Silence in the Library

by Katharine Schellman

  Glancing at Jack, who still stood close by him, he took a small step to the left, a frown creasing his forehead. Not finding what he wanted among his letters, he turned back to the desk to continue his search, though he kept glancing over his shoulder as if checking to see whether anyone was looking at him. Lily watched him curiously out of the corner of her eye, though she kept her face angled toward the rest of the room so he wouldn’t notice.

  “The club, then,” Frank said, still smiling his not-quite-mocking smile at Lady Wyatt. “You see, I am happy to make shift for myself.”

  “You are always welcome at your father’s table, Frank,” Lady Wyatt said, sighing.

  “But not yours?” he asked, leaning carelessly over the back of the settee so that he could look at Lady Wyatt’s face. A faint blush appeared high on her cheeks, though the tight line of her jaw made Lily guess it was from anger rather than embarrassment.

  There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as Lady Wyatt very pointedly did not contradict him.

  “And how is your father?” Frank asked, straightening as he turned back to Lily, apparently unbothered by his interaction with Lady Wyatt. “I’ve not had a letter from him since May.”

  “He is well, and I am sure he will be pleased to hear that you asked after him.” Lily silently wondered when she had last had a letter from her father; it had been long enough that she couldn’t remember. “As a matter of fact, he arrived in town just this morning.”

  “And does he stay with you for this visit?” Frank’s grin had the look of a naughty schoolboy. “Who will emerge victorious from such an occasion? For I do not doubt it will be quite the battle of wills.”

  “I say, Frank.” Percy looked shocked at such familiar speech, and even Lady Wyatt’s eyes grew wide with surprise.

  But Jack snorted with laughter from his spot by the window, which made Frank’s smile grow even wider. Lily couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from twitching.

  “Mr. Wyatt knows us of old, as you see,” she said, shaking her head. Jack caught her eye, and her wry expression grew into a real smile. “A battle of wills indeed.”

  “I shall be sure to pay a call,” Frank added. “It has been too long since I have seen him.”

  “To take my side or his?” Lily quipped.

  Frank laughed. “I will stay on neutral ground, as always. But as I can scarcely credit that he has come to London at all, I will have to see him in person to confirm that it is true.” As if remembering all of a sudden that there were others in the room, he glanced at Lady Wyatt, his smile once again taking on that mocking edge. “How strange that Mr. Pierce has not called to pay his respects, if indeed he is in town. He and my father have been friends these many years, as you know, ma’am. Since the time of the first Lady Wyatt.”

  Lily drew in a sharp breath. She was about to take Frank to task, propriety be damned, for such an unkind speech. Her father might be deliberately snubbing the new Lady Wyatt, but there was no need for Frank to point that out so bluntly. But Percy Wyatt spoke first.

  “Well, we shall leave you to your visitors,” he broke in, gathering up his papers as quickly as possible and hurrying across the room to take Frank’s arm. His own blush had returned, and he tugged his cousin toward the door before Frank could say anything else. “Mrs. Adler, Captain Hartley, a pleasure to meet you both.”

  “A pleasure,” Frank Wyatt echoed, laughing as his cousin shooed him from the room.

  Lady Wyatt sighed as the door closed behind them. “I apologize for them,” she said. “They mean well, but like many young men, their manners are not always what they ought to be.” She glanced at Jack. “Begging your pardon, Captain.”

  “You will find no disagreement from me,” Jack said. He had remained standing while the young men were in the room; now he crossed to take a seat near Lady Wyatt, and his teasing expression made her smile. “We are a sorry lot indeed, not fit for company, as my mother and sisters often remind me.”

  “Fortunately, I think you are no longer classed with the young men,” Lily put in, wondering whether he was thinking of Percy’s rudeness or Frank’s sly remarks.

  “You wound me, Mrs. Adler.”

  “I think, under the circumstances, it was a compliment,” Lady Wyatt said, an edge to her voice that tugged at Lily’s sympathy. How uncomfortable it would be to marry and find yourself sharing a home with a stepson who made his dislike so plain.

