Lily of the Valley (The Gents, #2), page 13
“It would require you to spend time with me, and I know you generally prefer to be alone,” she said. “And I suspect you have things of your own you’d like to be working on.”
“I am excited to be working on this, I promise you. And it will allow me to learn more of clockwork, which I have an interest in anyway.”
“If only either of us already knew more about it,” she said. “We would be miles ahead of where we are.”
“If you don’t have any objections, I’d like to write to an apothecary I know who has a clockmaker father. I will not identify you; I will simply give a basic explanation and ask if he has any ideas to share.”
“I would appreciate it. Thank you, Mr. Barrington.”
“We are partners in inventing.” He hesitated, finding himself caught on the words he meant to say next. But she’d trusted him, and they’d interacted so easily. They were friends, he hadn’t a doubt. That gave him confidence where she was concerned. “I would not be opposed to being called Kester. Or Kes; the Gents call me that.”
“I thought they called you Grumpy Uncle,” she said with a laugh.
“They reserve that for when they are annoyed with me.”
“While we are inventing, I believe I will call you Kester. And I hope you’ll call me Violet.”
“It would be an honor.”
She held her right hand out to him. He took it, and rather than shake it as he might have if she were a gentleman, he raised it to his lips and kissed it.
His heart firmly in the clouds, he said, “My very real honor.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kes brought his still unopened strongbox into the room on the ground floor where he sometimes worked on his projects. He had some tools in there that weren’t duplicated in the Cabin of Cleverness. Perhaps one of those would finally get the box open.
He pulled open a couple different paneling doors and removed a few tools he thought might prove useful. He had only just set them on the table when the door to the room opened. He wasn’t certain who he’d been expecting, but seeing Violet step inside proved the very best answer.
“I saw you coming this way,” she said. “I thought you might be working on a project.” She sounded genuinely intrigued. The Gents treated his interest in inventions and such with varying degrees of interest and amusement. She actually seemed excited.
“My current project is not my usual kind.”
He held a chair for her, then set her cane carefully against the side of the table. She was walking much better, but her ankle was clearly still a bit tender.
“I prefer inventing or improving things,” Kes continued, “but at the moment, I’m trying to solve a puzzle.”
“I like puzzles.”
“So do I.”
Sitting in a secluded room, talking to an unmarried lady to whom he was not related was not entirely proper. Their last visit to this very room had involved her unbuttoning the entirety of one sleeve. What an odd connection they had. Odd but very enjoyable.
Violet turned her attention to the tabletop and the box and tools set there. Her sleeve was fully buttoned under her long sleeves and lace undersleeves, and she wore yet another shawl pinned in a way that draped it over her arms. Now that he knew her left arm was prosthetic, he could see that she didn’t move it often or gesture with it. Her approach, though, was remarkably effective. One was unlikely to sort out the reason for any noticeable oddity in her use of that arm, assuming one was observant enough to have noticed.
“Is that a strongbox?” She nodded toward it. “My father had one very much like it in his office in Portsmouth.”
“He didn’t happen to lose it onboard a naval ship, did he?” Kes asked.
Her confusion at his comment couldn’t have been more apparent, but she was also clearly amused. “As far as I know, my father has never been on a naval ship. Merchant ships, certainly.”
“This was left on a naval ship, though I do not know how long ago. Its owner could not be identified, but my name was found scratched into it.”
“Your name was on it, but it’s not yours?”
He shook his head. “The Admiralty seemed perfectly happy to pass the infuriating mystery along to me.”
She bent her right elbow on the tabletop and rested her chin against her upturned hand. “Did the contents of the box offer any clues?”
“The box did not arrive with its key,” Kes said. “I haven’t the first idea what is inside.”
Violet watched him closely, biting her lips closed.
“What is it?” he asked.
With a bit of a wince, she said, “I worried my revelation yesterday would severely lower your opinion of my family. But what I am about to tell you now absolutely will.”
“Now I am too intrigued to resist begging you to explain.”
A corner of her mouth tipped upward. “My father can almost certainly open your strongbox.”
Confusion and excitement bubbled inside. “He can?”
She nodded. “As I said, he had a box very much like this one, and the key was lost at one point. He learned how to open it without the key.”
“Would you ask him if he would try?”
Violet smiled. Oh, how he loved that smile. “I believe he is in your library. We can ask him together.”
Time spent with her was always a wonderful prospect. Far be it from him to turn down the opportunity.
They rose. He held her cane out for her.
Violet took it in her right hand. “Someday, should I need a cane again, I may be able to hold it in my other hand. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“I intend to keep spinning my thoughts around that until it’s not merely possible but reality.”
“And you don’t mind keeping the secret?”
He took up the strongbox. “On the contrary, I’m touched that you’ve trusted me with it.”
“Especially knowing I come from a family of picklocks?” she asked with a laugh.
He nodded emphatically. “Especially knowing that.”
