Page 55

Spreading them out on the table, Lavinia said, “They fell out of the underside of one of Wark’s desk drawers.”

“And you took them?” Andrew asked.

“I couldn’t very well memorize them with so little time, could I?” she asked.

“ ‘Thirty-eight, forty, thirty-two, fifteen, nineteen,’ ” Miss Gibson read out from one of the slips.

“The numbers seem to be grouped,” said Andrew, reluctantly looking at them. “They’re too close to be a code, unless they’re meant to be a couple of letters repeated over and over again.”

“I thought that too,” she said, staring at them. They looked so familiar, but it was as though the nature of them was on the tip of her tongue.

“ ‘Forty-one, forty-three, thirty-four, seventeen, twenty,’ ” Miss Gibson read out another. “Could they be some sort of scrambled longitude and latitude?”

He tilted his head with a frown. “Perhaps a starting place and an ending place?”

“But if they’re scrambled, they could be any combination of numbers,” Miss Gibson said.

“Did you see a book on Wark’s desk?” Andrew asked.

She shook her head. “There were stacks of papers detailing the royal visit and all of the surrounding activities.”

“What kind of activities?” he asked.

“The schedule of the visit, and some more detailed information about the prince’s movements,” she said.

“When?” Miss Gibson asked.

“The night of the ball. I think that Wark may strike then, and . . .” She hesitated, drawing herself up. “Wark had asked me if I wanted him to secure me an invitation.”

“Out of the question,” said Andrew, dismissing the idea outright.

“But I could be there if Wark acts,” she pushed.

“If. We’ve considered that it may be a possible target, but we’re still no closer to finding out what the group has planned. Was there anything else near these papers?” Andrew said.

“Blueprints to a mews house it looks like Wark is thinking of renovating, and his bank ledger,” said Lavinia.

“Was there any unusual activity in there? The key to the code could be in plain sight. We just have to figure out where to look,” he said.

She shook her head. “Other than payments to a couple of tailors and a bookmaker, it was mostly withdrawals for cash. I suspect Mrs. Wark keeps a separate account of the household expenses.”

Miss Gibson stifled a yawn. “Well, we likely won’t be any wiser if we don’t sleep. Trace those numbers to preserve the handwriting and give the original papers to me.”

“What will you do with them?” Lavinia asked.

“If you tell me exactly where you found them, I have a friend who can put them back. Wark will be none the wiser,” said Miss Gibson.

“Would this friend be a burglar by any chance?” Andrew asked.

Miss Gibson shot him a smile. “Don’t ask questions you don’t wish to know the answers to, Andrew.”

It took just a few moments to trace the numbers twice—one for Andrew and Gillie and one for Lavinia in case inspiration struck—and then give the slips to Miss Gibson. As the young woman tucked them away, she said, “Andrew, can you deal with the fire? I’m dead on my feet.”

“Go,” he said with a nod to the door. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Lavinia watched Miss Gibson haul herself up and wrap herself in her magenta shawl before plodding down the stairs.

“Will she be all right walking home by herself?” she asked.