“We visited the menagerie earlier,” Fanny said.
Grimsley rearranged his expression to convey disappointment, but his sharp eyes glittered. “I’m downcast. I had hoped to show you the exotic beasts myself. Did you see the baboon?” A growl started in Eli’s throat when the dandified earl glanced over at him. He controlled it. Grimsley seemed to have less command over his tongue this afternoon than in the past.
The earl went on as if he noticed nothing. “Of course, I would be delighted to escort you to the Jewel House. I should have known the ladies would fancy that exhibit.” He offered his arm to Fanny, managing to nudge Wil away. Unable to politely decline, she placed the tips of her fingers on his arm after a moment of hesitation.
When they turned on the narrow path, Grimsley’s companion stood between the earl, Fanny on his arm, and Eli, who escorted Lucy. When Eli leaned to the left to peer around the man, Lucy tugged him back and glared, wordlessly telling him not to make a scene.
Arriving in front of the cage surrounding the royal regalia, Fanny retrieved her hand, turned to Wil, pulled him forward—putting an arm around his shoulder—and began describing knowledgeably what they saw. Grimsley stood close to her other side.
“Saint Edward’s Crown?” Wil asked. “Who was he?”
“The king who died in 1066,” Grimsley interjected before Fanny could answer. “He’s a cautionary tale about leaving no heir.” He gestured about the building they stood in. “His conquering successor built this fortress and took the crown, which was made for Edward.”
“Actually, Edward’s crown was destroyed under Cromwell,” Fanny said, contradicting the earl. “They melted down all the royal jewels. The crown had to be recreated for Charles II.”
Her knowledge impressed Eli. Forced to stand behind them, he kept one eye on the companion, who hung back to the earl’s right. Eli was gratified to see Reilly hovering nearby, his posture alert.
Grimsley growled. “It shows what happens when rabble goes unchecked.”
Something in the earl’s manner and in the presence of his servant—if that was what he was—made Eli uneasy. He felt a fool, standing tense and vigilant as if he was back in the alley in Manchester, facing street toughs, yet the hairs on the back of his head stood on end and he couldn’t shake his sense of menace. Perhaps it was the open way Grimsley ogled Fanny. Even the companion cast intent glances her way, but why would he? Eli wondered if he was letting jealousy infest his judgment.
Perhaps not. The earl’s remark about the lower classes brought a fierce frown to Wil’s face and caused Fanny to stiffen.
Grimsley took no notice. “This display must be impressive for someone from—Ashmead, is it? Isn’t that in Nottinghamshire?”
For one so high in the instep, the earl took an inordinate amount of interest in Fanny. He likely believed the saying “blood will out,” or some such nonsense, allowing an earl’s bastard in his charmed circle but patently excluding her brother. And Eli. Eli contemplated the consequences of bloodying the man’s nose. They would be unpleasant.
Wil spoke up, “I would think it would impress any Englishman. And I am a Manchester man,” he said proudly, blushed, and glanced apologetically at Lucy and Eli. “But I’m coming to enjoy Ashmead.”
“Manchester? You, too, Miss Hancock?” the earl asked.
Fanny nodded, but before she could speak, Lucy, who had been studying the jewels quietly at Wil’s side, turned to her companions. “This has been lovely, but I fear I grow weary,” she murmured, to Eli’s relief. Fanny turned toward Lucy, giving Grimsley her back. Lucy reached for Wil’s arm, and Eli offered his to Fanny, earning a wary smile. He patted her hand to reassure her.
Once a few steps away, Lucy peered back at Grimsley. “Do enjoy your visit to the Tower, my lord. I was surprised to find you here. Do you come here often?”
The earl stiffened. “Of course. It is our heritage, and the day is lovely.”
“We’ll leave you to your tour, then. Good day, my lord,” Eli said.
Grimsley’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll see you again on Tuesday, Miss Hancock. You promised to reserve a dance. Perhaps you can tell me more about your life in Manchester then.”
Fanny blinked. She had obviously forgotten about the soiree. Eli led her to the door, half expecting Grimsley or his companion to intervene or attempt to separate them. Reilly may have thought the same, because he moved to their back.
Out in the sunshine, they saw other people enjoying outings at the Tower, and Eli relaxed a bit. He didn’t stop their march to their carriage, however. None of them spoke until they were in it and on their way, Eli and Wil facing back, the ladies facing forward, and Reilly up top.
Eli groped for something wise to say to explain what had just happened or to turn the subject, but Fanny couldn’t keep anxiety from her expression, and words wouldn’t come to him.
“That was strange.” Trust Lucy to put it into words. “Why would Grimsley be strolling around the Tower grounds? Do you think he came specifically to meet us?”
“How would he know we were there?” Fanny asked.
How, indeed. Eli wondered the same thing. “An odd coincidence,” he said.
“Is he the one you said rescued you at the theater?” Wil asked. “He didn’t seem particularly pleasant to me.”
“Understatement, young Wil. He neglected to bring his charm today,” Eli said.
“That’s exactly it. He has always been at pains to exhibit his charm. Not today,” Lucy said. She pulled her brows together in thought. “Not that he has ever been particularly amiable in the past, before he met Fanny at Hyde Park.” She glanced up at Fanny. “Rob and I skirt the edges of high society, as part of an earl’s family, though the highest sticklers ignore us and others keep our connections to Clarion vague. I’d have put Grimsley in that first group before.”
“Perhaps he regrets taking an interest in an earl’s by-blow,” Fanny murmured.
“That doesn’t explain his turning up during our tour,” Eli said. Privately, he believed himself to be the primary target of the earl’s hostility. He resolved to speak to Mullins about the staff at Rob’s house and to question servants at Caulfield House. He couldn’t shake the belief someone had told the vile earl where to find them. He had no idea why the man cared.
He resolved to speak to Rob. Since they’d gotten to London, his dratted brother had spent entirely too much time providing security for—and likely spying on—diplomats from much of the civilized world and too little paying attention to his household. For which, of course, he was well compensated.
