A Wedding In Springtime(102)

“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.”

“As I said.”

“Your Grace,” ground out Penelope as she accepted Marchford’s assistance from the high phaeton.

“I need to be available should a message come.”

“You expect someone to contact you?” asked Penelope. They had been able to talk briefly in the phaeton and Marchford had explained that Genie, for reasons not yet ascertained, had stolen the seal to the paper Marchford had been guarding.