“I do hope you can help me,” he said, the moment the butler opened the door. “I left Miss Hemmingway’s company only a short time ago, but happened to meet my acquaintance, Lord Millerton, who has taken quite ill and—”
Lord Millerton let out a loud groan, interrupting Robert’s explanation. The butler’s eyes flared wide in surprise but he opened the door a little wider and waved them both inside.
“I thank you,” Robert muttered, half dragging, half pulling Lord Millerton inside. “He has recently suffered an injury and I fear that he might not be as well recovered as he fears.”
“Please,” the butler said, hurrying them towards a room that Robert knew to be the parlor. A parlor which, if he had been correct in his observations, was adjacent to Lord Hamilton’s study. “Shall I send for a doctor?”
Lord Millerton shook his head, whilst hanging onto Robert’s arm. “I am sure that I only need to rest and perhaps drink something,” he said, his voice thin and wispy. “Although might you send someone to fetch Lord Millerton’s carriage? I believe it is just outside Landley’s Bookshop a few streets away.” He saw the flash of recognition in the butler’s eyes and knew that the carriage would be brought without any particular difficulty. “I do not think I can manage to make my way to my townhouse without it.”
Noting that the butler did not even hesitate but rather hurried to the door, with Robert murmuring a word of thanks. The butler paused to promise not only to have the carriage brought at one but also to have the master’s very best brandy brought in order to revive Lord Millerton somewhat.
“And pray, do not disturb the household on our account,” he said, firmly. “Pray, do not disturb Miss Hemmingway or Lord Hamilton, if he is at home. I am sure they are busy enough already.”
The butler nodded, wringing his hands as his eyes landed on Lord Millerton before quitting the room in a hurry.
“You should go quickly,” Lord Millerton hissed, sitting up straight for a moment. “And do not be long.”
Robert wanted to tell Lord Millerton that he knew very well what he was doing but there was not any time. Slipping from the room, he looked from the right to the left, seeing no-one about. Wondering what sort of excuse he might make to the butler should he appear and find only Lord Millerton present, Robert did not know, but he could not think of it at present. Quickly, he tried the handle of the room he believed to be the study—having discussed the house with Miss Hemmingway on a prior occasion—and, finding it open, pushed it ajar carefully. Looking inside and half expecting Lord Hamilton inside, he was relieved to find it empty. Slipping inside, he shut the door quickly and took in his surroundings.
The room was lavishly furnished, with a large overstuffed chair by the fire, with a table and brandy next to it. Near to that sat one of the largest oak desks Robert had ever seen, and a comfortable chair behind it. Bookshelves lined the walls on two sides, with grand paintings and other small ornaments decorating the other walls. Careful not to move anything, Robert stole towards the desk, praying silently that the drawers would not be locked.
They were not.
Letting out a long, slow breath of relief, Robert pulled open the top drawer carefully, but immediately felt a swell of disappointment in his chest when it bore nothing of significance. Another quick look over the other drawers only added to that disappointment, leaving him looking around the room wondering if there was anything else he might search through.
A small flicker caught his eye. What appeared to be a long, thin box sat on one of the bookshelves, pressed against some books and practically hidden from his view, had he not caught sight of the gleaming lock. Hurrying towards it, he picked it up and tried to lift the lid, only to find it locked tight. Gritting his teeth, he looked around the room, half expecting to find a key somewhere but fearing that there was nothing he could do but force the lid open. There was not enough time for him to try and break the lock open by other means, meaning that he had to make a choice as to whether or not he ought to break the box open or take it with him in order to look through the contents at his leisure.
There was no longer any time for him to consider. The box was thin enough for him to hide under his coat, although he was forced to press his arm tightly by his side in order to keep it well concealed. Clearing his throat, he took in one long breath, set his shoulders and hurried towards the door.
Opening it carefully, he winced at the slight creak that came from it, looking out quickly before stepping outside.
“Good gracious!”
A voice filled with surprise caught him and he turned his head, both astonished and horrified to see Miss Hemmingway standing just to his right, staring at him with wide eyes, her cheeks draining of color.
“Miss Hemmingway!” he stammered, trying quickly to think of some reasonable explanation as to why he had been in her brother’s study. “You must forgive me. I went to see if the carriage had arrived for Lord Millerton and when I returned, I walked into the wrong room. It is the parlor, I think, which is….this next door?” He looked at her enquiringly, but Miss Hemmingway said nothing, her mouth opening and closing in evident surprise.
“The carriage is here, my lord.”
A footman hurried towards him from the front door, perhaps not seeing Miss Hemmingway in his haste. “Might I help Lord Millerton from the room? I think he was brought some brandy and –”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Robert said, hastily, trying his best to put on an appearance of urgency. “I must apologize, Miss Hemmingway, for disturbing you so, but I had no other choice but to return with Lord Millerton, who has been taken very ill indeed. Had I chosen to take my carriage, then I would have, of course, taken him back in that, but I chose to walk here given that it was a fine day.” He stepped aside as the footman and Lord Millerton walked slowly from the parlor, with Lord Millerton leaning heavily on the footman’s arm. “As you can see, he is very tired and weak and I must return him to his house. He has only recently received an injury and I believe he has not yet fully recovered from it.”
“But…but of course,” Miss Hemmingway murmured, clearly still quite taken aback. “You must do as you see fit.” She hurried after Lord Millerton, leaving Robert to chase after her, the box still tight under his arm. It was somewhat difficult to keep it concealed as he bade Miss Hemmingway good afternoon, thanking her profusely and apologizing for what had occurred, whilst bowing at the same time, but he felt he had managed to do so without too much difficulty.
He was quite sure that Miss Hemmingway was watching him as he climbed into the carriage, quit
e certain that her eyes were fixed on his back as he stepped inside. He could feel a line of sweat run down his back as he sat down in his seat, keeping his expression one of concern as he leaned forward to speak to Lord Millerton, who was continuing his excellent performance as a gentleman in the greatest of pain.
Lifting his hand in farewell, Robert did not feel able to remove the box from under his jacket until the carriage had rolled away and the house had faded from sight.
“You have done very well indeed, Lord Millerton,” he muttered, pulling out the box and setting it on his knees. “I congratulate you on an exemplary performance. If I did not know otherwise, I would have thought you very ill indeed.”
“I think I have convinced myself a little,” Lord Millerton muttered, his face looking a little pasty as he rubbed one hand over his eyes. “Or mayhap my shoulder is not as well recovered as I first thought.”
“Perhaps you ought to rest,” Robert replied, frowning hard as he looked at his companion. “After all, you—"
The carriage suddenly lurched to one side, throwing both Robert and Lord Millerton to the left of the carriage, only for them to be thrown to the other side as the carriage veered to the other side.