Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library (The Rogue’s Alliance #1)

Chapter Fourteen

T he next afternoon , a footman proffered a silver salver with a note upon it as Ashford sat with his mother in the drawing room. “This missive just arrived, my lord. Delivered by a grubby young boy.”

“Oh my!” His mother looked askance at the cheap paper with no wax seal resting on the plate. “Who would have sent you such a letter?”

He thought he knew who might have sent it. He unfolded the single sheet of paper and read the contents of the letter.

Lord Ashford-

Two men came into Thorne’s today and told me the library would soon be out of business and I should find another situation. Maybe the strange events at the shop are meant to scare the Thorne’s into closing their shop.

Respectfully,

Robbie Danker

It appeared Robbie hadn’t known Thorne’s was in danger of closing. Ashford sat for a moment looking at the note, the only sound in the room the ticking of a carriage clock on a table near his stuffed chair. He’d insinuated himself into the events happening at Thorne’s so completely that now he felt he must protect the business not only for Lady Charlotte’s sake, but Robbie’s as well.

“Ashford? Are you all right? You look rather put out.” His mother peered at him from her place on a crimson upholstered sopha.

He nodded, distracted. “I’m fine, mother.” He got to his feet. “I have to go out.”

“But we just sat down for a little chat. I see you so little, what with sessions.”

Ashford walked to his mother’s chair, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek. The scent of rosewater tickled his nose. “I have an important errand. There are no sessions on Saturday. You choose an amusement, and I will spend time with you.”

His mother waved a hand at him. “I’ve heard that before. Be off with you.” The affectionate smile she gave him softened the bite of her words.

Ashford directed his coachman to Cecil’s home in Curzon Square. He was sure his friend would be interested in knowing what James Landry had been up to in Berkeley Square. During the carriage ride, his thoughts returned to what Charlotte had said last evening about Diana. After the comments he’d made about her behavior on St. James’s Street, she must think him a sanctimonious prig.

Diana may have lost her fiancé in the war, but that did not give her an excuse to kick up a lark whenever it suited her. The last straw had been her attempt to seduce Cecil. His sister had kissed his friend quite passionately in Ashford’s own drawing room. Thank heavens Ashford had been the only witness to his sister’s machinations, or Cecil would have had to marry the chit. He knew Diana had been smitten with his friend when she was a child but believed his sister had genuinely loved her intended. Cecil saw her unfortunate behavior as a reflection of her grief at the loss of her fiancé.

Cecil’s townhouse, although small, was nicely furnished. A butler older than Methuselah answered the door and escorted Ashford to his employer.

“Good afternoon!” Cecil was seated in the room he used as a drawing room cum study, a cheery fire blazing in the hearth. “Have a seat. We may discuss anything you want as long as it isn’t politics. Would you care for refreshment?”

Ashford shook his head in reply.

The room was elegant yet cozy, decorated in burgundy and navy hues with heavy mahogany furniture. Cecil had always been quite particular about the furnishings in his home.

“I received a note from the clerk at Thorne’s Lending Library.” Ashford took the letter from his coat pocket and handed it to the viscount as he seated himself in an adjacent club chair.

Cecil perused the note and then handed it back to Ashford. “It appears Mr. Landry has decided the library needs help going out of business. I’ve recently heard reports that Landry forced the drapers next to the lending library to close.”

Ashford pocketed the letter and told Cecil about the hulking man he’d encountered loitering outside the front of the library. “I thought the harassment might end once I confronted Mr. Landry’s lackey. Perhaps it is time I spoke with Mr. Thorne’s landlord.”

“A logical step,” Cecil replied mildly.

“You’re not going to try and dissuade me?” he asked, raking a hand through his hair. “Ask why I’m doing such a thing?”

Cecil turned the glass of brandy in his hand, swirling the amber liquid inside. “Could I discourage you? I think we both know why you’re stepping in. You said you were done helping Lady Charlotte, but I don’t think you can help yourself.”

He would not object or ask his friend what he meant. Cecil had the right of it, after all. “Well then, I will proceed.”

The viscount placed his glass on a side table and rubbed his hands together. “So, what do you know about Thorne’s landlord?”

* * * * *

“T his is the building ,” Ashford said as his town carriage halted in front of one of the tall narrow structures in the east end of Bishopsgate. “Mr. Thorne told me the name of his landlord is Jacobsen. The man’s rooms are on the first floor.”

