She sighed and pushed back from the table. “I’m going to find my father. I need to speak with him about last night.”
Ella stopped her from getting up. “Wait. Now, I know that we said we were going to tell the duke everything, but I have an idea.”
“Ella…” Vivi’s tone was laced with warning.
“I know, I know. But this is thoroughly harmless!” Ella defended herself quickly.
“Somehow I doubt that,” Alex said, “but I shall endeavor to humor you.”
“Thank you. All right. Blackmoor is gone from the house today, correct?” Ella’s eyes were bright with excitement.
“So it seems.”
“And we have little to do.”
“No, Ella.” This from Vivi. “I see where this is going. And it’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?! Why can’t we just sneak next door, take a look around Blackmoor House, and sneak back? No one will ever know!”
Alex spoke quietly. “Ella, I know how much you want to be a part of this adventure. I do, too. But now we’re at a point where we have to involve someone who knows a bit more about these matters than we do. We’re not talking about the Dowager Duchess of Lockwood’s walking stick going missing. We’re discussing murder and treason. I’m sorry, Ella. I’ve got to tell my father.”
With that, Alex stood and went to the door, pulling it open and calling out to Harquist, “Is my father free to speak with me, Harquist?”
“No, my lady, I’m afraid His Grace left early this morning,” the butler said with a low bow. “He is at Parliament for the morning and will leave directly from there to join your brothers in Essex.”
Alex tempered her disappointment. “Thank you. I suppose I shall wait and speak with him there, then.”
She closed the door and turned back to her friends, who were watching her carefully, waiting for her next move—one they would support without question. She met Ella’s eye, noting her friend’s desperate attempt to hide the thoughts that were written, quite plainly, across her face.
“All right, Ella. You win. Blackmoor House it is.”
twenty
Sneaking across the gardens to Blackmoor House felt very different by the light of day from how it had been when Alex was skulking around in the darkness the night before. In fact, it rather felt more like an afternoon walk than a clandestine activity. This could have been attributed to the fact that there were gardeners hard at work mere feet away who took absolutely no interest in their activities, or it could have been the fact that she hadn’t just overheard a horrible conversation, but Alex had a suspicion that it was more Ella’s glee at their activities. And her inability to keep quiet about it.
“How do we get into Blackmoor’s study? Did you climb in?”
“No, he lifted me in.”
“Hmm. Right, then. Vivi will have to give us a boost up.”
“She will, will she?” from the booster in question.
“Well, how else do we sneak in?”
“I rather thought that we could knock on the front door and have Bingham let us in,” Alex said matter-of-factly, referencing Blackmoor’s ancient butler, as she led the trio around the corner of the house and toward the main entrance.
“What? We can’t do that!” Ella stopped, indignant.
“Whyever not?” Vivi asked, following Alex. “It seems a perfectly acceptable way to enter. In fact, I believe I’ve been entering houses that way for my entire life.”
Seeing that she had been outvoted, not to mention left behind, Ella scurried to catch up to the other two as they made their way to the door. “And what do you expect we’ll say to him that will end in his leaving us in the house without a chaperone?” she whispered rather indelicately as Alex knocked on the door and put a finger to her lips, calling for silence.
“I imagine I’ll think of something.” The door opened, and she turned a brilliant smile on the older gentleman behind it. “Bingham! Good day!” She pushed through, Vivi and Ella hot on her heels. Once inside the house, she untied her bonnet, not allowing for a response. “Blackmoor asked that we pop over here and pick up some books from the study that he meant to bring over for my father before he left to go hunting with my brothers,” she said quickly. “I find him to be very forgetful, don’t you?”
As the butler began to speak, Vivi jumped in, picking up on the game, “Oh, I do as well—why, the other night, he left his walking stick at the Worthington House dinner. Nick had to return it the next morning, remember?”
“Indeed. So silly.” She threw up her hands in a ridiculous gesture. “You don’t mind if we just pop in and pick them up, do you, Bingham?” Alex was already moving toward the study, leaving the poor old man looking rather dumbfounded. “There’s no need for you to wait for us. He gave us a rather long list. Didn’t he, Ella?”
Ella turned surprised eyes on her. “He did?”
Vivi sighed, feigning exasperation. “Ella, you’re almost as forgetful as Blackmoor. You put the list inside your journal, didn’t you?”
Alex turned wide eyes on her friend. “You did bring the list, didn’t you? Or do we have to go back?”
Ella caught on. Finally. “No. No! Of course not. I have it right here.” She went digging into her reticule and brought out the book, opening it quickly and tearing out a page. She waved it under the nose of the butler, who was looking from one girl to the next, as if watching a game of lawn tennis. Ella buried her nose in the “list,” saying, “Agrarian Trends in the Counties of Essex and Staffordshire, 1750–1790. Good Lord! Your poor father. Hopefully there’s a novel somewhere on this list.”
