‘Could he have hidden it in another room?’
He shook his head. ‘Too risky. What if it fell into the wrong hands? A servant—or another Odd Fellow? No. I do not think he would have been so foolish.’
He paused, then added more slowly, ‘We might try the library. It was, after all, the last place he was seen alive. It may have slipped from his pocket during the struggle.’
Together they made their way towards the library, their steps slower now, as though the weight of failure had begun to settle upon them.
Charlotte entered first, Lord Stanley close behind her, and scanned the familiar seating area where Wolverton had last sat.
A side table beside the armchair near the window caught her attention. Upon it rested a pipe, cold and forgotten.
She checked beneath the cushions and behind the chair, but found nothing.
Meanwhile, Lord Stanley knelt and reached beneath the armchair itself. A moment later he withdrew clutching a small volume.
‘I thought we had it,’ he said dryly, rising to his feet, ‘but it appears to be only a volume of poetry.’
At that moment Charlotte’s gaze fell upon his snuff box.
She flicked the lid open and saw the same rose-and-serpent symbol.
She lifted the snuff box slowly. It felt oddly heavy in her hands.
A terrible certainty crept over her.
She gave it a cautious shake.
Then tipped the tobacco carefully upon the table.
And there—hidden neatly beneath—was a false bottom.
Charlotte prised it open.
For a moment she simply stared at it, speechless.
There it was. The black book.
Chapter 30
She exchanged glances with Lord Stanley. Without a word, she opened the book.
Its pages were filled with unfamiliar symbols and glyphs—a cipher.
Lord Stanley moved closer, standing just behind her as he studied the pages.
‘I have a feeling,’ he said quietly, ‘this is an accounting of names... perhaps locations as well.’
Charlotte exhaled shakily. ‘Unfortunately, without the key to the cipher, it is useless.’
‘I may need to travel to London and consult someone skilled in decoding. It is worth attempting. Perhaps we can still crack it. Or, if we identify the remaining Odd Fellows, we may yet force the code from one of them.’
She shut the book with frustration and began to pace the room. ‘How? We have spent weeks beneath the same roof, and still they remain several steps ahead of us. We have scarcely escaped their schemes ourselves.’
‘Yes—but until now, we have been acting alone.’ He folded his arms. ‘If we work together, we may achieve considerablymore. We have until the close of the house party and the ball. Until then, we maintain the pretence of our engagement and continue our inquiries carefully. Someone may yet betray more than they intended.’
‘But they will be on high alert.’
‘Precisely. And that knowledge may unsettle them. Men grow careless under pressure. We already know Hamilton and Boulton are involved. What we require now is the identity of this Falcon. From the sound of it, he is no mere member, but their leader.’
