“I know what it means.”
“Do you? It is not treason, as such, for example. With the counterfeiting, it could have been that bad. So this is bad news that could have been worse.”
“I will remember to think of it in that light. Has he spoken to you now, with such a charge hanging over him?”
Notley shook his head. “I went and stood outside that cell for an hour, and he ignored me the entire time.”
“Thank you for trying, and for such diligenceregarding the inheritance. I hope that I can call on you if he can be convinced to cooperate.”
“Absolutely, Miss Belvoir.” They both stood. Notley left the office. The clerk opened his account book and told her what was owed.
***
“What do you mean, she is gone?” Ives made the demand of the footman who opened the door, after being told Miss Belvoir had departed the premises.
“She left early this morning, sir. Valise in hand.”
Ives strode back out of the house and swung onto his horse. Had he not told Padua that he would come by and help her make arrangements? She had no experience with estate agents and contracts. She was only doing this because she wanted to prove she did not need him to take care of her.
She did not want to marry? Fine. She did not want to be his mistress? Accepted. She assumed returning to London made an affair too complicated, too dangerous? Dangerous for him, not her, that is? He would disabuse her of that eventually, but for now, she was homeless and adrift and the least he could do was help her get settled. The least she could do was allow him that.
He headed into the City, to see if she had called on that lawyer. Notley had written he had news, and she would want to hear it.
“Miss Belvoir was here, sir,” the clerk said. “She left a good hour ago.”
“Where did she go? Do you know?”
The clerk fingered his pen nervously. “Perhaps if you waited until Mr. Notley returned—”
“I do not have the time for that. If you know where she went, tell me and spare us both a long argument that, I assure you, I intend to win.”
The clerk heard the threat, or saw it. He grabbed a scrap of paper and jotted. “She most likely went to this house, sir. She was very excited to learn her father owned it. An inheritance, it was.”
Ives read the address. Belvoir ownedthis house? He almost did grab the clerk by the neck then. “Mr. Notley allowed her to go here on her own? Is he familiar with this property?”
The clerk glanced left and right, as if seeking an escape route. “He is not. I saw it, however.”
“You did not go in, did you?”
“I only walked by, so I could be useful. I reported it was a fine, big house.”
“Soyousent her there?”
The clerk squirmed. “Not sent as such, sir. That was her own decision. If she went at all. She did not say she was going today, or any day, now that I think about it.” He smiled weakly.
Oh, she had gone there. Ives did not doubt it. On learning her father was a man of property, she would have to go see the house. Anyone would.
He left the clerk and returned to the street. He aimed his horse back west.
CHAPTER17
There was nothing else for it. She had to carry the valise with her to the door. She hoped the family that lived here did not think she intended to move in and displace them.
She paused to admire the neatly dressed buff stones that formed the four-storey façade on Silver Street. Impressed, she used the fine brass knocker someone had recently installed. A tall African man in livery opened the door. He looked at her, frowning beneath the edge of his white wig. He boldly eyed her from head to toe.
She examined him too. Liveried servants decked out in blue velvet and pumps seemed excessive for this street. The house was large, that was true, but it was hardly in a fashionable area.
“I am Padua Belvoir, Hadrian Belvoir’s daughter. Your employer may know him as John Belvoir. He lets this house. I am hoping the family would not mind if I asked them a few questions. My father is indisposed, you see, and—”