They laughed as they stepped out into the corridor. Spending time in her company was easy in a way it was with no one else other than the Gents, and sometimes not even with them. They talked comfortably about any number of topics. They laughed when they were together. He didn’t yet know how she felt about his tendency toward introspection and isolation after hours of social interaction. He was choosing not to think about that. Few people understood or respected that need in him, and he wasn’t ready to discover she didn’t either.
“You aren’t limping as much as you did yesterday,” he said. “I hope that means your foot feels better.”
“Much better,” she said. “I predict I will be triumphant in our next attempt at move all!”
“Perhaps we could suggest a cutthroat game of lawn bowls.”
“Excellent,” she said with theatrically wide eyes.
Mr. Ridley was indeed in the library. As were Julia, Henri, Aldric, and Digby. Julia’s appearance was unexpected, as she was dressed all in black, something seldom seen in a person not in mourning. Digby’s presence was even more surprising. He wasn’t unintelligent, neither was he opposed to the idea of quiet study, but he simply didn’t choose to do so often.
The gentlemen got to their feet, Violet having arrived in the room.
Digby’s eyes settled quickly on the strongbox in Kes’s hand. “Ah, the mysterious box has reemerged.”
“Still unopened,” Aldric added. “That is a maddening riddle.”
“One we may soon have an answer to.” Kes dipped his head to Violet.
That brought Julia into the discussion. “Violet, you have sorted the origins of our mysterious box?”
“I have not,” she said. “But I do know how to get it open.”
“Without the key?” Aldric was clearly intrigued. “How?”
“By asking me, most likely,” Mr. Ridley said, crossing to where they stood.
Violet leaned against her father, who set an arm around her. “It reminded me of the one you had in your offices in Portsmouth.”
“Let us hope it can be opened in the same way.” Mr. Ridley motioned toward the large desk. “Set it down, and I’ll have a look at it.”
“What else are you likely to need?” Kes asked as he laid the strongbox on the desk.
“A key, perhaps,” Digby suggested with his perfected air of foppish ineptitude.
“Pay him no heed, Mr. Ridley,” Julia said. “Mr. Barrington is far more likely to be cooperative.”
“I resent that,” Digby said with a tsk.
“You deserve that,” Aldric countered.
“Chut,” Henri said, softly but firmly.
Violet stepped up beside Kes. In a whisper, she said, “I don’t speak French.”
Kes leaned a touch closer and lowered his voice to the same level as hers. “He told them to hush.”
“I am never going to fit in Society.” She sighed in obvious frustration.
“Julia speaks multiple languages, and I am certain she would be delighted to teach you whatever you’d like to learn.”
“And in return,” Violet said, looking lighter already, “my father will teach you how to pick a lock.”
Kes looked to Mr. Ridley. He was closely examining the seam and keyhole in the strongbox.
“Do you have access to a very narrow needle file and something similar but with the tip bent at a right angle?” Mr. Ridley spoke as he continued his examination.
“There are a few things like that amongst my tools,” Kes said.
“I can fetch them,” Henri offered. “In your tool room or in the outbuilding?”
All the Gents knew of Kes’s projects and the places where he undertook them. Indeed, it was one of the reasons he got so little done when they were at Livingsley Hall—they knew where to find him.
“The tool room inside the house,” Kes said.
Henri bowed. “Je fais vite.”
“Merci,” Kes said.
In another whisper, Violet asked, “Does everyone in Society speak French?”
“Most people do, at least a little. The Gents speak it well and often on account of Henri, and also because Aldric’s family has connections to France, so he speaks almost perfect French.”
“The language I ask Julia to help me learn had best be French, it seems.”
Kes offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I can help you with that as well.”
“I was teasing you early in our stay here when I said I meant to visit every single day. If you keep offering to help me with more and more things, I will have no choice but to make good on that threat.”
He found he wasn’t as worried about that possibility as he had been weeks ago. Having her visit would be delightful.
Julia came and stood beside them. “How is your foot today, Violet?”
“Much better, thank you. How is your book?”
“Fascinating.” She looked to Kes. “I found a volume in here a few days ago that analyzes the chemical aspects of fire.”
“Ah, yes. I found that in London a few years ago, but I haven’t read it.”
“You should,” Julia said.
“Kester volunteered you to act as my French tutor,” Violet said. “Was that not presumptuous of him?”
“Terribly presumptuous.” Julia matched her teasing tone.
“And everyone wonders why I grow so quickly grumpy.”
Both ladies laughed. Heavens, he was not used to being the entertaining person in the room.
“Were you able to find where your name was scratched into the box?” Julia motioned to the strongbox now being looked at by Aldric and Digby as well as Mr. Ridley.
Kes nodded. “I did my own rubbings of all the sides. ‘K. Barrington’ is etched into the bottom but clearly not by a professional engraver. And there were other letters, as well, amongst all the gouges and scratches. I suspect there used to be a lot more written there.”