“Do you want me to take the lead?” Cecil asked with a sparkle in his eyes and a spring in his step. The viscount lived for confrontation.

“I will speak with Mr. Jacobsen. You’re here to assist me if things get out of hand.”

A light mist cloaked the area of Bishopsgate, crowded with shops catering to the lower classes. The street was teeming with people and coaches trying to find a way through the heavy traffic as his driver found a space along the opposite side of the road and pulled the carriage into it.

Ashford and Cecil waded through pedestrians and coaches to reach a structure adorned with a metal sign proclaiming Jacobsen and Son and climbed narrow stairs to the first floor. There were several nondescript doors along one side of a corridor. Ashford walked along until he reached an office door with Jacobsen’s name on it. He opened the door and walked in, Cecil following behind.

A thin young man with glasses looked up from where he sat behind an oak desk in the well-appointed room. “May I help you, sir?”

“My name is Lord Ashford,” he replied. “I’m here to see Mr. Jacobsen.”

“I’m his son- umm clerk. Please take a seat. I will see if Mr. Jacobsen is available.” The boy indicated two hard-backed chairs. “What is the matter regarding, my lord?”

He said bluntly, “I want to know if he plans to sell his property in Berkeley Square to Mr. James Landry.”

Ashford and Cecil remained standing as the clerk hurried to a door on one side of the room.

In a moment, the young man returned. “Mr. Jacobsen is busy at present. May I make an appointment for you?”

“Tell him I will remain here until he sees me,” he replied.

The clerk again hurried away, and he followed, Cecil in his wake. Ashford knocked at the door the clerk had entered.

The young man opened the door. “Mr. Jacobsen is very-”

“That is all right. I’ll wait.” He brushed by the boy and strode into the room. The onslaught of stale cigar smoke made his eyes water.

A rather stout man with cigar ash covering his green-striped waistcoat came to his feet. “It is quite all right, Ned. You know how these lords can be.”

The young man stepped back to let Cecil enter the room. Ashford could see a striking resemblance between father and son, an indication that Ned may not remain slender as he aged.

Velvet curtains were drawn back on a solitary window, allowing in the only light in the room. The furniture was new and of good quality. Jacobsen’s business must be thriving.

Their host spread his hands wide as he said, “Please have a seat.”

Once the men were seated and Ned had left the room, Mr. Jacobsen asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of having two peers of the realm call on me?”

“I told your clerk the reason for my visit.” Ashford observed the man across from him. Jacobsen appeared confident yet wary. He wondered how loyal the man was to Landry.

“I am not at liberty to discuss business arrangements that involve other parties.” His accompanying smile did not reach his eyes.

“James Landry wants the land Thorne’s Lending Library sits on. He has already bullied the neighboring shopkeeper into vacating the premises.” Ashford paused. “Now he is harassing Mr. and Mrs. Thorne.”

Jacobsen sat back in his chair and nodded several times as if making up his mind about something. “Mr. Thorne is always late with his rent. It is just a matter of time until his shop closes.”

“Mr. Thorne has a contract with you; the contract is valid for two more years.”

“Unless the man defaults,” Mr. Jacobsen replied blandly.

Ashford lifted a corner of his mouth. “He won’t.”

“You seem very sure, my lord.” Mr. Jacobsen frowned as he leaned forward in his chair.

“Tell Mr. Landry I don’t like his tactics. That shop will never close. I guarantee it.” He stood up, as did Cecil. The cigar smoke hanging in the room was giving him a migraine.

“I will tell him, Lord Ashford. You know your words sound like a challenge. Mr. Landry loves a challenge.” Mr. Jacobsen shook his head and sighed.

He replied grimly, “As do I, Mr. Jacobsen. As do I.”

When they were once again back outside, Ashford took a deep breath. Although the air may not be fresh and clean on the busy street, it was a relief from Jameson’s smoke-filled office. The mist had faded, although the day was still overcast.

“What is your opinion of the man?” he asked Cecil when they were seated in the carriage.

His friend replied thoughtfully, “Mr. Jacobsen is merely interested in making a profit, although I did get the impression he is well aware of how dangerous James Landry can be if thwarted.”

* * * * *

“E eek!” Edith put a hand to her breast. “Oh, my goodness! It’s, it’s a dead- I think it’s a dead mouse.”

“Oh heavens!” Charlotte stepped around the small dark bundle of fur on the pavement, a short tail peeking out from under the animal. “I’ll tell Robbie.”

