Murder at the Royal Botanic Gardens by Andrea Penrose

Author:Andrea Penrose [Penrose, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Hawk darted away from the parlor window. “They’re here, they’re here!” he called, skidding into the corridor, where Raven was helping McClellan with the hampers of food.

Charlotte gathered her shawl, and eyed both boys, checking that no noxious substances had managed to rub off on their best clothing in the short time since dressing.

“Straighten your collar, Raven,” she murmured after fishing out a small satchel from behind the boot box. “And, Hawk, don’t forget your sketchbook and pencils.”

Hawk rushed over to take the bag.

“Just a moment.” Smiling, Charlotte wet her finger and rubbed away a small smudge from his cheek. How dirt managed to adhere to the boys within moments of their being scrubbed was a sorcery no rational law of science could explain.

A knock rapped on the door. One of the dowager’s footmen had accompanied the coachman in order to assist with the picnic things. As McClellan began barking orders to bustle everything out to the boot of the barouche, Hawk hesitated, fixing Charlotte with a look of uncertainty.

Crouching down, she asked, “What’s wrong, sweeting?”

“W-What if your bruvver doesn’t like us?” he asked in a small voice.

Her heart gave a little lurch. Hawk only mangled his speech when he was very, very nervous. Drawing him into a hug, she held him tightly, achingly aware of all the bony juts and angles of his body.

“My bruvver,” she whispered, “will adore you. He’s very happy that our family has reunited.”

Hawk didn’t appear entirely sure. “B-But when he finds out that we’re really just guttersnipes—”

“As I’ve told you before, sweeting, family isn’t defined solely by blood. An even more elemental bond is love.” She smiled as she smoothed a hand over his unruly curls. “And Aunt Alison will crack him over the head with her cane if he dares to say otherwise.”

His quivering lips slowly curled upward. “Wrexford says she’s an unholy battle-axe when her blood is roused.” He blinked. “But I would never repeat that to her in case it hurt her feelings.”

“Actually, it would probably make her laugh, but it’s a very gentlemanly sentiment.” She gave him another quick squeeze. “Now, come, let us not keep everyone waiting.”

* * *

“Are you busy?” Wrexford poked his head into Sheffield’s office. “Or do you have a moment for a few questions?”

“Thank heaven!” His friend dropped a thick sheaf of shipping manifests onto his blotter, and heaved a theatrical sigh. “Fire away—and feel free to ask more than a few. I’ve been drowning in the minutia of Kashmir wool and calico bolts—and to which mill each needs to be shipped. So you’ve just thrown me a lifeline.”

“Miss Whitney won’t thank me for providing too much of a distraction,” responded Wrexford. After clearing a set of ledgers from a chair, he took a seat. “Do you, perchance, still have the manifests from the unloading of Quincy’s merchant ship?”

In answer, Sheffield opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a folder.

“I’m impressed, Kit.”

“A tidy mind is necessary for tidy profits.” His friend sorted through the papers.

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