  They had almost outstayed the polite length of time for a visit, and she and Jack would need to leave soon. Lily impulsively found herself asking, “Lady Wyatt, if you are not engaged tomorrow morning, perhaps I might call again? There are so few people left in London these days, we who remain must stick together. That is,” she added, her wry tone matching Lady Wyatt’s own, “if you think you will feel the need for friendly company.”

  For a moment, Lady Wyatt looked as though she didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or grateful. A warmer smile than she had yet offered crept over her features. “Perhaps you would join me for a ride tomorrow morning, Mrs. Adler? And you as well, Captain, of course. Sir Charles keeps a number of horses in town,” she added politely, too tactful to ask outright whether either of them had the funds to keep their own stables in town. “But he is too gouty of late to join me. And I dare not ask Frank for his company.”

  “Oh, if you ride in the mornings,” Lily tried to demur. “I’ve no wish to impose—”

  “Nonsense,” Lady Wyatt insisted. “My other riding companions have already left London for the summer. And riding alone, or even with a groom for company, is no pleasure at all when one is confined to a walk or trot. Perhaps at ten o’clock—”

  She was cut off by the sound of a commotion from farther back in the house. Lady Wyatt started, frowning as she turned toward the door, clearly expecting the disturbance to be quelled as quickly as it had arisen. But the shouting only grew louder, and a moment later a housemaid burst into the room.

  “Ellen, what on earth is happening?” Lady Wyatt demanded.

  “Oh, ma’am.” Ellen wrung her hands, glancing uncomfortably at the visitors but unable to delay her message. “There has been such a to-do, you must come at once, they’re saying Thomas stole—” She broke off with another panicked look. “You must come, please. Mr. Percy—and Mr. Wyatt—”

  Lady Wyatt rose, and Lily was impressed all over again by her composure as she turned to her guests. “If you will excuse me, I am sure I will not be a moment.”

  Lily and Jack exchanged a glance once they were alone.

  “Well,” Lily said at last, her gaze still turned toward the noises emanating from outside the room. “She was charming.”

  “Shame she has to deal with those two, though,” Jack said. “Seems rather unpleasant for her.” He gave her a considering glance out of the corner of his eye. “Mr. Frank Wyatt seemed very friendly with you, at least.”

  “But otherwise behaving very badly,” Lily said, frowning. “It is not like him. Witty and sly, certainly, but not unfriendly. I would have expected him to go out of his way to make Lady Wyatt like him, even if she had been inclined to dislike him when they first met.”

  “Maybe he was the one who started off on the wrong foot,” Jack pointed out, scooting across the settee to be closer to the remaining cake.

  “Mr. Percy Wyatt at least seemed aware of his cousin’s bad behavior.”

  “But not his own,” Jack grumbled, cutting himself a large slice. “He was the one who stole our carriage, after all.”

  Lily couldn’t help chuckling. “I wondered if you recognized him too.”

  Glancing at the door, she went to the writing desk and knelt down. In his haste to remove his cousin from the room, Percy hadn’t noticed the piece of paper that had fluttered out of his grasp, but Lily had spotted it immediately.

  “Snooping?” Jack asked around a mouthful of cake.

  “Always,” Lily agreed, unashamed. Percy Wyatt’s shifty manner had piqued her curiosity, and his snatching their c
arriage had left her disinclined to behave politely toward him if she didn’t have to. She scanned the paper, unconcerned that he had said it was a private correspondence.

  It was, as she had suspected, nothing of the sort. In fact, it didn’t seem like much of anything. It contained only two lines, the first reading King, Dublin’s Boy, Wednesday and the second an address with Seven Dials noted in parentheses afterward.

  The back of Lily’s neck prickled.

  “Jack, do you remember the name of the moneylender that Bernard Walter got into such a scrape with in the spring?”

  “The whelp who cost Lord Walter five hundred pounds and made you wonder if his lordship had gambled himself into dire straits?”

  “That one, yes,” Lily said, standing. “Was it a Mr. King?”

  “I’ve not your memory for names and faces, but that sounds right,” Jack agreed, standing and crossing the room to peer over her shoulder at the paper. “Why?”

