Page 16 of The Lyon Rampant

“She’s been working in the kitchen at the Lyon’s Den.”

He waited, eyeing Chetwynd over the top of his tankard, to see what effect the information would have.

Chetwynd choked on his drink. “Why would she do that?”

“I have no idea—unless she’s somehow beholden to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. People often are. This could be why she’s remained in London instead of going to the country with the earl and countess. She won’t thank me for sharing this information, and it may be best to say nothing for the moment because I don’t believe Miss Bellamy to be in any danger. She’s an excellent cook, by the way.”

Chetwynd narrowed his eyes. “You seem to think highly of her. An excellent cook, a good actress . . . She is many, many things, I can tell you, and sometimes everything at once. It can be a nightmare keeping up with her line of thought. But I don’t want to discuss her past. It’s her future which now concerns me. If what you say is true, then I have not taken good care of her, and Leo will murder me. Not that that would be anything new,” he added, gloomily.

Piers felt a moment’s sympathy for him. It must be hard being a younger brother, particularly one who had, as yet, found no direction in life. But sometimes, when people didn’t know where to go, and weren’t aware of what was best for them, a little push from another person could make all the difference.

Piers smiled. Why shouldn’t he be that someone?

“What if I were to find out why Miss Bellamy has been working at the Lyon’s Den for you? Would that be valuable information?”

Chetwynd nodded.

“And if I had you reinstated as a member of the Den, that would be beneficial for you too, would it not?”

“I’ll say. It’s the best place to meet other chaps and find out what’s going on. Not that we gossip like the tabbies or anything—but you know what I mean.”

“Let’s assume that I know what you mean. Now, if I do these things for you, will you rescind the challenge that you issued at Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens?”

Chetwynd looked self-conscious. “I was, perhaps, a bit hasty there. Sorry.”

Piers waved a hand. “It is of no matter. I do, however, want something in return. The first part concerns Miss Bellamy. Permit me to take her out in my high perch phaeton. I’ll behave with the utmost respectability—how could I do anything else under the eagle eyes of the ton? It will annoy some of the matchmaking mamas, but that’s all to the good. I would like to find out from Miss Bellamy’s own lips what she’s doing in the Lyon’s Den kitchen. If I cannot get it from her, then I have a small spy in my employ who should be able to find out for me.”

“You mean, you’re not just going to ask Mrs. Dove-Lyon?”

“From my previous experience with the lady, she has her own agenda, and we mere mortals cannot fathom what it is. If I asked her directly, she’d give me a riddle, and we’d dance around in circles like pugilists in the boxing ring.”

Chetwynd nodded. “Or like people at a country dance.”

“Exactly. Anyway—do you agree to my first proposal?”

“I don’t know that it would be good for Belinda to be seen about town with a renowned rake like you. Leo wouldn’t be impressed. I’ll have to think about it.”

Piers inclined his head. “Very well. Now then, if I’m soon to be appraised of one of your family secrets, it’s only fair that I should trust you with one of mine. I am going to have to put you to some trouble, I’m afraid. While my diminutive but very able spy is keeping an eye on Miss Bellamy, he won’t be doing the task for which I mainly employ him. I’m looking for someone.”

He took a swig of his porter. Why did his throat always become tight when he thought of Charlotte and the boy?

“I’m looking for an actress called Charlotte Lavoisier. You don’t need to know my reasons at this stage but you need to understand how difficult it will be to find her. She’s worked with various London theatrical companies, but as soon as the weather improves, these troupes travel all round the country. My only link with this woman is a lawyer’s clerk who won’t tell me her whereabouts because she’s threatened to vanish for good if he does.”

The smoke from Chetwynd’s pipe was dwindling, the embers of the tobacco dying in the bowl. He seemed to have forgotten his drink, too. Well—it was hardly surprising that he’d find Piers’s story of interest. It was something only he and his adoptive parents knew. At this stage, he wasn’t prepared to divulge why he needed to find Charlotte. Although he was making a gentleman’s agreement with Roland Chetwynd, it was risky to tell him too much.

“You want me to find an actress in a traveling company.” Chetwynd stared up at the ceiling and drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. Piers realized he’d gripped the handle of his pewter tankard so hard he’d bent it, and he released his hold. So much was riding on this new scheme to locate Charlotte. What if Chetwynd refused to help?

“I say—that sounds like quite the adventure. Town can be somewhat boring. Same old, same old, don’t you know? I don’t owe anyone any money at the moment, and I haven’t set my cap at any fresh damsels, so there’s no reason why I shouldn’t leave the place. But I’d have to send Belinda back to her sister, first.”

“That would be wise. One way of keeping her out of trouble, certainly.”

It would mean Piers would be unable to see her, which would be a pity. But he had more urgent matters at hand. Perhaps, one day . . .

“So—are we agreed? You’ll undertake my commission, and I’ll undertake yours?”

Chetwynd held out his hand eagerly, and they shook on their bargain.

“We are agreed, sir. You must give me any information you have that will help me find your Charlotte Lavoisier. Full description, age, known haunts and suchlike.”

This was going rather well. Piers hadn’t expected Chetwynd to be quite so keen. The fact that he was demonstrated the value of membership of the Lyon’s Den.

“I’ll endeavor to get that information to you. Expect an undernourished urchin by the name of Tom to deliver it. Send him away with a shilling, no more. I shall be paying him, too—don’t let him tell you otherwise!”

So, there was only one more thing to arrange right now and he was already in two minds about it. He was going to be squiring the charming, frustrating, incomparably beautiful Miss Belinda Bellamy round the town.

He’d have to behave himself, or he wouldn’t get a word out of her. It was going to be a delight.

Or an utter torment.