No.He would not discuss this with her. Robert interrupted with the next thought in his mind. “Speaking of information, what do you know about Lady Eloise Surrey?”
Rose reared back, her eyes narrowing. “Why? What do you know? What have you heard?”
He blinked, confused by her reaction. “What? I don’t—she’s been Lydia’s chaperone all these weeks, but I came across her last night at the modiste’s when Lydia sent me on some fool errand to pick up a dress. She was apparently helping the woman with her accounts. I found that fascinating. Why did you ask it like that?”
Rose remained silent a moment, studying his face. “So you haven’t heard?”
He shook his head. “Heard what?”
Slowly, Rose reached into her skirt pocket and removed a crumpled piece of foolscap. “You should read this.”
*
Eloise stood nextto the window in the drawing room, staring out at the light morning traffic of carriages and riders, trying to let the rhythmic sounds of wheels and hooves on cobblestones distract her. In a similar effort, one fingernail pressed into the palm of her hand in an attempt to avoid either crying or screaming. Neither would be appropriate or helpful, even though she desperately wanted to do to both, shortly followed by wringing the neck of Constable Lewis, who had tried to placate her father with platitudes and rationalizations such as “Young men always want to try some new adventure” and “He will return shortly with sour breath and a banging head, none the worse for wear.” The one that finally made her swing around to pin him with a glare ended with “He’ll wake up on some whore’s bed, convinced he’s now a man.” The constable met her frigid stare with a touch on the brim of his hat, which still resided atop his head. “Pardon, ma’am.”
The Earl of Pentney was none too pleased with the constable either. “Lord Timothy is my son and my heir, and his behavior has always been above reproach. Covent Garden is a dangerous place for a young man of the aristocracy. Cutthroats are everywhere. What about press gangs? He could have fallen prey to anything.”
Lewis nodded, tugging at one lapel. “Yes, my lord. But the Royal Navy hasn’t used press gangs in more than a decade. The other shippers... maybe. But I can’t see them snatching a boy who looks like the son of an earl.”
“He did not.” Eloise stepped away from the window.
The two men looked at her. “I beg your pardon.” The constable looked as confused as he sounded.
She really did want to strangle him. “It was the idea of one of his friends. That they would be less likely targets for cutpurses and kidnappers if they didn’t look like aristocrats. They borrowed clothes from some of their servants. They didn’t dress like young heirs. They looked like servants.”
Her father squeezed his eyes shut as the constable shifted from one foot to another. “Have you... have you talked to those friends of his?”
Percival Surrey’s voice was low, tightly controlled. “I sent messages to their parents this morning, but I doubt either family is fully awake yet.”
Lewis nodded. “If you will give me their directions, I will talk to them right away. They may tell me things they would not be willing to share with you.” He glanced at Eloise. “With Society, um, protocols, and all.”
“Of course.”
Eloise took another step closer. “And you will check with the gambling dens? I know Campion’s is one of the largest, with a brothel attached. And a boxing salon. Either might have attracted the boys.”
Both men stared at her, and the constable cleared his throat. “How would you—” His words faltered as Eloise narrowed her eyes.
If you ask me how I know that, I swear I will snatch that hat off your head and beat you senseless with it.
The earl cleared his throat. “My daughter has some unconventional friends, Constable Lewis. But you will keep us informed.”
It was a dismissal, and the constable caught the meaning. “Of course, my lord. As soon as I know anything, you will know.”
“Mullens will provide you with the directions.”
Constable Lewis backed toward the door. “I’ll see to it.” Then he turned and left.
Her father shook his head. “You did not help, Eloise. A man like that does not take kindly to being told how to do his job. Especially by a woman.”
She crossed to him. “Then he should have acted like a man who knows how to actually do his job. He was patronizing you!”
“It is not uncommon among his kind, Eloise. They love to take a poke at the restrictions we set upon ourselves. And Timothy has been gone less than twelve hours.”
Eloise crossed her arms. “Plenty of time for something to have gone dreadfully wrong.”
“Please do not start sounding like your mother. I do not think I could bear that right now.”
Eloise relented. “I’m sorry, Papa. I just do not—whydid he have to do this?”
