“What is it?” Matthew asked.
“It is odd. It reminds me of rock carvings in Scotland that I used to play near as a boy.” Tavish clicked his tongue off the top of his mouth as he rubbed his thumb over the relief. “It wasn’t this image precisely but the style.”
“How old are these etchings?” Charlotte asked. “Are they from the Tudor era as well?”
Tavish chuckled and handed the choker to Matthew. “Much older, I am afraid. Ancient—perhaps even before Roman times.”
Charlotte suddenly straightened, her green eyes shining. “I know of someone who might be of assistance: Miss Georgina Harrington. We were debutantes together. She was fascinated with history—Roman, Norman, Anglo-Saxon. Why, I remember her trying to talk to Lord McAllister about some Pictish stones found on his land. He was so terribly bored, but I found her conversation fascinating.”
“Do you think she is trustworthy?” Matthew asked.
“I do. She hasn’t left her home in Essex for years, and she was the scholarly sort, hardly the kind to attract Hawley’s attentions. But it might be faster to ask her cousin, Mr. Percy Pendergrast,who is an antiquarian. He’s fast friends with Alexander and is often at the Black Sheep.”
Alexander cleared his throat. “I would write to Miss Georgina Harrington.”
“Why? Pendergrast seems like a good chap, and he’s not close with my older brothers.” Matthew studied Alexander closely. “Should I be more guarded around him?”
“Don’t worry. He’s not in league with Hawley.” Alexander waved his hand, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “It is just… well… write to Miss Harrington.”
“It has always struck me as odd that Mr. Pendergrast is an expert on ancient Roman relics. His interests have always been more of a sporting nature like Alexander’s.” Charlotte cocked her head.
“Do you think Miss Harrington is actually the one with the knowledge?” Sophia asked, leaning forward in interest.
“She would not be the first female intellectual to seek acceptance by pretending to be a male relative,” Hannah said.
“Aaaaand this is not the mystery we are here to solve.” Alexander clapped his hands together. “We should focus on devising a plan to unearth Hawley’s worst secrets.”
“Why don’t we convene a team to discuss strategy, just as Tavish and I do before a complicated rescue?” Matthew suggested.
“We could just discuss it now,” Hannah pointed out. “This is one of the safest places to talk.”
Matthew shook his head. “We need to involve more players. Except for Charlotte, none of us have access to Hawley’s elite circle. Some of his well-heeled cronies are friends with Lady Calliope’s half brother. Lady Calliope might have an idea of how we can learn more about Hawley. Then, of course, there’s George Belle and his invaluable system of carriages.”
“Alun Powys would be a good addition too,” Sophia added. “You and Tavish have not worked with him, but he has proved useful in some of our ventures. He also has a personal interest in your brother. One of Hawley’s mistresses who died in a suspicious fire was a performer at Alun’s playhouse. Alun also has connections with both hedonistic elites and lowborn criminals.”
Matthew turned to Charlotte. “Do you agree with this proposal?”
Despite her torn dress and simple coiffure, Charlotte looked absolutely radiant. She did not need perfection to shine but confidence alone.
“I do. Let’s reconvene at the Black Sheep after we’ve heard back from Miss Harrington,” Charlotte said, her voice resolute.
“Lottie requested that just the two of you ride in the second carriage.” Alexander spoke softly as he lightly grabbed Matthew’s arm. They were about to climb into Tavish’s coaches for the ride back to London.
Surprised, Matthew swung his body to study his best friend. “It isn’t proper.”
Alexander snorted. “Nothing has been proper since my sister decided to race through London after two ruffians. If the Wick cousins or Tavish are inclined to tell tales—which I doubt any of them are—Lottie’s reputation will already be ruined. A carriage ride hardly makes it worse.”
“But what if someone recognizes us outside of the coffeehouse?” Matthew asked as an odd sense of something akin to panic gripped him. He wanted more time alone with Charlotte, yet the strength of his emotions, their emotions, unsettled him. He’d had no time to analyze the ramifications of their encounter in the hothouse.
“You’ll be arriving in one of Tavish’s unmarked coaches, andLottie still has her veil,” Alexander pointed out. “My sister is well aware of any potential danger, and this is a risk she’s willing to take.”
Matthew glanced at the nondescript coach that he’d watched Charlotte enter. He nervously lifted his hand to his cravat to loosen the swath of fabric. “Do you really think this wise?” Matthew asked, more to himself than to Alexander, but his best friend answered anyway.
“Today’s revelations aside, I have always regarded you as eminently trustworthy,” Alexander said. “My sister is perfectly safe with you if that is what she desires.”
A new kind of pressure settled on Matthew as he returned his attention to his best friend. “My omissions have not entirely broken your faith in me?”
Alexander rubbed the lion on top of his cane before he spoke. “I would be prevaricating if I did not confess to some hurt that you kept an entire secret life from me. Intellectually, I know you were only doing what Tavish asked and what you believed to be best, yet there is still a sting. I shall get over it, though, in due course.”
