Her intellect accepted that she had been manipulated by one whose skills at disemblement far surpassed her ability to discern it.
But her heart still fought against believing it.
“Alex?” Lady Beckworth’s voice floated through the door from the corridor.
Alex smoothed her gown, brushed her sleeve once more over her eyes and forced a bright look. “Yes, I’m here in the library.”
Lady Beckworth poked her head into the room. “Oh. You are at work early.” Her gaze lingered on Alex’s face before she entered. “A note arrived for you just now,” she added, and handed over the folded sheet of paper.
Alex regarded the unfamiliar handwriting with a slight frown before she broke the seal.
Dear Miss Chilton,
I have discovered some extraordinary news concerning the matter we discussed last night. Until I have a chance to explain, I think it best to maintain absolute secrecy and discretion. If you will take a walk at the hour of ten this morning, a hackney cab will pick you up at the Piccadilly entrance to Green Park and bring you to me.
Yours, etc.
Hammerton
She looked up, assuming a bland smile as she tucked the letter into her bodice. “Mr. Simpson has managed to procure a few of the prized specimens that arrived from the East Indies last week. I think that I shall go see them once I’m done here.”
Lady Beckworth looked as if to say something, but Alex turned away and began cleaning her palette and brushes. A moment later, she heard her aunt retreat into the corridor and her footsteps soon faded away.
An hour later, Alex left the house alone.
Cecilia Ashton smoothedthe folds of her elegant walking dress and then knocked on the on the front door of the modest townhouse Lady Beckworth had rented. Several long moments passed, and she was beginning to wonder whether her bold strategy had misfired when an elderly servant finally answered the summons.
“Good day,” she said. “Kindly inform Miss Chilton that Lady Ashton wishes to see her on a most urgent matter.”
The servant made a face. “I’m sorry, madam, but Miss Chilton is not at home.”
Cecilia blinked in surprise.Where could Alex have gone?It was far too early to make social calls in Mayfair—which was why she had deliberately ignored the unwritten rules and come at this hour—and none of the shops on Bond Street were open yet …
“Do you know when she will return?” asked Cecilia
The fellow shook his head.
“Please tell her I shall return this afternoon.” She held out her calling card, which he eyed in confusion before gingerly accepting it. “And please don’t forget to add that it ismostimportant I see her.”
Once she had put a plan into action, Cecilia disliked for it to be thwarted. However, it seemed that she had no choice but to wait until later.
Branford gingerly placedhis feet on the floor and stood up slowly. Though feeling a trifle unsteady, the dizziness andnausea had passed—as had his despair. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to topple over, he rang for his valet.
Once he was freshly shaved and dressed, he felt even more like a new man. At least there was a glimmer of hope for the future, he thought with a rueful smile as he recalled Cecilia’s visit.
Heaven forfend that the cosmos dare stand in her way when she decided to take charge of a project. Nothing was beyond her powers—even untangling the coil he had gotten himself into seemed possible.
At least he hoped so.
And what’s more, Cecilia had made him realize what a coward he had been to give up and retreat without a fight. She was right—Alex deserved better from him.
The resolve gave added strength to his step.
Throwing a silk dressing gown over his shirt, Branford made his way downstairs. After asking for coffee and toast to be brought to his study, he made his way to his desk and opened the top drawer, Something about the coded letter Alex had given him had been hovering at the edges of his consciousness throughout his feverish state. While he waited for news from Cecilia, he determined to have another look at it.
He withdrew the letter, along with the sheaf of notes he had made during his trip to East Anglia. Spreading the pieces of paper over the entire desk top reminded him of the jigsaw puzzles he had played with as a child.
All the pieces were here—he was sure of that. He just had to figure out how they fit together.
