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Chapter Twenty-Six
After the funeral, Charles went to pay his respects to the family of the Earl of Dansbury. The butler led the way. The house was quiet, dark. Far off, he could hear the sound of many voices, a low drone.
As soon as the doors opened, he could feel all eyes on him. The room, filled with dark-dressed members of the ton, went completely silent.
“Mr. Charles Conolly,” the butler announced. Charles entered the room, making his way toward the Dowager Countess, Lady Dansbury.
He could hear the whispers. Heard the words –blamed, murderer. He kept his eyes averted, making his way over to the widow.
“Lady Dansbury,” he said, bowing low over the hand that she offered to him. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“My John always trusted you, Sir,” she replied, taking his hand. “I will continue to do so,” she announced, so that all would be able to hear.
“Thank you,” Charles whispered. “My Lady.”
Once he had done his duty, he meandered through the crowd. When Lord Dunsmore found him by the table, Charles was searching for Arabella. He didn’t see her, though the room was quite crowded.
“There you are, Mr. Conolly!” Lord Dunsmore said, then lowered his voice. “Come with me.”
Charles had no time to ask questions. He simply followed Lord Dunsmore out and into the hall.
“Where are we going?” Charles whispered.
“Lord Danbury’s study.” Lord Dunsmore walked confidently, his hands in his jacket pockets. It was clear that he did this often. He also knew where he was going.
Charles had never snooped before. He wasn’t the sort. But he was going to do whatever Lord Dunsmore thought necessary. Particularly if it cleared his own name. Information was power—Charles knew that.
When they arrived at the study, Lord Dunsmore threw open the door waving for Charles to move quickly. Charles entered and Lord Dunsmore peeked back into the hallway checking to see if they’d been followed before shutting it again.
Charles had been here only once before. He recalled how Lord Dansbury had invited him in, poured him a glass of exceptional bourbon. It seemed rude to be going through his things like this.
“What are we looking for, My Lord?” he asked, goosebumps rising all over his arms.
“Clues, of course!” Lord Dunsmore opened the black, leather-bound ledger which sat on the desk. His eyes travelled over the rows of the Earl’s neat Copperplate handwriting. “There must be something that he’s hiding.”
“You think that it’s in his finances?” Charles asked.
“If what I know about gentlemen is true,” Lord Dunsmore said, closing the ledger, then opening one, then another of the desk drawers. “And, trust me—it is—then he’s got a secret ledger with expenses that he didn’t want anyone to know about.”
He opened another desk drawer feeling around in it. “There it is!” He pressed a button which caused a false bottom to open. Charles could only watch as Lord Dunsmore pulled out another ledger—similar to the other, but thinner. “See?” he said, waving it in the air in triumph.
“How did you know?” To Charles, it seemed that it had been too easy. Charles himself had a desk drawer with a false bottom. If he had anything illegal, he would have found a hiding place more creative—a loose hearthstone, perhaps.
“I’m a gentleman of the ton,” Lord Dunsmore replied. “I have secrets of my own.”
“I see,” Charles mused. The door opened. Dunsmore quickly slipped the ledger into his jacket.
“What are the two of you doing in here?” the butler demanded.
“The Earl of Danbury borrowed something of mine,” Dunsmore lied smoothly. “Mr. Conolly told me I should ask, but it seemed…indelicate to do so at the current time.”
“I must ask you both to return to the parlor,” the butler said, clearly checking his anger. “Where the guests aresupposedto be.”
“Of course, of course,” Dunsmore said. “Come Mr. Conolly. We have an engagement that we mustn’t be late for.”
The butler followed them all of the way to the front door. Dunsmore walked out confidently. Charles followed his lead, walking coolly toward the door.
Lord Dunsmore’s carriage was in the street, and he climbed in. Charles stood out on the street. Dunsmore poked his head out. “Are you coming, Mr. Conolly?”
