Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“Will you be wanting the servants to start packing up the parlour, My Lord?” the butler asked in his usual dismissive tone.

Looking around the room where Henry had practically lived after Isabelle’s disappearance, he allowed his shoulders to slump in defeat. He was by no means close to giving up on finding her, yet he knew that he couldn’t keep the servants at bay forever.

“I guess we will have to start in the parlour at some point,” Henry conceded with a tired shrug and began to gather the pieces of parchment scattered over the small table in the corner of the room.

It was inevitable that the people who worked for him would want to move on with their lives. He couldn’t expect them to hang around forever in limbo, not knowing if they were going to the country or staying to serve an empty house.

“Very well, My Lord, I shall instruct the maids to begin packing as soon as you are ready.” The butler bowed half-heartedly before making his exit.

At least he will be relieved to hear he’s not coming with me.

The servants had been whispering for days on end about his obsession with the missing spinster. He knew for certain that the news had already reached his in-laws, but he couldn’t have cared less about how things looked. All that mattered to him was finding Isabelle.

Henry shook his head and turned back to the map of clues he’d scribbled on a piece of paper. It had been two weeks since Isabelle had run away, and he wasn’t any closer to tracking her down.

“There has to be something here that I’m not seeing,” he spoke to an empty room while curving his brow into a frown and chewing the inside of his cheek.

An idea popped into his head as he surveyed his scribbled notes. He’d checked just about everywhere for signs of Isabelle. Everywhere except for one place in particular. It wouldn’t be easy to get in, but even that was a small price to pay if it would lead him in the right direction.

Making up his mind, he lifted himself from the chair and headed straight for the front door before bumping into the butler on his way out.

“My Lord, may the maids …”

“Yes, yes, pack up whatever you want.” Henry cut him short with a wave of his hand before reaching for his coat and shrugging it over his shoulders.

The butler simply nodded and opened the front door, stepping aside as if he were relieved that Henry was finally leaving.

Out on the busy street, Henry looked around in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of Isabelle before heading straight towards the Bow Street Runners main office.

It took him a good few minutes to reach them, but when he did, he was greeted by an exasperated old man with a handlebar moustache and grumpy countenance.

“Good morning. My Lord. Like I told you yesterday and the day before that, we have not yet heard from or seen your Miss Sutton. I shall personally deliver the news to your door if we find anything at all.” He grumpily continued to riffle through a stack of parchment on his desk that sat facing the front door.

The old shop that a merchant had once used now consisted of shelves of ledgers that harboured the detailed notes of wanted or apprehended criminals in London. The smell of flour and salt still lingered in the air if one was inclined to give the room a good sniff.

Henry bit back his frustration with the older man and forced a smile. “I understand, Mr Hayworth. I am here to ask if one of your men, preferably a more experienced man, would be able to join me on a little excursion. I think I may know where we should be looking. I didn’t think it wise for me to be tackling this endeavour on my own.”

Mr Hayworth looked up at Henry with a tired shake of his head. The weariness in his light brown eyes and the unkempt appearance of his wild, bushy hair, spoke of the hours he’d spent behind his desk. “All of the men are busy at present, but if you must take someone with you, our newest recruit is in need of some training. He hasn’t had any experience, but he’s a fair hand at finding out information.”

“Is there really nobody else? This matter is quite important …”

“Taking George is my final offer; take it or leave it,” Mr Hayworth snapped before turning his attention back to the stack of papers on his desk.

Realizing that he had made quite a nuisance of himself over the past two weeks, he conceded to the offer. “Oh, very well,” Henry replied irritably, tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor.

I’ll take what I can get at this point.

“George, I have a case for you!” Mr Hayworth called to the back of the shop without lifting his head.

A few moments passed before a young, dishevelled-looking young man with tatty clothes appeared from behind a door. “You called for me, Mr Hayworth?” He seemed quite well-spoken and enthusiastic despite his appearance.

“Yes, Lord Ashford here requires your assistance. You may go with him,” Mr Hayworth answered in a tired voice and waved them both away with a flick of his wrist.

The man named George turned to Henry with a respectful bow. “I am at your assistance, My Lord. This will be about Miss Sutton, who climbed from her bedroom window, not two weeks ago?” His dark brown eyes examined Henry’s face as if the words were written in his expressions.

