Christopher strolled beside Toby; together, they made for the stairs. As they climbed, Christopher glanced at his cousin. “Can you stay and assist?”
Like Christopher, Toby had spent a great deal of his life in the country; he was comfortable moving among country folk and the gentry of county circles. Drake possessed a similar background, but not all of his occasional agents—most recruited from the ranks of the sons of the nobility—did. “For this investigation,” Christopher said, “we need those who can slide effortlessly into county society, from the fields to the ballrooms.”
“Well,” Toby said, “it seems I’m your man. I sent word to Nicholas before I left London. He’ll cover for me until I get back.”
They reached the head of the stairs, and Christopher clapped Toby on the shoulder. “Good man. Now let’s get some sleep. I suspect tomorrow—no, it’s now today—is going to be hectic.”
Chapter 7
At nine o’clock the following morning, Christopher stood behind his desk, poring over a map of the immediate locality. Flanked by Pullman, his groom, Granger, the manor’s head stableman, Radley, the estate manager, and Toby, he was exploring the logistics of setting up an around-the-clock watch on Goffard Hall.
“The critical point,” Toby stressed, “is that we have to be certain of seeing anyone who arrives—or any of the household who leaves, for that matter—but we absolutely must not be seen ourselves.”
Pullman and Granger grunted.
His arms crossed, Radley tugged at his lower lip. “Using field glasses, we can watch their boundaries from the cover of various copses.” He leaned forward and pointed. “For instance, here and here.”
“Mind you,” Pullman said, “we’ll have to let the Bigfield House staff know what we’re doing, or they’ll see us slinking about their fields and wonder.”
“Getting the Bigfield House staff’s support won’t be difficult,” Christopher said. “We can count on Miss Martingale to smooth our way. In fact, we can ask the Bigfield House staff to monitor their shared boundary. That’ll leave us with fewer fences to watch.”
“It’s the front of the house that’ll be the problem,” Granger said. “That and keeping an eye on the lanes leading away to either side. Spotting our men lurking about the hedgerows would look odd to anyone, even city folk like the Kirkpatricks.”
“Indeed.” Christopher straightened. “That’s why I’ve asked Aaron”—for Toby’s benefit, Christopher added—“the leader of the band of gypsies that helps with our harvests, to join us.”
Sounds of an arrival reached them. “I expect,” Christopher said, “that will be Aaron now.”
The door opened, and Pendleby entered to announce, “Mr. Aaron Codona and Mrs. Gracella Codona, sir.”
Christopher blinked, then stepped past Granger and went to greet Aaron and the matriarch of the Codona clan.
Gracella offered her hand, and Christopher bowed over it. “We’re honored by your presence, ma’am.” He viewed Aaron as shrewd, but Gracella was shrewdness personified.
“My grandson”—Gracella indicated Aaron with a wave—“informed me of your request for assistance. The Cynsters have always been good friends to the Codonas. Of course we will help.”
Christopher inclined his head and waved Gracella and Aaron to the armchairs.
Sinking into the chair facing the one Christopher moved toward, Gracella took note of the other men. She exchanged nods with Pullman, Granger, and Radley. Her gaze lingered on Toby. “This is another Cynster, yes? I do not know him.”
Somewhat warily, Toby came forward and bowed. “I’m Christopher’s cousin, Tobias Cynster, ma’am, but everyone calls me Toby.”
Gracella eyed him assessingly. “That is wise—you are much more a Toby than a Tobias. But it is good that you are here helping, too.” With her curiosity satisfied, she turned her gaze on Christopher. “Now, what is this thing you wish the Codonas to help with?”
Christopher explained that he needed to keep a covert watch on Goffard Hall with a view to intercepting an illegal delivery and stressed the need for secrecy.
Gracella nodded her understanding, and when Christopher suggested they rise and study the map, she waved at Aaron to do so.
The assembled men were once more poring over the map, with Gracella looking on, when a tap fell on the door and Pendleby appeared. “Miss Martingale, sir.”
Surprised, Christopher looked up; he hadn’t expected Ellen any more than his men had.
Toby brightened and looked interested, as did Aaron and even more Gracella. The latter swiveled in the armchair, the better to study the newcomer.
Ellen walked in; today, she wore a leaf-green walking dress adorned with the inevitable ribbons and rosettes, this time in shades of white, pale pink, and darker pink.
She reminded Christopher of an apple tree in blossom. He realized that was possibly her aunt Emma’s intention.
Ellen showed no surprise at finding so many gathered there; instead, she looked inquisitively at the faces, then at the map on the desk. “I wondered what was afoot.”
Christopher stepped around the desk to meet her. He waved at his staff and introduced them; she bestowed a smile and a nod on all three. “And this is my cousin, Toby Cynster, who I believe I’ve mentioned.”
Ellen held out her hand and smiled warmly. “Mr. Cynster. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Smiling delightedly, Toby took her hand and bowed over it. “Miss Martingale. The pleasure, I assure you, is all mine.”
Ellen’s smile grew rather more amused. Withdrawing her hand, she turned to Aaron and Gracella.
Gracella rose, and Christopher made the introductions.
Gracella returned Ellen’s smiling nod with a distinctly regal inclination of her head. “You are the sister of the young man who thought we shouldn’t camp on Sir Humphrey’s fields?” A note in Gracella’s voice signaled combative readiness.
Ellen either remained oblivious or chose to ignore it; Christopher suspected the latter. She stepped closer to Gracella, so when she spoke, it seemed more personal, more open and direct. “I’m so very sorry about Robbie’s misunderstanding.” Although her gaze included Aaron, Ellen spoke primarily to Gracella. “Neither Robbie nor I have lived in the country before, and there aren’t any gypsies in London, not traveling about as you do. Robbie had no notion of the previous arrangements, but as matters stand, with Sir Humphrey temporarily indisposed, Robbie has assumed responsibility for Bigfield House, and he takes that very seriously. When he saw you and your people about to move into the field, he made an incorrect assumption, albeit from worthy motives.” She smiled, transparently sincerely. “I do hope you and your son and the other members of your group can see your way to accepting Robbie’s and my heartfelt apologies.”
For a long moment, Gracella studied Ellen’s earnest face. Christopher held his breath.
Then Gracella nodded. “You, I approve of. And your brother was willing to learn and change his position when informed of his error. That is also a trait to be encouraged.” Gracella swiped a hand through the air in a negating gesture. “All is forgiven. You will come and take tea with me soon, yes?”