A poor excuse, and she knew it.
“I should go—”
“You and the earl concentrate on whatever conundrum you’re facing,” interrupted McClellan. “I’ll make sure Skinny comes to no grief.”
“Thank you,” she said, though guilt still prickled at her conscience.
As the maid slipped from the room without further comment, Charlotte remained staring down at her lap, where her hands had knotted together. When she finally looked up, she found the earl watching her, his expression creased in concern.
“You can’t save every homeless child in London, Lady Charlotte,” he said softly.
“I know that.” Their eyes met. “But they are our friends, Wrexford. I can’t—”
“Wecan’t,” he corrected. “And we won’t. I promise you that. But McClellan is right. We’ve got a daunting mystery to unravel that affects some of our other friends. Let us solve that one first while she keeps an eye on our raggle-taggle urchins.”
In the face of Wrexford’s steady calm, all her churning worries suddenly melted away.
I promise.Two simple words, and yet they resonated right down to the depth of her marrow. She knew that for all his faults, he would never break his pledge.
“Very well. Let’s get back to the question of what unholy mayhem is afoot.” She straightened her spine and smoothed out her skirts. “You were about to tell me there’s more to your tale than the illegal entry into Woodbridge’s townhouse.”
“Much more.” Wrexford proceeded to explain about Griffin’s visit, the new information about the murder victim’s connection to a private bank, and the surprising revelation of Sheffield and Cordelia’s business partnership.
“Ye gods,” she whispered. “I—”
“I haven’t yet finished,” he said quickly before she could go on. “During our search of Woodbridge’s townhouse, we discovered some drawings in Lady Cordelia’s study.” Pushing the tray and unfinished cups of tea to one side, the earl unfurled the roll of papers.
Charlotte took her time in looking through them. “It looks like the design for a . . . a machine of some sort,” she ventured once she was done.
“Yes,” agreed Wrexford. “As to what it’s for, Kit and I paid a visit earlier today to William Hedley, a scientific colleague at the Royal Institution whose specialty is engineering industrial innovations. He thinks there’s a possibility it’s meant to perform mathematical calculations.”
Charlotte was suddenly aware of a throbbing at the back of her skull. None of this was making any sense. “But why would Lady Cordelia want a machine to calculate numbers? She does them so easily in her head.”
Wrexford’s expression turned grim. “At this point, I’d rather not speculate. I do wonder, however, whether you’ve ever heard her express an interest in anything mechanical.”
“No, never,” replied Charlotte.
“I know she’s a member of a group of Bluestockings, who meet regularly to discuss intellectual topics. You’ve attended several of their soirees with Lady Peake. Have you ever heard any of the other ladies bring up the subject of mechanical innovation or the termautomata?”
“Again, no. However, I’m not privy to every conversation that goes on during those evenings.” She thought for a moment about what he had just said. “Doesn’tautomatarefer to a type of fancy mechanical toy?”
“Mr. Hedley would chide you for calling them that,” said Wrexford. “Granted, they are often constructed as entertainment for the wealthy. But advanced technical skills and innovative engineering are required to produce them. So, when I pressed Hedley on whether he knew any mathematician who also possessed mechanical expertise, he mentioned a reclusive Cambridge professor with a passion for automata.”
Charlotte edged forward on the sofa. “You think Lady Cordelia and her brother may have taken refuge with him?”
“It seems possible, and right now, it’s the only clue we have. I’ve asked Tyler to make some inquiries about the professor among certain friends of his. I should know more by tomorrow.” He slowly released his breath in a harried sigh. “In the meantime, I’m meeting with Sheffield tonight to discuss what was in the documents he found in Woodbridge’s desk.”
A pause. “And to hear his explanation of why he felt compelled to hide the fact that he’s involved in a business venture with Lady Cordelia.”
Charlotte didn’t blame him for sounding apprehensive. Much as she liked Cordelia, something about all of this felt wrong.
“I don’t claim to have any expertise in mathematics, but to me, nothing is adding up right,” she said. “And you’ve yet to hear what I’ve learned. You and the boys weren’t the only ones doing some nocturnal sleuthing last night.”
His expression turned even more troubled.
“I paid a visit to one of my sources around Queen’s Landing—”
A growl rumbled in Wrexford’s throat.
