Charlotte refrained from asking how they should proceed if things didn’t go as expected. Her own misgivings had cast enough of a shadow over the mission. However vaporous, she could feel its bone-deep chill dogging their steps.
Wrexford gave a gruff assent as they passed through the opening in the yew hedge. Taking Charlotte’s arm, he slowed his steps, allowing their companions to forge ahead as they crossed through a garden of late-bloomingHelleborus orientalis.
“Good day, Mr. Tyler,” called one of the gardeners. “And to you, Master Sloane. How nice to see such enthusiasm for plants in a young man of your age.”
The valet returned the greeting with a cheery wave. “Indeed, it’s never too early to start learning about the world around us.”
“Aye. But even here in the gardens, where light and beauty abound, there are lessons about life that are perhaps best left until the lad is older,” came the reply.
“A sage observation, Mr. Gage,” replied Tyler. “I shall keep it in mind.”
The well-tended footpath curled around the main section of the conservatory and then forked as it came to a majestic sessile oak.
“Good luck,” murmured Charlotte, once she and the earl reached the spot where Tyler and Hawk were waiting.
“It won’t be long now,” assured Tyler. After snapping a jaunty salute, he and the boy set off.
Wrexford hesitated a moment, scanning the surroundings before heading in the other direction. They walked in silence, the rippling of the long grasses and a few faint birdsongs the only sounds fluttering around them.
Such a peaceful setting . . . and so at odds with the emotions roiling inside her.
“I’m sorry, Wrexford,” said Charlotte, turning abruptly as the wing housing the lecture hall and study room came into view. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m not usually so pessimistic.” The cloudless sky and golden light of the setting sun made her feel even more ridiculous. “Thank you for ignoring my mood and pressing on with such resolve.” She forced a self-mocking smile. “You may tease me unmercifully about it on the way home.”
“It’s tempting, as you are so rarely wrong,” he answered. “But I shall refrain from lording it over you. In truth, I think all of us shall feel nothing but relief when this sordid business is behind us.”
“You truly think Daggett will cut his losses and abandon his plan to steal Becton’s discovery?”
“I do, my love,” answered the earl. “He’s vicious and unprincipled—but he’s also clever and pragmatic. Once the plant is in the hands of the Royal Society, his chances of stealing it are virtually nil, and I don’t think he would dare risk it. The government has turned a blind eye on the murder of two unsavory gentlemen, but an assault on the most august scientific institution in Britain would force them to act.”
Charlotte suddenly felt as if a leaden weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you. I don’t always fully appreciate your clear-eyed logic, but in this case, I’m exceedingly grateful for it.”
Wrexford chuckled. “You see what a perfect pair we make. Given our often opposing ways of solving a problem, one of us is bound to be right.”
She tightened her hold on his arm. His sense of humor was yet another thing she loved about him. Without laughter to counter the injustices and absurdities of the world, life could so easily crush one’s spirit.
They resumed walking, and after winding through a small stand of beech trees, they entered the building.
A series of connected display galleries featured an impressive array of plants, rare manuscripts, and colorful botanical paintings, chosen to complement the upcoming lectures. There were only a few other scholars perusing the collections, as the lecture wasn’t scheduled to start until six o’clock. Charlotte found that the artwork, with its meticulous details and luminous colors, helped distract her from counting every second that ticked by.
The earl was greeted by several fellow members and traded the requisite pleasantries before escorting her into the adjoining gallery.
She quelled the urge to sneak a peek toward the next one.Let us keep moving!Surely, more than ten minutes had passed . . .
Finally Wrexford drew her through the archway leading into the last of the gallery spaces, and sure enough, there was the corridor connecting it to the Orangery. The earl paused at a glass case near the opening and pretended to be reading the set of manuscript pages on display.
Forcing her gaze downward, Charlotte tried to make herself focus on the spidery script. But the words were naught but a blur.
Another moment ticked by . . .
Then another.
“What do you think is keeping him?” she whispered. A ridiculous question, she knew, and yet she couldn’t keep from voicing it.
The earl didn’t answer right away. Shifting his stance, he stared into the shadows within shadows of corridor, watching for any sign of movement.
The stillness seemed to amplify the thrum of tension in the air.
“Tyler knows to err on the side of caution.” Wrexford turned his attention back to the manuscript pages. “There were likely people around the storage room and he decided to delay his entrance.” A pause. “Let us give him a little more time.”