Ella stopped her from getting up. “Wait. Now, I know that we said we were going to tell the duke everything, but I have an idea.”
“Ella…” Vivi’s tone was laced with warning.
“I know, I know. But this is thoroughly harmless!” Ella defended herself quickly.
“Somehow I doubt that,” Alex said, “but I shall endeavor to humor you.”
“Thank you. All right. Blackmoor is gone from the house today, correct?” Ella’s eyes were bright with excitement.
“So it seems.”
“And we have little to do.”
“No, Ella.” This from Vivi. “I see where this is going. And it’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?! Why can’t we just sneak next door, take a look around Blackmoor House, and sneak back? No one will ever know!”
Alex spoke quietly. “Ella, I know how much you want to be a part of this adventure. I do, too. But now we’re at a point where we have to involve someone who knows a bit more about these matters than we do. We’re not talking about the Dowager Duchess of Lockwood’s walking stick going missing. We’re discussing murder and treason. I’m sorry, Ella. I’ve got to tell my father.”
With that, Alex stood and went to the door, pulling it open and calling out to Harquist, “Is my father free to speak with me, Harquist?”
“No, my lady, I’m afraid His Grace left early this morning,” the butler said with a low bow. “He is at Parliament for the morning and will leave directly from there to join your brothers in Essex.”
Alex tempered her disappointment. “Thank you. I suppose I shall wait and speak with him there, then.”
She closed the door and turned back to her friends, who were watching her carefully, waiting for her next move—one they would support without question. She met Ella’s eye, noting her friend’s desperate attempt to hide the thoughts that were written, quite plainly, across her face.
“All right, Ella. You win. Blackmoor House it is.”
twenty
Sneaking across the gardens to Blackmoor House felt very different by the light of day from how it had been when Alex was skulking around in the darkness the night before. In fact, it rather felt more like an afternoon walk than a clandestine activity. This could have been attributed to the fact that there were gardeners hard at work mere feet away who took absolutely no interest in their activities, or it could have been the fact that she hadn’t just overheard a horrible conversation, but Alex had a suspicion that it was more Ella’s glee at their activities. And her inability to keep quiet about it.
“How do we get into Blackmoor’s study? Did you climb in?”
“No, he lifted me in.”
“Hmm. Right, then. Vivi will have to give us a boost up.”
“She will, will she?” from the booster in question.
“Well, how else do we sneak in?”
“I rather thought that we could knock on the front door and have Bingham let us in,” Alex said matter-of-factly, referencing Blackmoor’s ancient butler, as she led the trio around the corner of the house and toward the main entrance.
“What? We can’t do that!” Ella stopped, indignant.
“Whyever not?” Vivi asked, following Alex. “It seems a perfectly acceptable way to enter. In fact, I believe I’ve been entering houses that way for my entire life.”
Seeing that she had been outvoted, not to mention left behind, Ella scurried to catch up to the other two as they made their way to the door. “And what do you expect we’ll say to him that will end in his leaving us in the house without a chaperone?” she whispered rather indelicately as Alex knocked on the door and put a finger to her lips, calling for silence.
“I imagine I’ll think of something.” The door opened, and she turned a brilliant smile on the older gentleman behind it. “Bingham! Good day!” She pushed through, Vivi and Ella hot on her heels. Once inside the house, she untied her bonnet, not allowing for a response. “Blackmoor asked that we pop over here and pick up some books from the study that he meant to bring over for my father before he left to go hunting with my brothers,” she said quickly. “I find him to be very forgetful, don’t you?”
As the butler began to speak, Vivi jumped in, picking up on the game, “Oh, I do as well—why, the other night, he left his walking stick at the Worthington House dinner. Nick had to return it the next morning, remember?”
“Indeed. So silly.” She threw up her hands in a ridiculous gesture. “You don’t mind if we just pop in and pick them up, do you, Bingham?” Alex was already moving toward the study, leaving the poor old man looking rather dumbfounded. “There’s no need for you to wait for us. He gave us a rather long list. Didn’t he, Ella?”
Ella turned surprised eyes on her. “He did?”
Vivi sighed, feigning exasperation. “Ella, you’re almost as forgetful as Blackmoor. You put the list inside your journal, didn’t you?”
Alex turned wide eyes on her friend. “You did bring the list, didn’t you? Or do we have to go back?”
Ella caught on. Finally. “No. No! Of course not. I have it right here.” She went digging into her reticule and brought out the book, opening it quickly and tearing out a page. She waved it under the nose of the butler, who was looking from one girl to the next, as if watching a game of lawn tennis. Ella buried her nose in the “list,” saying, “Agrarian Trends in the Counties of Essex and Staffordshire, 1750–1790. Good Lord! Your poor father. Hopefully there’s a novel somewhere on this list.”