  The sound of crying in the hall made Lily pause instead of answering. Letting the paper fall, she went to open the door and found the maid who had rushed in earlier crumpled on the bottom step, her head in her lap and her sobs shaking her whole body.

  “What is the matter?”

  The girl jumped to her feet, wiping her tearstained face and stumbling a little. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. I didn’t mean to disturb—”

  “Nonsense, we weren’t doing anything that could be disturbed,” Lily said, stepping forward. “Are you well? Can we help?”

  “No, there’s nothing wrong with me,” said the maid—Ellen, Lily remembered her name was. But her posture was rigid with distress, and her hands were clenched into fists among the folds of her dark dress.

  “Not with you, then, but with someone you care about?” Lily asked gently.

  “My brother. They’re saying—” Ellen broke off again.

  Jack had joined them in the hall, and he was the one who finished her sentence. “They are saying he stole something?”

  Ellen’s face crumpled once more, and she hiccupped her way through another sob. “They’re saying he stole money right out of Sir Charles’s study—and someone sent for a constable. Thomas cleans Sir Charles’s study is all, and when Mr. Wyatt went in there, he found the drawer unlocked and the money missing—” Ellen gulped, her shoulders hunching miserably as she remembered to whom she was speaking. “I’m sorry, I oughtn’t say anything,” she said in a small voice. “I’d be dismissed if she heard I was gossiping. Please, can I get you anything? More tea?”

  “No, no tea.” Lily eyed Ellen’s tearstained face unhappily and turned to Jack. When she saw that he was watching her with an expectant look, she shook her head. “Captain, we cannot simply interfere in their family business.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “But I thought you might—”

  Whatever else he might have said was cut off by a tremendous crash from upstairs and a loud shriek that sounded like Lady Wyatt’s voice. Jack’s eyes went wide and his shoulders stiffened in a moment of indecision before he ran toward the sound.

  Clearly there was no choice but to follow. Lily jerked her chin at the wide-eyed maid, then hiked up her skirts, her long legs taking the steps two at a time as she ran after Jack.

  * * *

  Servants clustered in the hall, peering into Sir Charles’s study, though the household’s grim-faced butler was clearly trying to shoo them away. As Lily pushed past, she could see why.

  The scene that met them in Sir Charles’s study was chaotic. Lady Wyatt lay on the floor next to her husband’s desk; it looked as though one of the heavy drawers had come all the way out and knocked her off-balance, landing half on top of her while its contents were strewn across the floor. Frank bent over her, offering his hand. Lady Wyatt, grimacing with discomfort but clearly unwilling to accept his help, ignored him as she tried one-handed to shift the drawer aside so she could stand up.

  A few feet away, Thomas, the accused footman, hovered awkwardly half in, half out of his chair, clearly not sure what he should do, while Percy kept a firm hand on the servant’s shoulder to keep him in place and endeavored to look stern, though a green tinge of distress had replaced his earlier blush.

  As Lily paused behind Jack in the doorway, Frank took Lady Wyatt’s arm to pull her to her feet. She gave another cry, this one sounding pained rather than surprised, and yanked her arm away, falling back once more.

  “Oh damn, did it hurt your arm?” Frank growled, looking genuinely concerned. “Hold still—”

  As he bent down, the footman started forward. “I can help, sir—”

  “Thomas, stay where you are,” Frank snapped. “Percy, for God’s sake, can’t you—”

  “Allow me,” Jack said, stepping forward. Frank cast him a look of gratitude as they bent together to help Lady Wyatt to her feet.

  She looked pale and swayed on her feet as they helped her to a chaise longue tucked under one window, and Lily stepped forward. “I’ve a vinaigrette,” she offered, pulling the silver vial of salts from her reticule and kneeling next to the chair. “If you do not object, Lady Wyatt …”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Adler.” Lady Wyatt winced in pain as Jack brought her a pillow and she settled her arm on it. Frank watched from a few steps away, apparently content to leave her care to them. “I thought to prove the drawer would be locked, but it came out so quickly I lost my balance, and I landed so awkwardly …”

  As Lily and Jack helped to settle their hostess, Lily took the opportunity to glance around. Ellen had somehow made it past the glowering butler and gone to her brother, dropping to her knees beside him and gripping his hand tightly. Frank’s face was rigid with displeasure, and his gaze landed with equal frustration on his stepmother and the accused footman before traveling to the disturbed desk.

