Page 75 of The Muse of Maiden Lane

“It means that wherever you end up, you’ll require a coach house and a stable. Either that or a livery stable nearby. Keeping a horse in London is no small expense.”

“Two horses,” Teddy said, recalling Stella’s advice. “Horses are herd animals. I have it on good authority that it’s cruel to keep one alone.”

“Another expense to keep in mind as you look at properties.”

“I’m keeping a thorough mental accounting.”

Jennings assisted Teddy out of his chair. Hoisting him by the waist, he lifted him up onto the leather padded driver’s seat of the wagonette.

“All right, sir?” Jennings asked.

“Right enough,” Teddy said. He straightened himself on the seat, carefully positioning his legs in front of him, before taking the reins from the groom.

He’d driven the wagonette around the park when he’d tested it before buying it, but driving down the busy streets of London’s commercial district was quite another proposition. A flicker of apprehension made his fingers curl tighter on the leathers. He had no desire to find himself pitched out, helpless, onto the paving stones.

Jennings placed Teddy’s wheeled chair in the back of the wagonette before climbing into the back himself.

“Alex and your sister will be returning from Harley Street at any moment,” Tom said. “Are you sure you won’t wait for one of them to accompany you? I know they’d like to view any potential lodgings.”

Teddy was certain they would. He was equally certain that none of the premises he had in mind would meet with their approval. Especially not now that Laura was beginning to feel the effects of her delicate condition.

Approaching the third month of her pregnancy, her bouts of morning sickness had only increased. Alex had insisted they consult with a physician while they were in town. One of those highbrow society accoucheurs who would insist on wrapping Laura in cottonwool. The very sort of man whose restrictions would further serve to impinge on? Teddy’s grasp for independence.

“No, thank you,” he said. “I’ve an appointment with Mr. Chakrabarty in Newman Street. I’m already cutting it rather fine.”

“Very well.” Tom backed away from the wagonette. “But take care, Teddy. London isn’t Grasse. It isn’t even Paris. I should know. I’ve traversed the worst of these streets. You don’t want to find yourself at the end of the wrong alleyway.”

“Jennings can handle himself.” Teddy urged the dozing Samuel into a walk. The wagonette gave a rattle before lurching forward into the street.

“Give Chakrabarty my regards,” Tom called after him.

“I shall!” Teddy replied.

It was Tom who had provided Teddy with the introduction. Mr. Chakrabarty was himself a solicitor, with premises in Regent Street. He dealt primarily with estate matters, acting in the role of agent for various properties in London, and was reputed to have more than a passing familiarity with the art community.

Teddy navigated his new wagonette through the midday traffic, steering Samuel in the direction of the British Museum. The house in Newman Street was the first property he would be visiting today, and, if the solicitor had taken Teddy’s list of requirements into account, hopefully the last.

On arriving in front of the house’s imposing redbrick façade, he found Mr. Chakrabarty waiting. He was a short, stocky gentleman, with an air of impatient efficiency.

“Mr. Hayes, I presume,” he said as Teddy brought his wagonette to a halt. He stepped up to the driver’s bench to meet him. “How do you do, sir?”

“Mr. Chakrabarty.” Teddy shook the man’s hand. “Sorry for the delay. The traffic around Oxford Street was rather worse than I anticipated.”

Mr. Chakrabarty nodded in sympathy. “A perpetual challenge, the congestion in London. One must accustom oneself.”

Jennings hopped out of the back of the wagonette. He lifted Teddy’s chair down to the street and wheeled it up alongside the driver’s bench.

“You have your manservant, I see,” Mr. Chakrabarty said. “Could Mr. Finchley not accompany you?”

“He isn’t involved in my letting a place,” Teddy said. “But he does send his regards.”

“An excellent fellow, Mr. Finchley. You take care to tell him that I’ve done right by you.”

“I shall.” Teddy looked up at the towering building. “Is this the house?”

“It is, sir,” Mr. Chakrabarty said. “Are you able to come inside? Perhaps if your man would help you?”

“Quite.” Setting the brake and tying off the reins, Teddy motioned to Jennings.