She watched in silence, then turned to Thomas. ‘May I ask what is going on, please?’
‘I paid a visit to the constable,’ he said, putting a healthy dollop of jam on his crumpet. ‘I explained that I was visiting here incognito when he was summoned to put me out of the house.I was prepared to overlook being thrown into a hedge like a common ruffian, if he would help me today.’
‘That does not explain the clock,’ she said.
He held up a finger, indicating that she must hold her questions while he chewed and swallowed.
‘I told him I was coming with a few men and some wagons to remove your possessions from the house, since we were about to marry.’
‘You did what?’ she exclaimed.
He smiled at her. ‘We came here under that pretence, did we not?’
‘That was not you.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Of course it was. There is no Tom Smith, you know. It has always been me.’
‘I see,’ she said, stifling a delighted smile.
‘While we are enjoying our breakfast, the constable is informing your grandfather of our plans.’ He glanced towards the ceiling as a cane thumped angrily on the floor.
‘Now, he is looking out of the front window at the wagons on the drive and the gentleman carrying his precious possessions away.’
There was a crash as something was dropped and hit the marble floor somewhere in the house.
Thomas smiled wickedly. ‘I hope that was not something valuable.’
‘I hope it was,’ Louisa said, unable to contain her glee.
Somewhere, her grandfather was shouting. He was getting steadily louder as he approached.
‘Was my distraction sufficient?’ he asked, winking at her.
‘We shall see,’ she replied.
A moment later, her grandfather burst through the door of the dining room, dressing gown flapping and head darting wildly from side to side as he tried to decide who he was going to blame.
‘Louisa!’
‘Yes, Grandfather?’ she said sweetly.
‘Go to your room! I will deal with you later.’
‘Of course,’ she said and ran for the main stairs. She hurried up them, stopping when she reached her grandfather’s room and stood in the doorway, considering the space.
The windows looked out over the front of the house. The sill was no deeper than the one in her room. She doubted there were any hidden spaces there. All the same, she walked over to it and looked behind each picture and ornament, examining frames and backings for anything unusual. The opposite wall separated the room from the hallway. She could see by the doorway and the straight expanse on either side of it that there could be nothing concealed there either.
Then, she turned to the side walls. The house was too new to have a priest hole. The plaster was smooth and unmarked on both sides, with no woodwork or panelling that might hide a safe or slide away to reveal a cupboard. She turned over more pictures and spent some time feeling the frame of the cheval glass. It looked too narrow to hold more than a single sheet of paper. The back was smooth and blank and the legs did not sound hollow when she tapped them.
The fireplace was next. It would be inconvenient, and possibly dangerous, to hide something flammable inside it. The mantlepiece was stone, not wood, and a solid piece of marble was too large to slide or lift. None of the bricks on the sides were loose. The mortar was intact and she could find no chinks.
This left the furniture to be searched. There was a wardrobe, of course, and a bureau with drawers. But grandfather’s valet had access to those spaces and might find anything hidden there. He would also be the first to notice if she disordered the linens while searching.
The only thing remaining was the bed.
She smiled. It made sense that if he had something important that he did not wish to share he would keep it very close. He might have it to fondle and crow over but could conceal it quickly if he feared discovery.
This bed had been one of the many things he’d purchased and he’d probably used her money to do it. The solid mahogany posts were carved in heavy spirals and the dark headboard was nearly six feet tall. The style was Tudor with velvet hangings that were more appropriate for a king than a baron. She could easily imagine Henry the Eighth sharing it with one of his many queens.