“You are familiar with the case then?” Henry felt a little impressed regardless of the man’s appearance.

“I am in training, My Lord. It is my job to keep my eyes and ears open at all times. I am familiar with all the current cases we have.” His monosyllabic replies made Henry feel as if he were talking to some kind of news outlet rather than an actual person.

“Very well, I think we are stuck with each other then. I am on my way to visit someone. I would like you to join me and go along with my lead,” Henry informed the man.

George simply nodded with a pained expression as if he were doing some rather difficult arithmetic.

God help us all.

Henry began to wonder if he had done the right thing in coming to ask for help. By the looks of things, he may have been better off tackling the task on his own, but then again, he didn’t know what kind of welcome he would receive when he reached the house. It was better to have George at his side rather than nobody at all.

***

“Is the Baron Sutton home at present?” Henry asked the friendly-faced footman who answered the door.

“He is, My Lord. Would you like to wait in the parlour while I let him know that you are here, Lord Ashford?” The man’s light blue eyes scanned the man behind Henry’s back.

He knows who I am.

Henry wasn’t certain at all if the knowledge spelled something good for him or not. “Yes, thank you, my ‘friend,’ and I shall wait in the parlour.” He pushed past the young man and gestured for George to follow before the footman could protest.

Inside the house, Henry looked around for any kind of clue that could lead him to Isabelle. He had never been in the house before, yet nothing seemed out of place or strange. Everything seemed just as bland and plain as he’d imagined.

The main entrance hall was sparsely decorated with minimal furnishings besides a small side table with a lamp and a few old vases.

“This way, My Lord.” The footman gestured for them to follow him into a small room off the hall.

The room in question was almost as sparsely decorated as the hall outside. The chairs and chaise longue were covered with fine green felt while a small pianoforte stood in the corner of the room. Henry’s mind wandered to Isabelle and how he could picture her playing the pianoforte on a lazy afternoon.

“I shall just let his lordship know that you are here.” The footman excused himself before inviting the men to take a seat.

It was odd to Henry that the footman seemed eager to help, yet he couldn’t linger on the thought for too long.

George looked rather uncomfortable and out of place before Henry turned to him with an air of urgency.

“I would like you to go upstairs and look for Miss Sutton’s room. I have never been to this house until now, so I cannot tell you which room it will be, but if I know Miss Sutton, you are looking for a room with enough books to resemble a small library. We are looking for any clue that will tell us where she would have gone,” he spoke in an urgent whisper.

Nodding in understanding, George glanced at the room before heading back out the door.

I hope he doesn’t get caught.

Henry’s palms began to sweat as he rubbed them against the side of his breeches. He knew what he was doing wasn’t right, but he also knew that nobody in the family would have permitted him to search Isabelle’s chambers. He was doing what needed to be done for Isabelle’s sake.

A few moments passed before the door to the parlour swung open again.

“Lord Ashford, I was wondering when I would be seeing you again. Have you come to lead more members of my family astray? I know my fiancée has been quite disgruntled with me of late, will you convince her to run away as well?” Richard lifted his arms in the air as if he were about to embrace his guest.

The strong smell of whisky that permeated the air let Henry know that Richard was a few glasses away from making terrible decisions.

His dishevelled hair and robe that had been thrown over his clothes spoke of the sleepless nights he’d been enduring. Although he wasn’t drunk, Henry realized he needed to proceed with caution in Richard’s presence.

“Good morning, My Lord. I am sorry for the circumstances of my visit, but I am here to discuss Isabelle and how we can find her.” Henry pushed the man’s insults aside and kept him busy for as long as he could.

Richard gave him a strange look before heading over to the chaise longue and taking a seat. “I’m afraid that I do not know where my sister is, Lord Ashford, and if you do not know where she is, I am afraid that she has disappeared off the face of the Earth.” His eyes were sad and tired as he attempted to focus on Henry.

Feeling a pang of pity towards the man, Henry decided to address the matter directly while he waited. Nothing had been set in stone when he’d set out that morning, but he now realized he needed more of a plan. “Richard, if you don’t mind me addressing you by your given name?”

Richard simply nodded tiredly before raking his fingers through his hair. “Who cares about propriety and familiarity when the world is upside down?”

