Wedding In Springtime(51)

"Could I wait for him? Pockets to let."
         

     



 
The lad sized him up, then nodded and led him to a small, dark room behind a door in the paneling. "Wait here."

Grant sat at the table of the dim room until he heard other customers  enter the shop and figured the lad would be busy. He opened the door on  the other side of the room. It could not be a coincidence that Genie had  visited a chocolate shop that doubled as what appeared to be a  moneylender. Did she need money? Was that why she pretended to take the  letter?

He sneaked out the door on the other side of the small room and found  himself in a corridor. Down the hall were the sounds of the kitchens  with people chatting through their work. He supposed making the  chocolate and the sweets took considerable effort.

He opened the door across from him and entered a small study. He  searched the papers and found ledgers of sales, but nothing of  particular interest. On a hidden shelf behind the desk, he found a  ledger of monies loaned to men and women who had fallen on hard luck. He  raised an eyebrow at some familiar names, but the name of Genie Talbot  was not among them.

He cautiously opened the door once more and edged down the corridor  closer to the kitchens. On the left was another door and he quickly  dashed to it. Opening the door, he found a staircase leading down to the  cellar. He closed the door behind him and slowly crept down the stairs  into the gloom.

***

"I should thank you for interposing yourself today," said Marchford.  "Your knowledge of the location of Dr. Robert's place of business is  helpful."

"I would say you're welcome, but I do not think it was a compliment," said Penelope, sitting next to him on the phaeton.

"I thought we had an agreement that you would tell me relevant  information. You have clearly been here before. Did you not think my  fiancée's husband would be relevant to me?"

"I did not know she was married," Penelope defended herself. "I did know  she was interested in Dr. Roberts, but I did not know the extent of the  relationship. How do you feel about this turn of events?"

"I wish she had told me before I announced a ball in her honor. Going to  be dashed awkward." Marchford steered deftly through the crowded London  streets.

"Here we are, on the left. What is your plan now?" asked Penelope.

Marchford pulled up in front of the respectable house in a nicer part of  Town. He left Penelope's question hanging in the air, since he did not  know the answer himself. Inside the residence, the young man in the  apothecary attempted to tell them the doctor was unavailable, but  Marchford ignored him. If there was a time to break social convention,  this must be it.

"I believe his living quarters are upstairs," said Penelope.

Marchford did not wait but bounded up the stairs with the shop clerk  right behind, demanding he stop. Marchford burst through a door and got  lucky. Dr. Roberts stood in the drawing room.

"Your Grace," said the good doctor. "It is quite all right," said the  good doctor to his shop clerk, who glared at the interlopers but left  the room.

Face to face with one of the doctors who had attempted to save his  brother's life, memories of sickbeds, treatments, and medicine flooded  Marchford, rendering him speechless.

"Dr. Roberts, I don't think we have formally met," said Penelope, noting  the silence in the room and taking command. "I am Penelope Rose, the  new companion to the Dowager Duchess of Marchford."

"A pleasure." Dr. Roberts bowed.

Penelope's sensible tone snapped Marchford back to the present. "Dr.  Roberts, I do thank you once again for doing all you could for my  brother," said Marchford, finding his voice. "But I am here on a  different errand." He cleared his throat, wondering how to begin. "I  understand you may know the location of Lady Louisa."

"I am sorry I cannot help," said the doctor. "I have not seen her since her last visit."

"Dr. Roberts, I think the time has passed for charade. I need to speak  to Lady Louisa." Marchford spoke with the authority of a duke.

"I am sorry," said Dr. Roberts firmly.

"Dr. Roberts, I am not here to stop Louisa. I simply would like to talk to her."

"I am here," said Louisa, emerging from a side door. She appeared calm but clutched her reticule with white knuckles.

Marchford took a deep breath. "Is it true you are married to Dr. Roberts?"

Dr. Roberts stood beside her and took her hand. The answer was clear.

"I understand," said Marchford. He should feel disappointed, but the only thing flooding his heart was relief.

"We need to think strategy," said Penelope. "Running away will not enhance the social credit of either one of you."         

     



 

Marchford glanced at Penelope, amused by her direct manner. It was a  relief to have someone willing to state the plain truth without preamble  or apology.

"Do you think there is any way my parents will accept my marriage to Dr. Roberts?" asked Louisa.

"There must be," declared Marchford. "And so we will find it."

***

Grant crept down the stairs. Ahead was a dim light in the cellar. He  crept around the corner and found …  nothing. A high, street-level window  provided some light to inspect the room. It had cartons of flour and  sugar and other ingredients, but otherwise there was nothing of  interest.

He walked back up the stairs, not exactly sure what he was hoping to  find. He opened the door slowly to find the surprised form of Mr.  Blakely.

"Mr. Blakely? What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Grant!" Blakely clenched his jaw. "I could ask you the same question."

"Cards got you all rolled up?" asked Grant. Mr. Blakely's appearance was  slightly less than his usual lack of polish. Had the man gambled  himself out of the good sense to correctly tie a cravat?

Blakely gave a nervous smile. "Don't tell me you're run off your legs."

"Nothing like that. Looking for Miss Talbot actually. Found she had come here. Know anything about it?"

"Sorry, I don't. If she was looking for a loan, she might have gone to  another lender I know about. I told her about it once. Never thought she  would acquaint herself with it."

"What interesting conversations you must have had. Can you tell me where this is?"

"I'll do one better and take you there," said Blakely.

Grant followed Blakely out of the chocolate shop, across the street, and  down a side alley not even wide enough for two to walk abreast. Blakely  stopped at a cellar door.

"I've heard a moneylender operates in this cellar as well." Blakely paused as if nervous to continue.

"I'll give it a go," said Grant. He slowly opened the cellar door.  "Hello!" he called but got no reply. He carefully crept in a few steps.  "Hello!" he called again.

"Grant?" came a female voice from the darkness.

"Genie?" shouted Grant. He stumbled forward into the dark cellar. "Genie are you there?"

"Yes, only do be careful!" cried Genie.

Running forward, Grant could see her now, tied to a chair. "I have found  you!" Relief to see her alive was mixed with a panic to help her escape  immediately.

"Careful, there are other people in the cellar!" cried Genie.

Grant was grabbed by several pairs of hands. He prepared to strike but  saw he was being attacked by children, dirty street urchins. He checked  his swing and tried to push them away. He took out his penknife to cut  Genie's bonds but was attacked again and so he merely put the knife in  her hand.

"Let go!" he demanded. "Blakely, I've found Genie. Get help!"

More dropped on him from above, one covered his mouth with a foul  smelling cloth. He was able to free himself but not before spots of  light flashed before his eyes.

The room spun and he fought against the encroaching darkness. Mr. Blakely appeared before him, holding a club.

"Don't trust him!" called Genie.

But it was too late. The club came down hard.

Grant never felt the impact.





Thirty-four


"If you would, could you inform my grandmother of the latest  developments? I will be in my study," said Marchford as he pulled the  phaeton into the drive of his London estate.

"I can only assume you are in jest," said Penelope.

"I do not jest."

"You expect me to break the news that your intended has married the  family physician instead?" Penelope and Marchford had convinced the  illicit couple not to run but to give Marchford a chance to explain the  situation to Louisa's parents. They even agreed to come to the ball if  the duke thought it would be helpful. Penelope was not sure how  Marchford was going to manage getting Lord Bremerton to accept the  marriage, but she was interested in seeing him try.

"She would take it better from you," said Marchford jumping down from the phaeton.

"No, you would take it better if you were not there when she was informed."