A Passion for Pleasure(22)
She had so desperately wanted to believe he could help her, yet that belief had been tangled up in her memories of his goodness and generosity. And while she still believed he would assist her in any way he could, for she could not imagine anything less of him, she needed more from him than he might be prepared to give.
Unless she could offer him something in return, and now he had told her exactly what that might be. If she found the plans he sought, she had all the pieces necessary to strike a bargain with him.
Wakefield House belonged to her. Although the courts had decreed that she couldn’t sell it or bequeath it to anyone else, she could ensure that the law transfer it to someone else’s name.
Sebastian’s name. There was nothing to prohibit him from then giving the property to her father with the proposition that he release Andrew to her custody.
Clara pressed a hand to her chest. A tremble, both exhilarating and terrifying, swept through her down to her toes.
She needed to marry Sebastian Hall.
Chapter Four
Uncle Granville, they must be here.” Clara peeled back the flaps of the box and looked inside. She had spent most of the afternoon since Sebastian’s departure rummaging through the boxes and crates stacked in her uncle’s workshop.
“My dear, if Monsieur Dupree intended to send me something important, he certainly would have given me some forewarning,” Granville said.
“There was no letter?” Clara lifted a stack of papers from the box.
“Not that I’m aware of.” Granville cracked open a crate to reveal several coils of copper wire and drawplates. “Could be any number of things, really. Bit of a collector, Dupree. He always said he never knew when he might need something, so he wasn’t apt to throw things away.”
“He gave things away, though.” Clara removed another sheaf of papers from the box and leafed through them. “To you, at least. Do you think he sent anything to his other apprentices?”
“Couldn’t say.” Granville shrugged. “He had a number of them, though, so it’s certainly likely. But plans for a telegraph machine…” He shook his head. “Can’t think of a reason he’d send them to me, in all honesty. I’m sure several of his other apprentices were more well-versed in telegraph machines and the like.”
“Do you correspond with the others?” Clara asked, even though her heart began a steady drop to her stomach. “Can we write and ask them if they’ve received any such specifications?”
“We can try, yes.” Granville frowned.
They both knew that such a course would take an indeterminate amount of time, and the result might well prove fruitless. And the more time they wasted, the longer Andrew would remain under Fairfax’s hand.
Clara gripped the side of a crate so hard that a splinter pierced her palm. She gripped harder, welcoming the pain to try to distract the wave of rage. She did not know how much longer she could bear it—not knowing how her father was treating Andrew or even how her son fared.
“Uncle Granville.”
“Yes?”
Clara detached her hand from the crate and rubbed the bleeding wound in her palm. “I must find the plans.” She waved a hand to encompass the numerous crates and boxes cluttering the room. “I don’t know that I’ll even recognize them if I find them, but I have to look.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll help.” Granville straightened and removed his glasses, polishing the lenses on his shirt. “But, Clara, if Monsieur Dupree did send me the plans, he had a reason for doing so. I’m not certain handing them over to Sebastian Hall is a wise idea.”
“What if it helps me get Andrew back?”
“How can Mr. Hall help you get Andrew back?”
“I don’t know that he can.” Clara bit her bottom lip, unsettled by the confession. As simple as the arrangement sounded, there was no guarantee her father would actually accept Wakefield House in exchange for Andrew.
On the other hand, Fairfax had been fighting hard to get his hands on the property. And Clara had nothing left to lose.
“Go to your father first,” Granville urged, his blue eyes filled with concern. “Ask him to agree to the bargain. You needn’t take such drastic measures yet.”
“He won’t see me,” Clara said. “Even if he did, what if he took exception to Sebastian’s involvement? What if he tried to stop it?” She shook her head. “No. When I approach my father again, I must be able to offer him Wakefield House. If I have no leverage, he’ll think nothing of shutting me out again.”