“I think there is a way for you to let your sister know that it is safe for her to return home. You must put an ad in the papers saying that the wedding has been called off. If Isabelle reads that notice, I am more than certain that she would return home at once,” Henry said decisively, hoping that Richard was in the right frame of mind to help him.

Slapping his knees, Richard scoffed. “I couldn’t do that now even if I wanted to. If Isabelle does not go through with the wedding, Lord James will ruin us all.” His response brought a frown to Henry’s brow.

“But surely there are other ways to help your family? Can Isabelle not marry a wealthy man of her own choosing?” His own words caused an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach.

What if she does choose to marry somebody other than James?

The thought had barely taken root when Richard scoffed once again. “You really don’t understand any of it. If anything happens before James and Isabelle are married, my life will be in danger as well. Lord James will have to get rid of me along with …” His words trailed off when a loud commotion floated down the stairs.

The sounds of a scuffle made Henry realize that his time in the house was quickly coming to an end; whether Richard wanted to help him or not, he needed to leave. Jumping to his feet, Henry was about to leave the room when Richard blocked his path.

“Thief! There is a thief in the house!” a frantic maid began to scream as she ran down the stairs.

“What have you done? Have you brought a spy into my house?!” Richard clumsily gripped Henry’s lapels in an attempt to drag him to the floor.

Acting quickly with the advantage of a sober mind, Henry countered the attack and pushed Richard aside just as they both tumbled to the ground in opposite directions.

Richard cursed under his breath as a large vase fell from a table and shattered on his hand. “I’ll show you what will happen if you think you can bring a strange man into this house!” He jumped to his feet and readied himself to lunge at Henry with a shard of the broken glass.

Everything happened within the space of a few moments as Henry jumped to his feet, avoiding the shard just as he caught a glimpse of George exiting through the front door. A sharp pain shot through his thigh, making him wince as he attempted to escape. Pausing for a moment to look back, Henry noted that Richard had slumped into a chair after nearly colliding with the wall.

“What have I done? I only wanted my sister back. How could I have allowed things to get this far out of hand?” Richard buried his face in his hands and sobbed, shaking his head repeatedly with pitiful moans.

It took Henry a moment to realize he was free to leave before he hobbled towards the front door with his hand on his thigh.

None of the shocked servants seemed to try and stop him, yet the kind footman eyed him with suspicion as he let Henry pass through the front door.

Out on the street, George signalled to him from an alley a few buildings down.

Henry wasted no time in hobbling towards the man after checking that they weren’t being followed. “Did you find anything at all?” he asked George almost as soon as he entered the alley.

Nodding, George pulled a scrap of paper from his breast pocket. “I found a room that matched your description. It struck me as odd that there weren’t as many books as you said there would have been. I poked around for a few moments before realizing that a very heavy trunk that had been standing in the corner of the room was no longer there. Beside the impression on the carpet was this scrap of paper. It seems as if Miss Sutton had been making a detailed note of booksellers and how much each would pay her for a specific book.”

Henry accepted the scrap of paper and glanced at the neat, detailed writing.

“I also found it very strange that all the books she is attempting to sell have the exact same title. It seems to be a war novel of sorts,” George added with a frown.

What is she planning?

The pit of his stomach churned uneasily with fear as he wondered what had happened to her. Had she planned on running away with her belongings? Perhaps she had taken the stack of revenge books as a memento of their time together. His heart clenched with guilt as he thought of her climbing from her window.

“It doesn’t strike me as strange at all. Thank you for your help; you have been more helpful than you will ever know. You may return to Mr Hayworth now and tell him that our little mystery is all but solved.” He folded the scrap of paper and placed it in his breast pocket.

“If you are sure, My Lord?” George asked him with a confused frown.

“I am. I know all the booksellers and I also know that there is one in particular that would be able to tell me if Isabelle mentioned where she was going.” Henry was about to turn and leave when he stopped and looked back at the man, whom he had judged unworthy because of his appearance. “You know, George, I think you will make a fine constable someday. If I am ever in need again, I shall personally request your assistance in particular. The Bow Street Runners, as well the people of London, are lucky to count you among their ranks.”

Geroge’s face cracked into a bright smile that changed his appearance entirely. “Thank you, My Lord.”

Returning the man’s smile, Henry set out with his limp, clutching the scrap of paper to his chest. He was more than certain that he would find Isabelle before the sunset.

Wait for me. I’m almost there.