Page 35

Because it was. Sergeant Turner had kept his personal diary of more than a decade in some sort of code. Miss Turner seemed merely surprised by it, but Alec suddenly saw his assignment in an entirely different light. Finding a missing man was ordinary stuff. Finding a man with years of secrets who’d vanished without a trace. . . that was something John Stafford would send him to do.

It was still tedious work. There were several letters in the pile, mostly from former army superiors responding to Sergeant Turner’s inquiries about employment opportunities. Turner had ambitions, Alec realized, noting what sort of positions the man sought. No hard labor for him; Turner asked about clerkships to governing boards and plum posts in the scaled-down army. Most officers would have been turned down for these patronage positions, which were highly desired for the combination of comfortable pay, respectable status, and low work requirements. They seemed far out of reach for a sergeant, even a distinguished one, but the replies were all apologetic in their refusal, even deferential. It struck Alec as odd both that Turner would think himself fit for these posts, and that he would be denied with so much solicitude.

He paused on that thought. Perhaps he should retrieve the diary from Miss Turner, and discover what secrets it held on his own.

By far the larger part of the papers were bills. For two days Alec painstakingly matched them to ledger entries. No humble soldier’s life for this fellow, with receipts for snuffboxes, fine china, and quality tobacco. Turner bought like a man with a healthy income and no worries about the morrow, and almost exclusively on credit—which he apparently had no trouble getting, anywhere from Marston to Portsmouth. He did pay eventually, although he often drew things out until the merchants grew impatient. Nothing had been paid in the last four months, of course, and Alec added up almost three hundred pounds’ worth of outstanding debt.

But Turner did not have a healthy income, and he’d spent over a thousand pounds in the last two years. Alec found entries for a modest investment income on behalf of Mrs. Phillips, as well as Turner’s army pension and a small annuity that must be his mother’s. There were frequent, but not regular, payments from “W. Pren.,” with no other description except the word “Ludgate” written in tiny script under one entry.

So Turner had outspent his means. Was that reason enough to disappear? Alec knew it was, and yet Miss Turner was certain that wasn’t why her father had disappeared. Given the coded diary, he tended to think she was correct.

It took only a little effort to discover that a printer named Willard Prenner operated out of a small shop in London off Ludgate Hill. That also struck Alec as odd. What could an army sergeant do for a printer? The most recent payment was only a fortnight before Turner disappeared, which meant Prenner could know something useful.

Mindful of his promise to keep her informed, and not because he wanted to see her again, Alec went to Brighampton to tell Miss Turner.

“I shall come with you,” she said at once when he said he was going to call on Mr. Prenner.

“You shouldn’t trouble yourself. I expect it will be a rather dull trip.”

“But my father hasn’t been seen since he went to London. What if we should discover something that would lead right to him?” She moved to the edge of her seat, her golden eyes bright with determination and eagerness.

“It seems unlikely,” Alec said, again keeping his thoughts to himself. He couldn’t shake the growing feeling that George Turner had disappeared deliberately. The debts, the inexplicable income, the letters seeking plum positions. . . They all hinted at a man not quite as honorable and well-liked as his daughters thought him.

Miss Turner no doubt imagined rescuing her father from unjust imprisonment or a sick house. Alec was beginning to suspect he would find Turner, if he found him at all, holed up in a pub with a new name and a sad tale to win him some flush new friends. He might not want to come home, and Alec suspected his family might be better off without him.

But he’d been charged by Stafford to find the man, and find him he would, if at all possible.

“But it might,” Miss Turner insisted. “I want to come with you.”

Not for the first time, Alec wished he could suppress his interest in her. Just the thought of taking her to London with him was planting wicked thoughts in his head. She said she wanted to know, and he couldn’t lie to her. “You should know there's a chance we could discover something unpleasant,” he warned her, making one last effort to persuade her to stay.

Her bosom rose and fell as she took a deep breath. “I understand,” she said quietly. “I am prepared. But I need to know what’s happened to my father.”

Alec gave in, telling himself it was totally unrelated to the surge of triumph at the prospect of being alone with her for two entire days. “Very well. I shall call for you early in the morning.”

* * *

After he left, Cressida went to pack, only realizing then that she would have to explain to Callie. And true to expectations, her sister was alarmed at the prospect.

“Must you really go?”

“Yes.” Cressida didn’t mention that the major had said otherwise. “We leave in the morning.”

“Just the two of you?” Callie frowned. “Mr. Webb should go as well.”

“Tom should stay here. We’ll only be gone overnight, but if something should happen, you might need him.” She placed clean garments in the valise. “It’s not as if Major Hayes will be tempted to ravish me.”

“I don’t know,” Callie murmured. “He did look at you most attentively at the party. . . ”

Cressida snorted, but turned away all the same so no embarrassing blush could betray her. “Nonsense.”

“It is not,” Callie argued. “Granny will be appalled.”

“Callie, you’re only thinking of. . . that because of our conversation that night. He’s not going to ravish me even if I were the most enchanting woman alive, and I most certainly am not.”

“But you look very well-matched next to him.” She turned on her sister in shock, but Callie put up her chin and nodded. “You do, both so tall. You look elegant beside him, and I think he admires you.”

“Callie!”