Page 20 of Cousin Conundrum

By the time they stood together on the street outside Padgett’s unassuming London house, Fletcher’s expression had taken on a decidedly aggrieved cast. As Steven signaled to a waiting groom that he required his mount, Fletcher demanded, “Who is he, to order me not to assist in an investigation? Do you know how incompetent I am going to look when my fellows ask me for details on this case and I claim to have none?”

Steven grimaced, certain Padgett had some means by which to both see and hear them, and that didn’t even include the grooms who would bring around their horses. Padgett would know all that took place on the street outside his residence. “Perhaps you should take some time in the country as well. Invent an excuse and be scarce?”

“They know I was investigating the Peacock.” Fletcher waved a hand in the general direction of Madame Dentelle’s. “They know I had that modiste and the Hind and Hound surveilled. There is scant chance they will not hear about Madame Dentelle and her daughters disappearing, or that none of the patronesses of the shop will cause their husbands to hire Runners to look into the matter. What am I meant to say when asked for details?”

Steven slanted his gaze at the house before which they stood. “You are meant to give none. That was made very clear.”

Fletcher scrubbed a hand over his face. “Do you know how hard I worked to cause them to see past my birth and accept me?”

“No, but I know that threats issued inside that building are not idle.”

Fletcher scowled.

“Look, it was a pleasure working with you, Fletcher, no matter how it turned out,” Steven said. “You are good at what you do. I am certain your colleagues realize as much. This will pass.” Unlike Steven’s servitude, which would stretch out interminably.

The nod Fletcher gave to that was grudging, but at least he clamped his mouth closed as two of Padgett’s men came around the corner with their horses.

“Until we meet again.” Steven added a tip of his hat to that, then strode forward to receive his mount, done with trying to mollify Fletcher. He needed to get home to Louisa, to try to soothe her feelings over how he’d disappeared when they were meant to go out, and to come up with some reason for them to leave London.

He reached his London house to a general hubbub, servants racing about and the screech of his sister-by-marriage’s voice calling for her trunks somewhere above stairs. Steven handed over his gloves and hat, noting, “The place seems to be in a bit of an uproar.”

“Yes, sir.” His butler’s strict politeness rang with rebuke.

Steven imagined the whole house knew he’d dashed off minutes before he was meant to take Louisa on a ride through the park. “Mrs. Hurst is…?”

“I believe Mrs. Hurst is in her chambers, sir.”

“Thank you.” After shucking his greatcoat as well, Steven took the steps two at a time.

In the upper hall, footmen carried trunks into both Caroline’s room and Louisa’s, and Steven further hurried his stride. He burst into Louisa’s room to the sight of his wife and her maid laying out gowns.

“The russet one, Millie,” Louisa said, not looking at Steven though she could not have failed to notice his hurried entrance. “And the evergreen. Both will come with us.”

“Come with us?” Steven crossed to peck Louisa on the cheek.

She did not so much as glance at him. “Do not forget the matching slippers, Millie.”

“No, mum.” Millie, a tall lass of about seventeen, peered askance at Steven as she rummaged in Louisa’s wardrobe.

“Where are we going, dearest?” Steven asked doggedly.

“Charles has taken an estate in Hertfordshire for the remainder of the year.” Louisa still did not turn to him, but at least she answered. “Caroline and I are going to help him open the manor house. It is urgent as Mr. Darcy will join him shortly.”

“An estate in Hertfordshire?” Of all the good luck. “Splendid. When are we leaving?” Obviously shortly, given the state of the household.

“Millie, please excuse us.”

“Yes, mum.” Millie dropped a pair of brownish-red slippers onto the bed and hurried away.

Louisa finally pivoted to regard him, her expression flat. “Will you be joining us, then, Mr. Hurst?”

“Will I be…” She was very angry this time. “Certainly. Why would I not?”

“It simply seems to me that your interests lie in London.”

He struggled to contain a wince. “My interest is in being where you are, Louisa.”

“No. Your interest was in my dowry, and now lies in enjoying my brother’s hospitality.” She started to turn away.