Led by Louisa, the three girls hurried into Thorne’s and away from the lifeless creature.

“Good afternoon, Robbie,” Charlotte said to the clerk, adding softly, “I’m sorry to tell you this but there is a dead mouse in front of the library.”

The boy let out a low whistle. “Again? There was one yesterday as well. Mr. Thorne saw it before we opened the shop. Normally he wouldn’t have been out front, but he looked out to make sure that nasty man was well and truly gone.”

The ladies took their seats in the sitting area. Edith held a handkerchief to her nose, her eyes closed. Louisa removed a sterling silver vinaigrette from her reticule, opened the lid, and took a deep breath of the contents inside. Charlotte blew out a breath, willing the image of the poor dead animal from her mind.

“Do you think it was Mr. Landry?” Louisa asked after a moment, closing the lid of the vinaigrette.

Charlotte nodded. “It has to be. We rarely see dead animals on this street. The only food establishment nearby is Gunters, and I’ve never heard of their having vermin.”

She observed Robbie exit the shop with a small canvas bag after whispering something to Mr. Thorne. The boy was gone only a few minutes, and when he returned, he re-entered the shop via the backroom, no bag in hand.

Mrs. Thorne came out of the backroom a moment later. Edith put away her handkerchief and Louisa her vinaigrette.

“Good afternoon.” Mrs. Thorne smiled, a remarkable sight to behold. “I am delighted to say trade has picked up quite a bit in the last few days.”

The bell over the door tinkled. Two ladies and a gentleman Charlotte didn’t know entered the shop. Mrs. Thorne observed her husband greeting the new arrivals before returning her attention to Charlotte and her friends.

“Thank you for visiting our shop,” Mrs. Thorne said awkwardly and proceeded to return to her office behind the backroom door.

Charlotte blinked. “How extraordinary!”

“She knows how to smile,” Louisa said in wonder.

Edith merely beamed.

“What did you do, Edith?” she asked her friend.

Edith replied with a shrug, “I gave her some suggestions on being more personable. Mrs. Thorne finds it extremely hard to converse with most people, so I advised her to make one or two attempts a day.”

“Excellent!” Charlotte smiled at the other girl. “Well done!”

“Mrs. Thorne does appreciate how much we have helped the shop. She just doesn’t know how to say thank you,” Edith continued.

Louisa replied, “I would never have believed she could change.”

“The best news is that she has agreed to take out an advertisement!” Edith clapped her hands. “Robbie and I helped her design it.”

She didn’t want to minimize Edith’s triumph, but Thorne’s had a new problem. “Now we have to figure out if the dead animals outside are being put there or just dying there.”

“I think Robbie should contact Lord Ashford,” Edith replied.

When Charlotte didn’t respond, Louisa stared at her for a moment before getting to her feet. “I’ll suggest it to him.”

She watched as Louisa spoke with Robbie. The young man started writing on a piece of paper. Not for the first time, she marveled that Robbie could read and write. Mr. Thorne had taught the boy his letters after finding him begging outside the shop and giving him a job.

Louisa returned to the seating area. “Robbie will inform Lord Ashford about the dead mice.”

“Do you think the marquess will help?” Edith asked.

Both girls looked at Charlotte for an answer. After her comments about his sister Diana, she was very much afraid the marquess had washed his hands of not only her but Thorne’s Lending Library as well. Perhaps it was time she took matters into her own hands.

“He may, although we shouldn’t depend on him.” She asked Louisa, “Have you ever heard your brothers mention James Landry?”

“I overheard my youngest brother talking about Mr. Landry once. The man was trying to tempt him to marry his daughter. He figured with four sons in the family, one might be willing to marry into trade.” Louisa shook her head. “James said he laughed in the man’s face.”

“Have your brothers said anything else about him?” she asked her friend.

“They told me he has a rather garish mansion in Hampstead Heath, and his offices are in Cheapside.”

“Cheapside?” Charlotte felt an idea coming to her.

“Charlotte?” Edith squinted at her. “I know that look. You are not going to Cheapside.”

She knew she couldn’t be seen in that part of London. Despite what Lord Ashford believed, she wasn’t that careless with her reputation. Mr. Landry wanted to purchase the land, so that meant someone else still owned it. Perhaps that someone could be reasoned with. “I won’t visit Mr. Landry, Edith. I do have another idea of how to save Thorne’s.”

Louisa leaned forward in her chair, her expression grim. “Whatever you have planned, Charlotte, I won’t let you go alone.”