  “Well, as you can see, Lady Wyatt, the drawers were indeed unlocked, and my father’s money is gone from its customary place,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “And if you had allowed me to deal with the matter, you would not have injured yourself.”

  “I am mistress of this house, Frank,” Lady Wyatt said sharply, sitting up. “As I hope you remember. Whatever has happened, it is mine to deal with until your father returns. How much money was taken?”

  Frank hesitated, glancing at the disturbed desk. Lily followed his line of sight; from her position near the floor, it was easy to see that the drawers were undamaged and their locks unscratched, their keys nowhere in sight. She let her gaze wander around the room, pausing when she got to the doorway before she was recalled by Frank’s answer.

  “I do not know,” he said stiffly. “I only know that is where my father keeps his account books and his ready money, and now only the account books remain. Do you know, ma’am?”

  Lady Wyatt shrugged, but Lily thought she looked a little irritated, or perhaps even embarrassed, as she said, “You know your father does not care to have me concern myself with his accounts.”

  “And Thomas.” Frank looked unhappy as he turned to his servant. “You were the last one in here before the money went missing. I saw you leaving before I came in myself.”

  “Maybe it was not what it seemed, coz,” Percy put in, his voice cracking a little. He looked deeply uncomfortable in his role as unofficial guard and rested his hand as lightly as possible on Thomas’s shoulder. But there was a hopeful edge to his voice as he said, “We cannot say for sure whether there was money in there. Perhaps my uncle took it with him when he went? To pay a tradesman’s bill or some such thing?”

  Frank considered the suggestion. “Lady Wyatt, do you know what errand Sir Charles left on this morning? Is it possible he took the money to settle his monthly accounts around town?”

  “It is possible, but it did not happen.”

  Everyone jumped, and the servants hastily stood and bowed, even the wretched-looking Thomas. Sir Charles stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a thunderous frown on his face. Though Lily hadn’t seen him in years, his lion’s mane of white hair and
steely eyes were instantly familiar. But there were lines of irritation on his face, and he walked stiffly, as if his knees or feet were in pain. Lily remembered that Lady Wyatt had mentioned her husband suffered from gout.

  “Mrs. Adler.” He nodded at Lily. “A pleasure, my dear. You are looking very well. And I hear your esteemed father is in town? I shall take him to task later for not calling himself. But first …” He turned to Lady Wyatt, looking grave as he approached her. “Are you well, Winnie?”

  “Banged my arm a bit,” she said, smiling up at him, though she winced a little.

  “Frank.” Sir Charles glowered at his son. “How could you let your mother end up in harm’s way?”

  Even from a distance, Lily could see Frank’s jaw clench. “Sir, she is not my—”

  “It wasn’t Frank’s fault,” Lady Wyatt broke in, looking uncomfortable. Frank shot her a look of surprise, apparently unaccustomed to her coming to his defense, but she kept her eyes and her smiles for Sir Charles as she continued. “He tried to stop me, actually. And it is nothing too terrible, I am sure.”

  “We shall summon a doctor to be certain of that,” Sir Charles rumbled, still glowering. “Once we have dealt with this other matter. Now, am I to understand that we have been burgled?”

  “Thomas would never—” Ellen burst out, only to be interrupted by her brother.

  “For God’s sake, Ellen, hold your tongue—”

  “Truly, Father, we cannot say for certain what happened—”

  “Uncle, do you mind? I think you must not need me here anymore—”

  “All of you be quiet and tell me what the devil has happened!”

  Lady Wyatt sank back onto her chaise, her eyes closed and a small sigh of frustration escaping her lips. Thomas and Ellen stumbled over each other trying to explain what he had been doing that day and how he could not have been responsible for the theft.

  Lily ignored them, crouching down to look at the fallen desk drawer. She barely heard Sir Charles agree that his nephew could leave. While Sir Charles began to question Frank, she beckoned to Jack. Eyebrows raised, he came to her, looking as if he was trying not to grin.