dressing room.” He waved a wing toward a door off the bedroom.
“Excellent.” Lucas rose from the table and stretched. “Today, the adventure begins, Edgar.”
“And what adventure would that be, Mr Lucas?”
“I am hunting for crumbs, my lad. A specific kind of crumb. And to find it I have to talk to the right people.”
“Er...very well, sir...”
Strolling to the window, Lucas looked out at Arcvale, finding it unchanged overall, even though nearly a decade had passed. “Still so familiar,” he murmured to himself.
Then he turned to his tickerkin. “Edgar, I shall be attending an event this evening at Pembroke Hill. There will be someone there with whom I must speak, and I believe he will be expecting me. Can you polish up my clothing enough to make me respectable? I’ll be going to the...” He frowned. “What the devil was it again? Oh yes...the Yardley Memorial Evening. Whatever that might be.”
“I believe it is a charitable event, Mr Lucas. Dinner and some informal dancing. Something about renovating the old Yardley House, so that it can serve as a recuperative centre for orphans. A worthy cause.”
“If Yardley House is anywhere near the monstrosity in disrepair I remember, there had better be a considerable number of wealthy donors in attendance.”
“I believe some work has already been accomplished. Lady Yardley has been most diligent in her efforts toward bettering life for Arcvale orphans.”
“That’s nice.” Lucas shrugged it aside. “After I’ve dressed, I’m going to the study.”
“In anticipation of your intent, sir, I opened it up last night. It is ready for you.”
“I’ll say it again, Edgar, you are a complete mechanical marvel, and I cannot imagine what I’d do without you.”
Edgar managed not to roll his red eyes. “You are too generous, Mr Lucas. But then again,Ican’t imagine what you’d do without me, either, sir.”
*~~*~~*
“Now, are you sure you have everything, my Lady?”
Verity sighed. “For the umpteenth time, Sprocket, yes. I really do have everything. Perhaps even a little more of everything, since I could swear I saw you tuck a vial of perfume into my reticule when I wasn’t looking.”
“Never hurts to be prepared, my Lady. If you must wear that dull grey gown, at least you’ll smell good.”
“And that will, I’m sure, encourage people to contribute to my cause,” she replied, with a grin. “Never mind. You’re taking excellent care of me as always, and I appreciate it.”
