“And now we will leave you to sleep,” Tilly said when he was finished, because Ruby was exhausted, but in a small way, she seemed relieved. Almost like knowing the truth had set her free.
“Poor girl,” Alex said. “What I have is both a blessing and curse.”
“It is wonderful for those who need closure, Alex. Never doubt that, but I also know it can not be easy for you.”
“We are leaving, Alex, before any of The Iris Club’s members see us,” Leo said when they reached the front entrance. “We are to all gather again at Crabbett Close four days from now to discuss the matter further. In the meantime, we will all subtly investigate and see what we can find out about what went on below.”
Tilly had so many more questions for Alex but did not ask them. Her past was best left there, and she knew he would not talk about what they had with anyone.
But that night, for the first time after many years, when Tilly’s head rested on her pillow, she thought back to the day when her life had changed and cried.
CHAPTER 18
The words on the newspaper blurred. Blinking, Ambrose tried to bring them back into focus and then gave up, lowering it to the table.
“Enough,” he muttered, getting out of his chair.
He called for his carriage and left the house twenty minutes later.
It was now three days after they’d taken the Nightingales down into those rooms beneath the clubs, and he’d spent most of the subsequent daylight hours asking questions of people.
In the library, Ambrose had found books on cults and radical religions. He’d made extensive notes and still had a feeling he was off track. At this stage all he had was a vague understanding that those below had once been Freemasons and were now Societas Rosicruciana, which they’d already deduced from the book, or more precisely, the cross they’d found in it.
Had Tilly shown the book to the owner of the bookshop? He needed to find her and ask.
Ambrose had mentioned Societas Rosicruciana to agroup of older noblemen last night at the Bessett ball, saying that he’d just read a book about it. None had said they knew anyone involved, but then they could be lying. He had no way of knowing.
He’d then spent the remainder of the night with his friends and family. His sister had made him dance with a few of the less popular women in society.
Tilly had arrived with her parents and then danced twice with Howard, which told him there was definitely interest there, at least from Howard.
He’d watched, stomping down his jealousy, trying to convince himself she was not the right woman for him. If they ever wed, they would likely kill each other.
Ambrose felt the carriage slow and looked out the window. He would need to walk the rest of the way, but it was not far and he could do with exercise to clear his head.
The newspaper advertisement he’d read had said that Thomas Redfern Optician was the best in London, which he was dubious about, but then he did not know many spectacle wearing people to confirm this claim, and he was definitely not asking Tilly or his father.
Ambrose stepped down when the carriage stopped and sent it away for an hour. He then headed along a narrow lane that led to a busier street. This one had plenty of businesses and shops, but none of them fashion so there was no chance of running into his sisters. He’d never live it down if they knew he was considering wearing spectacles.
He stops before a sign that reads Thomas Redfern; Optician. Below the words were a set of spectacles. After looking left and right, he entered.
Ambrose still doubted he needed glasses for reading. It was a point of pride, of course. He was still young and believed spectacles were for older people. Except Miss Wilson, of course, who had started him on this journey.
“Good day to you,” a young man said from behind a counter. Below him on trays were rows of spectacles. “I am Thomas Redfern.”
Surely not?The man looked far too young to know what he was talking about.
“I am having headaches,” Ambrose found himself saying.
The little bell on the door behind him rang, signaling another client, but Ambrose didn’t look, instead keeping his eyes on the man.
“Won’t be a moment, Miss Wilson.”
He turned so fast, it actually hurt his neck.
And there she stood, smiling at him. “Well now, this is a surprise. Imagine seeing you here, my lord.”
“I’m leaving,” Ambrose said.
