My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)(30)

“Say no more!” Alexander grabbed his luggage out from under the bed and opened the lid. “Return to your room. As soon as it’s dawn”—which wasn’t far off—“I’ll go to the school and request Miss Eyre’s forwarding address. You’re to remain here and gather your things. As soon as I’ve interviewed every girl and ghost in Lowood and know where Miss Eyre has gone, we’ll go after her.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Blackwood. I thought—”

“Not now, Mr. Branwell. Return to your room and get some rest. I’ll fetch you when it’s time.” How would he explain Branwell’s behavior to Wellington? It was bad enough to tell the duke that Branwell was a mediocre agent with no potential for advancement, but to tell the duke that his nephew might have caused a scandal?

But oh, what fire his return would add to the girls’ theories of romance. He shuddered, remembering his previous visits.

Was it worth it to discover the whereabouts of Jane Eyre?

Probably.

Maybe.

Branwell slouched toward the door, pulled it open, and stopped short. “Oh. Charlie. Hello?”

And now someone named Charlie was here?

This was why Alexander preferred to work alone.

He dropped his clothes back into his suitcase and looked up to find Branwell throwing his arms around a young woman in the corridor.

And worse, she returned the embrace.

Beneath his mask, his face flushed. A young lady was hugging his apprentice. Of all people. Such a blatant display of affection! At this hour! In the hallway!! (In pre-Victorian times, and also Victorian times, and for quite some time later, even hugging was considered Too Much. And yes, Hallway Hugging definitely deserved two exclamation points.) Even when they finished hugging, the two stepped back to hold hands. That’s when Alexander saw that the young woman was Charlotte Bront?, from Lowood.

“Why did you come here?” Branwell asked, grinning at her.

“And how long have you been standing outside the door?” Alexander crossed his arms, rather wishing he’d slept in his shirt and trousers, too. His long nightshirt felt awfully revealing at the moment.

“A short while.” She broke away from Branwell and lifted her glasses back to her face to peer down at her notebook. “Just long enough to overhear you’re going to interview every girl and ghost in Lowood school in order to find out where Jane Eyre has gone. And here I am, ready to be interviewed.”

Alexander frowned, first at Miss Bront?, then at Branwell. “You two know each other?”

“Of course!” Branwell grinned. “I’ve known Charlie—”

“Don’t call me Charlie.”

“—my whole life!”

Wellington was going to kill Alexander for this.

“Charlotte is my sister, Mr. Blackwood.”

Alexander’s mouth dropped open. “But how?”

“Well, sir, when two consenting adults—”

“Stop!” Alexander could see the resemblance now, though. They were both small of stature but big in excitement. They had similar noses and skin tones, and wide eyes that tried to take in everything. “What I meant was, Mr. Branwell—”

Miss Bront? burst with laughter. “Mr. Branwell? Really?”

“Isn’t that your last name?” Alexander glared at Branwell. “Everyone calls you Branwell, and Branwell is a last name.”

“My name is Branwell Bront?, sir.”

Well, this was just embarrassing. First, that Branwell Bront? had a last name as a first name. Might as well call him Smith Smith. But even more, why had no one ever told Alexander? “Lord,” he muttered. “There are two of you.”

“Four, actually,” Branwell said. “You saw our sisters Emily and Annie at the school.”

“I’m so glad. Let’s try to get back on track.” Alexander shifted his glare to Miss Bront?. “Why are you here?”

“To help you, of course!” She smiled brightly. “You don’t have to go to the school again. I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

Oh, no.

“And I’ve realized,” she went on, “that if I’m to be your assistant, I must show initiative.”

Alexander scowled. “I already have an assistant.” Unfortunately.

“Right!” Miss Bront? pointed a finger at him, then turned to Branwell. “I’m going to be your assistant’s assistant.”

“I’d really rather you not.” His frown deepened, but Miss Bront? didn’t seem to notice.

“And when Jane is recruited and becomes a full agent, she’ll probably need an assistant, too, and I think she and I would make an excellent team.”

“We don’t even know where Miss Eyre has gone,” Alexander said.

“But, oh,” Miss Bront? said, “I do know.”

“Then tell me.”

“Let me come with you.” She stuffed her notebook and pen into her pocket. That was when he noticed the carpetbag resting at her feet. Packed for adventure, no doubt. “I’ll be an asset. You’ll see.”

“You’re definitely not coming with us,” Alexander said. “Not a chance.”

Reader, Miss Bront? definitely went with them.

Not that it had been easy for her. On their way downstairs and then out to the carriage, Alexander ran through the same few phrases several times: “Go home, Miss Bront?.”