time. The sound hung in the atmosphere for several seconds before gradually fading.
He went deeper.
Beatrice Lockwood was important and not just because he needed her assistance to find the blackmailer and the killer.
She was important to him in ways that he did not yet fully comprehend.
He was trying to see the patterns in the chaos when he heard the discreet knock on the door. Chadwick would not have interrupted him during his exercises unless there was a compelling reason.
He came swiftly out of the trance and extinguished the flame. Wrapping his hand around the hilt of the cane, he pushed himself to his feet and made his way across the small, spare space.
He opened the door. Chadwick stood in the hall, immaculately turned out as usual. A thin, wiry man of indeterminate years, he wore his formal butler attire with the aplomb of a military officer in uniform. Under fire, he was far more unflappable than many officers Joshua had met. It was Chadwick who had taken on the task of nursing his employer back to health following the disaster that had nearly cost Joshua his leg and an eye. Chadwick had dealt with blood, fever, delirium and the periodic outbursts of his patient’s bad temper in a calm, dignified and efficient manner.
“My apologies for interrupting you during your morning meditation, sir,” Chadwick said. “But young Mr. Trafford is here. He says it’s urgent.”
“With Nelson everything is urgent.”
“Might I remind you that your nephew is eighteen years old, sir. Young men see no great virtue in patience.”
“They may have a point,” Joshua said. “Life is short, after all. Tell him I will be down in a few minutes. Perhaps you could find him something to eat? He always seems to be famished when he arrives on our doorstep.”
“He is devouring a muffin as we speak, sir.”
Footsteps pounded up the staircase. Nelson crested the stairs and bounded down the hall, moving with a lithe, athletic grace that made Joshua sigh. There had been a time when he had moved with such ease. Like Nelson, he had taken his excellent physical coordination and fast reflexes for granted. The poet was right, he reflected, youth was wasted on the young.
“Did Miss Lockwood agree to the plan, Uncle Josh?” Nelson demanded, shoveling the last bite of muffin into his mouth.
Nelson possessed the dark hair, sharp features and lean build that characterized the men of the Gage family. He was also brimming with a thirst for adventure that Joshua remembered all too well. When he had turned eighteen, he, too, had lusted after excitement, danger and a noble cause. That was before he had discovered that such thrills were too often accompanied by blood, death and betrayal.
But there was no use trying to warn young men like Nelson of the reality of what lay ahead. They would not heed the warnings. Nature made it impossible for them to do so.
I have become far too jaded, Joshua thought. He knew there was no stopping Nelson. The best he could do was to try to keep his nephew from making the mistakes he had made. But just how did one go about instructing a young man on the dangers of trusting others? Some things had to be learned the hard way.
“Yes, Miss Lockwood did agree to assist us,” he said. “This morning I sent word to your mother to let her know that she will be attending Lord Alverstoke’s country-house party with a paid companion from the Flint and Marsh Agency.”
“Brilliant,” Nelson said. Then his face tightened with frustration. “I just wish I could go, too.”
“That is not possible. Neither of us can attend the affair as guests as we did not receive invitations.”
“Where will you stay?” Nelson asked.
“I have made arrangements to rent a cottage near the estate for the weekend. I’ll pose as a painter who has come to the country to do some landscapes.”
Nelson frowned. “You don’t paint.”
“There’s no great trick to smearing paint on a canvas as long as one doesn’t intend to complete the picture.”
“You must be close at hand in case the ladies need you. You cannot expect Miss Lockwood to deal with an extortionist by herself. She is just a professional companion.”
“Miss Lockwood has hidden depths,” Joshua said. Not to mention a hidden gun, he added silently. “But you’re right. I certainly do not intend for her to take on the blackmailer alone. If my plan is carried out properly, neither Miss Lockwood nor your mother will come into contact