“Do you have any theories about why your name is on a box you’ve never seen, found on a boat you’ve never been on?” Violet asked.
“To tell you the truth, I am all but convinced the K. Barrington scratched into the bottom is a different K. Barrington.”
“Perhaps the contents will help us identify this other Mr. Barrington,” Violet said. “You might discover family you didn’t know you had.”
“More people to visit.” Julia gave him a teasing look that contained an unmistakable degree of empathy. She understood that he struggled with the never-ending demands on his time.
“I’ll suggest they gather at Everett’s home instead,” he said dryly.
“Who is Everett?” Violet’s sincere curiosity about his life and genuine enjoyment of their conversations was a boost to his sometimes-flagging confidence.
“My older brother. He lives in Norfolk at the family seat. And he enjoys having company.”
She set her hand lightly on his arm. “I know you don’t. I do feel a little guilty that we’ve all descended upon you.”
He took that hand in his and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “Please, do not feel guilty. Your family is always welcome here.”
“And you will always be welcome at Irthing Grange,” Violet said. “Assuming we don’t burn it to the ground.”
Kes and Violet both laughed. Julia, however, watched them with narrowed and curious eyes. She always saw far too much. Henri returned in the next moment, likely saving Kes from an embarrassing explanation.
Archbishop set a handful of tools on the desk, all of which matched the descriptions Mr. Ridley had given but in various lengths and widths.
Everyone gathered around the desk as the one-time shipping merchant selected two items from amongst those Henri had retrieved and slipped them with precision into the keyhole. The man was deeply focused on his work. Everyone in the room held their breath.
Several minutes passed. Mr. Ridley did not seem frustrated, so the passage of time must not have been a bad sign. He made the tiniest adjustments to the tools he held, leaning ever closer to the box. Everyone was concentrating on his efforts, perhaps even more than Mr. Ridley himself.
The room was so quiet that the click of the locking mechanisms echoed loudly around them all.
He had unlocked the strongbox.
With a grin of delight, he motioned to the box. “The contents await, Mr. Barrington.”
“As anxious as I am to see what is inside, if I do so without Lucas and Niles present, they will murder me. And I think Miss Georgie would enjoy watching the mystery unfold as well.”
“She would indeed,” Mr. Ridley said. “Thank you for thinking of her.”
The man’s gratitude was kindly offered, but Violet’s smile of approval fully eclipsed it. He would do almost anything to see that smile over and over again.
Chapter Seventeen
“I cannot comprehend how you’ve resisted looking inside the box for two hours.” Lucas sounded and looked exasperated. “I would not have lasted five minutes.”
“Five seconds,” Digby corrected.
Everyone had gathered in the drawing room after dinner, including little Georgie. She looked tired, but she was also clearly excited. Kes was glad she’d been included. Solving mysteries and undertaking adventures with the Gents had helped him stay afloat during the painful years after his parents died. Offering a bit of that to this girl who was grieving as well was a privilege.
A table had been set in the center of the room. Kes stood at it, the strongbox waiting, unopened on top, his hand resting on the lid. “We might open it to find the contents are utterly boring.”
“Or it might be a treasure,” Georgie said, leaning against the table with her chin resting on her folded arms. She was watching the box with every expectation of being amazed by what they found.
“Shall we?” Kes asked the room.
Everyone nodded enthusiastically.
He met Georgie’s eyes. “I hope it’s a treasure.”
She grinned at him. “So do I.”
Kes tipped the lid open. The lid’s underside was a maze of rods and levers, just as expected. He spent less than an instant eyeing it though. His attention fell on the box’s contents.
It was a mess of papers and leather pouches and odds and ends. On the top, at one corner was a small brass pin that Kes recognized.
He pulled it out. “Look at this.”
Declarations of amazement and excitement spilled from the Gents.
“What is it?” Georgie asked.
Kes set the pin in her hand. “It is a membership pin for the Travel Society at Eton. Three of us in this room belonged to that society when we were in school.”
Georgie was entirely engrossed with the pin. Kes returned his attention to the box. He pulled out a few of the papers, spreading them on the table. There were a number of drawings but not of the variety anyone would have expected. They were very detailed renderings of carriages and carriage lanterns, with notes about measurements and angles and such. Among the drawings were sheets of notes about mirrors and candles.
“Are you certain this isn’t your box?” Lucas asked, eying the papers. “A Travel Society pin and a detailed study of something shockingly specific and vaguely scientific . . . That sounds remarkably like you.”
It did, actually. But he knew the box wasn’t his.
“What else is inside?” Aldric asked.
Kes removed the remaining papers, some of which were blank. He pulled out the two leather pouches and set them on the table as well. That was all the box held. Not precisely the treasure Georgie had hoped for or the clear indication of ownership Kes had hoped for.
“It is odd that a collection so focused on carriages would be found in a box left onboard a naval ship.” Aldric flipped through a few of the papers.
