a day or two, if I may,” Alec said to Lord Cobham, indicating Cosmo’s letter. “There is a lot to digest, and I want to be certain I’ve not missed any of Cosmo’s messages to me.”
“Messages? There are messages?” Lord Cobham was clearly surprised and he looked reproachfully at Sir Gilbert. “You told me the backroom fellows had been over every word of this letter and found nothing hidden to report.”
“That is so, my lord,” Sir Gilbert started to explain, when Alec stepped in.
“They wouldn’t know what to look for. This is not written in any known code or cipher because Cosmo doesn’t know such codes. Yet, he has done his best to alert me to certain particulars. For instance,” he continued, looking to the Duchess, “he refers to the curl of Emily’s hair as given to me . Not that it was snipped from her head there and then. And he adds It will be familiar to you, as it was at Christmastime . He is telling me that the curl of hair sent with this letter is not new. Two Christmases ago, Cosmo showed me a porcelain snuffbox—a gift. Framed in its lid was a curl of blonde hair.” He smiled slightly. “I have no idea if it was Emily’s hair, and I did not ask.”
“So this curl might not belong to Emily?” the Duchess asked expectantly. “Those fiends might not have cut my darling’s hair at all?” When Alec nodded, she closed her eyes on a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God…” But in the next breath she was glaring at Lord Cobham, voice trembling with anger. “You told me it was Emily’s! You said if they could cut off her hair what wouldn’t they cut off next, perhaps a finger, if we didn’t do as they demanded!”
“Well, Aunt, they could very well do that,” Lord Cobham protested. “These Continental types are barbarians at best, so I was just trying to—”
“What? Scare the poor woman witless? Insensitive muckworm!” Plantagenet Halsey growled. “I’d always thought you had as much brains as a sea sponge. This confirms it. And you’ve got zero feelin’s to match!”
“Sir! You have no right to malign the head of the Foreign Department with such—”
“You shut your crumb hole! I’ve more right than you!” the old man interrupted Sir Gilbert, and so ferociously the rotund little man stumbled backwards, teacup rattling on its saucer.
“Oh hush! All of you!” the Duchess demanded and looked eagerly at Alec. “What else does Cosmo, say, my boy? Does he mention how they—how Emily is being treated? Her health? Are they being accorded every civility?”
“Cosmo is thankful Emily has the estimable Mrs. Carlisle as her companion, which should give us some comfort,” Alec replied, indirectly answering her questions because he wasn’t prepared to share the contents of the letter with her.
“Yes! Yes, Mrs. Carlisle is with her,” the Duchess said with surprised relief, as if she had just remembered the woman’s existence. “A most excellent woman; my second cousin. Poor as a churchmouse, but I’ve always done what I can for her. If there’s one thing I know about Ellen Carlisle it’s that she is not one to fold in a crisis, and she most definitely is not prone to hysterics.”
“Then she’s just the sort of female Emily needs with her at this time,” Plantagenet Halsey said in a rallying tone.
“Yes. You are right,” the Duchess agreed, and smiled for the first time since entering Alec’s townhouse.
“So I may keep this letter for a day or two…?” Alec asked, repeating his request to Lord Cobham.
“It’s most irregular,” Sir Gilbert said with a frowning shake of his head, “and not Foreign Department policy to allow important documents to leave the department.”
“But as it is now in my house,” Alec enunciated patiently, “then surely that makes it outside the department?”
“I beg to differ, Hal—my lord,” Sir Gilbert continued smoothly, and now in his element. “Lord Cobham is, for all intents and purposes, the department.
“Messages? There are messages?” Lord Cobham was clearly surprised and he looked reproachfully at Sir Gilbert. “You told me the backroom fellows had been over every word of this letter and found nothing hidden to report.”
“That is so, my lord,” Sir Gilbert started to explain, when Alec stepped in.
“They wouldn’t know what to look for. This is not written in any known code or cipher because Cosmo doesn’t know such codes. Yet, he has done his best to alert me to certain particulars. For instance,” he continued, looking to the Duchess, “he refers to the curl of Emily’s hair as given to me . Not that it was snipped from her head there and then. And he adds It will be familiar to you, as it was at Christmastime . He is telling me that the curl of hair sent with this letter is not new. Two Christmases ago, Cosmo showed me a porcelain snuffbox—a gift. Framed in its lid was a curl of blonde hair.” He smiled slightly. “I have no idea if it was Emily’s hair, and I did not ask.”
“So this curl might not belong to Emily?” the Duchess asked expectantly. “Those fiends might not have cut my darling’s hair at all?” When Alec nodded, she closed her eyes on a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God…” But in the next breath she was glaring at Lord Cobham, voice trembling with anger. “You told me it was Emily’s! You said if they could cut off her hair what wouldn’t they cut off next, perhaps a finger, if we didn’t do as they demanded!”
“Well, Aunt, they could very well do that,” Lord Cobham protested. “These Continental types are barbarians at best, so I was just trying to—”
“What? Scare the poor woman witless? Insensitive muckworm!” Plantagenet Halsey growled. “I’d always thought you had as much brains as a sea sponge. This confirms it. And you’ve got zero feelin’s to match!”
“Sir! You have no right to malign the head of the Foreign Department with such—”
“You shut your crumb hole! I’ve more right than you!” the old man interrupted Sir Gilbert, and so ferociously the rotund little man stumbled backwards, teacup rattling on its saucer.
“Oh hush! All of you!” the Duchess demanded and looked eagerly at Alec. “What else does Cosmo, say, my boy? Does he mention how they—how Emily is being treated? Her health? Are they being accorded every civility?”
“Cosmo is thankful Emily has the estimable Mrs. Carlisle as her companion, which should give us some comfort,” Alec replied, indirectly answering her questions because he wasn’t prepared to share the contents of the letter with her.
“Yes! Yes, Mrs. Carlisle is with her,” the Duchess said with surprised relief, as if she had just remembered the woman’s existence. “A most excellent woman; my second cousin. Poor as a churchmouse, but I’ve always done what I can for her. If there’s one thing I know about Ellen Carlisle it’s that she is not one to fold in a crisis, and she most definitely is not prone to hysterics.”
“Then she’s just the sort of female Emily needs with her at this time,” Plantagenet Halsey said in a rallying tone.
“Yes. You are right,” the Duchess agreed, and smiled for the first time since entering Alec’s townhouse.
“So I may keep this letter for a day or two…?” Alec asked, repeating his request to Lord Cobham.
“It’s most irregular,” Sir Gilbert said with a frowning shake of his head, “and not Foreign Department policy to allow important documents to leave the department.”
“But as it is now in my house,” Alec enunciated patiently, “then surely that makes it outside the department?”
“I beg to differ, Hal—my lord,” Sir Gilbert continued smoothly, and now in his element. “Lord Cobham is, for all intents and purposes, the department.
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