“George?” Christina blinked at him, her eyes rounding slightly. Perhaps she, too, had been hoping for something more from his unexpected nearness. “Why, what of him?”
“Do you know how long he has been a part of your household staff?”
She frowned, catching the edge of her lip between her teeth as she thought. “It has not been too long,” she said, slowly. “I am sure father took him on at the very same time as Sophie was engaged, so it must have been two years ago. Why do you ask?”
Isaac’s frown returned. “And he has only worked here, in London?”
“Yes, I think so.” Christina shifted in her seat so she could look at Isaac a little more directly. “Why do you ask about a footman? I thought that, since my mother is not present, we might – ”
“It seems very strange to me that the footman who would disappear from my household here in London would then appear at your father’s door,” Isaac interrupted, gently. “That is what has captured my attention, Christina. When you and I wereforming our connection two years ago, George was working as one of my footmen. He disappeared without explanation, and I could not find out where he had gone. None of the other servants knew, and my butler did inform me that it was best he had gone of his own accord, suggesting – without stating it, of course – that he was not a man of good character.”
Christina’s eyes flared. “And then he came directly to my father’s household?”
“Indeed. If you can recall when precisely it was, that might be of use to us.” He pressed her fingers. “Was it before or after we first received those letters?”
Closing her eyes, Christina pressed her mouth tightly, white showing around the pink of her lips. Drawing in one steady breath, she released it quickly, opened her eyes, and nodded. “Yes, I think it was before – although just before. I recall Sophie remarking on it, and I, at the time, was thinking to myself of just how little importance such things were.” Her expression softened. “I had more wonderful things to consider.”
Isaac’s heart ached at the loss that they had both endured, a loss which had been so devastating given the overwhelming joy that they had shared. Could he allow himself to hope that, one day soon, they would return to that state of joy?
“Do you think this footman is of importance?”
Pulling himself away from his swirling, heated emotions, Isaac cleared his throat and shrugged. “It is difficult to say, but it is certainly unusual.”
“Should you like to speak with him?”
Nodding, Isaac rose to his feet. “Allow me to pull the bell for you.”
Her eyes twinkled. “How gentlemanly of you, Lord Coventry.”
“I would do anything to please you, my lady,” he responded, pulling the bell and then sweeping into a grand bow, which madeher laugh, her face flushing. “But in truth, Christina, that is just as my heart feels.” Coming to sit beside her again, he put his hand out and waited for her to take it. The touch of her hand on his made his heart pound, the urge to take her in his arms returning with force. “I wish that we could step back into what we shared before.”
“Mayhap all will be well,” she said, softly. “We must find out the truth about our previous difficulties and then – ”
The scratch at the door brought the conversation to a close as Isaac rose quickly and hurried to sit in his chair opposite Christina, just as she called the servant in.
“Ah, Thompson, there you are. I was hoping to speak with George. Might you send for him?”
The butler cleared his throat and frowned, inclining his head a fraction. “My lady, I must apologize for my tardiness in coming to speak with you, but George was the cause of my delay, I am afraid. He returned below stairs only a few minutes ago and then, without warning, collected his few things from his rooms and has disappeared from the house.”
Isaac’s eyebrows lifted, shock hitting him as he rose to his feet. “You mean to say that your footman has quit the house without explanation?”
The butler closed his eyes briefly. “Forgive me, I did not mean to speak with such openness.”
“I will not speak of this to anyone, you have my promise,” Isaac said those words to Christina, making sure that the butler heard them and was reassured. “That is… curious indeed.”
“Thank you, Thompson.” Christina, too, rose to her feet. “Might you go to inform my mother of this happening?”
The butler nodded and quit the room at once, leaving Isaac and Christina alone again. They looked at one another for a long moment before Christina shook her head and sank back down into her chair.
“This is strange,” she said, as the door opened to permit the maid entry, coming to sit in the corner and bringing an end to their intimacy. “Whatever does it mean?”
Isaac spread out his hands, glancing at the maid and then lowering his voice as he spoke. “I could not say,” he replied, as quietly as he could. “But I think he may have some of the answers we are looking for, and that means, one way or another, we must find him again.”
The following morning,Christina slipped from the house while her mother was still occupied with correspondence and took a hackney to Paternoster Row. Isaac was waiting near the corner of the street, one shoulder against the stone wall of a bookseller's, his hat pulled low against the thin drizzle. He straightened when he saw her and offered his arm without a word.
"You brought the letter?" she asked, as they walked.
He tapped his coat. "The paper sample, yes. And a note of the weight and texture you described — 'common stock, the sort a clerk might purchase.' Your words, as I recorded them."
