Page 86 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

The grandfather clock struck one.

‘It is late,’ Ashford said. ‘Let us retire.’

The library felt colder as they wound their way back through the bookcases and along the corridor. They climbed the staircase in silence, save for the swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of Ashford’s slippers. He paused when they reached the second-floor landing.

‘I trust you can find your bedchamber from here?’ He spoke with all the politeness, as if they were concluding a formal promenade in Hyde Park. ‘Or do you require further escort?’

Lydia sniffed. ‘I do not. Besides, if we were seen, people might think us in the middle of some sort of – of assignation.’

In the flickering light of their candles, he gazed down at her, expression unreadable. Without quite knowing why, Lydia flushed.

‘Which would be – be disgusting!’ she added, rallying.

Ashford raised his brows, but otherwise made no reply, and the silence lingered for a long moment. Why did this feel so much more intimate than sitting in the library together?

‘Well, goodnight,’ she whispered.

Without waiting for an answer, she hastened down the corridor towards her bedchamber. She was about to push open her door when she heard a faint rustling sound up ahead then the door to the servant’s staircase opened and out popped Pip, closely followed by Elspeth.

‘Hallo!’ he whispered in greeting.

‘What are you doing?’ she said, glancing back to check Ashford was out of sight. ‘You have not been searching bedchambers at this time of night, have you?’

Lydia had visions of Pip breaking in on their fellow guests in various Intimate Moments and shuddered.

‘No,’ he said. ‘But it’s a good time to search the rest of the place, isn’t it? No one about. Stands to reason.’

For the first time, she noticed both Pip and Elspeth’s hands were covered in flecks of ash.

‘Have you been rooting around in the fires?’

‘Looking for clues,’ he explained. ‘Sort of thing people do – burning things, I mean – when they’re hiding something.’

‘Look what we found,’ whispered Elspeth, ‘in the dining room hearth!’

Pip’s worldly logic was eternally optimistic – and incomprehensibly, often true, for he opened his palm to reveal several fragments of parchment, yellowed and burnt.

Checking the corridor was still clear, Lydia opened the door to her room and ushered them both inside. She used her taper to light more candles while Pip deposited the fragments on her dressing table. Together, the three leant in closely, poring over the tatters. The letter was almost unreadable. The sender’s address – 16 Ravens Road, London – was visible, as was their signature, a Mr Villars, but for the contents of the letter, only a few phrases here and there were fully legible.

‘“Last chance to answer terms”,’ Lydia read, frowning and bringing the scrap even closer to her face. ‘“Leave us no choice” “Lord something” – Pip, what is this?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But fact is, sounds awfully close to blackmail. And …’

He put his finger to the page, over a word Lydia had hardly been able to make out.

‘Diamonds,’ she breathed. ‘To whom do you think it was addressed?’

Elspeth and Pip exchanged glances.

‘He says “Lord”,’ Pip said. ‘Stands to reason that can only be three persons.’

‘And Mr Hanworth has already searched Hesse and Dacre’s rooms,’ added Elspeth. ‘Which only leaves …’

Lydia balked. ‘Ashford? I hardly think he is the thief.’

For all of Ashford’s faults, thievery was surely not one of them.

‘Why not?’ Pip said. ‘He needs a fortune, doesn’t he?’