“I say,” exclaimed Hartley, taking no notice that Justin’s voice had trailed off. “The others will really be impressed—egad! I nearly forgot!” His friend hastily consulted his gold pocketwatch. “I’m supposed to meet with my grandmother at one, without fail.” His face took on a pained expression. “She is having guests—including a chit of marriageable age, no doubt. But as she grants me a most generous allowance, I must do my duty. I fear it means abandoning you here.”
Justin laughed. “You go on. It’s a pleasant day. I shall walk home.”
Indeed, he was still new enough to Town to find the streets fascinating. A myriad of sights, smells and sounds overwhelmed his senses—the cries of a costermonger, the pungent yeastiness of a spilled keg of ale, the smart carriages with matched teams jostling with dray carts. He was so lost in his observations that it took a second greeting to catch his attention.
“Mr. Chilton.”
Justin’s head snapped up. “I beg your pardon. I fear I was woolgathering.”
“Indeed you were.” There was a faint smile on Branford’s face as he controlled his spirited team with careless ease. Are you headed to Half Moon Street? I am passing by there if you care to climb up.”
Justin hesitated.
The horses danced with impatience.
“They are getting cold while you ponder the offer. If you prefer to walk ...” He made as if to give the team its head.
Realizing how rude he was appearing, Justin quickly made his decision.
“Thank you, sir,” he said as he climbed up beside the earl.
Branford flicked the whip and they were off.
They rodein silence for a bit, with Justin casting surreptitious looks to observe just how the earl handled the ribbons.
Branford suppressed a smile at the young man’s obvious interest and smartly guided the team around a number of slower moving conveyances, displaying a number of skillful moves with the whip and reins. It gave him an odd twinge as he recalled how his young cousin had sat with him, showing much the same rapt attention as Alex’s brother.
And he found that he was rather enjoying himself—he had to admit it was nice to see admiration rather than fear in another’s eye.
“Tell me, Chilton,” he said after a while. “What was your father like?”
Justin started in surprise. “W-What?”
“What sort of man was he?” Noticing the young man’s consternation, he added a brief explanation. “As you know, your sister asked me to look at ...”
“The infamous letter,” groaned Justin.
“Quite.”
“I’m very sorry, sir, that she saw fit to pester you with such nonsense. You needn’t take it seriously.”
“I take my word very seriously, Chilton,” he replied. “And I promised your sister I would endeavor to help—and to do that, I would like your assistance. Your late father devised an unusual sort of system for his code. Someone with no training in the subject is often tougher to crack than one who follows set principles or patterns. I’ve learned from experience that it helps to know something about the person himself. Little things may help provide a key as to how he thinks—and thus how to decipher the coded message.”
Justin nodded slowly. “I think I see what you mean.” He thought for a moment. “He was a ... driven man, wrapped up in his own world. I mean, he was kind enough to us, but, well, even as a child I sensed there was a part of himself that he wouldn’t share.”
A sigh. “At times, he would fall into dark moods—that was when he would go off on one of his trips, to gather material on his book. When he returned, things would usually be fine for a while.” Justin gave a small grimace. “Until the next mood.”
The young man seemed to be struggling with painful memories, noted Branford.
“Alex had to take care of all the practical things, for our mother died when I was very young. I ... I wish I could have helped her more.” He caught himself. “I daresay this probably sounds quite ridiculous to you.”
“Not at all,” said Branford softly.
Justin let out a breath, as if relieved that he hadn’t made a cake of himself by revealing such private details.
The carriage came to a halt in front of the townhouse Lady Beckworth had taken for the Season. As Justin made to dismount, he turned impulsively to Branford. “Would you care to come in for tea, sir? It is nothing out of the ordinary, but ...”
He hesitated, as if aware that one wasn’t expected to invite the Icy Earl to tea.
