Lydia was not, of course, looking at his chest.
“We’ve just missed Davis,” Georgiana informed them. “He stayed in the boardinghouse as recently as last week. It seems he came back here after his stay with you at Strathrannoch Castle, though he mostly spent his time out of the village—the chambermaids I spoke to did not know where. He has his room rented for the remainder of the month, although I gather he meant to be away for some time, as the laundress said he’d left not a stitch of clothing behind.”
“Well done, lass,” said Huw, turning an astounded gaze upon Georgiana. “You can’t have been in there half an hour, and yet you learned all that?”
Georgiana did not smile easily, but Lydia could see her gratification in the tiny tilt at the corner of her lips. “It was not the first time I have posed as a disgruntled servant, and I suspect it will not be the last.” Her expression went abstracted—considering, Lydia suspected, how a mysterious missing boarder might feature in her next novel.
Arthur’s jaw was tight. “I cannot understand it. Where would he have been spending his time? There are few aristocrats in these parts, and none of the people who usually put him up. And how in hell can he afford to rent these rooms for a month and yet live elsewhere?”
His brows were drawn together, his face set in lines of worry that had become familiar to Lydia in the last two weeks.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but we are closer now to finding out.” She felt a sudden impulse to soothe him, to step closer and place her hand on his shoulder. To run her fingers over the rise of muscle there and learn its contours.
She didn’t.
“And you, lass?” asked Huw, turning his white-bearded face to her. “What did you find out from the owner of the place?”
“Ah.” She licked her lips. “I, er, rented us a room.”
“Good,” Georgiana said. “That will make it much easier for us to search Davis’s chamber.”
Lydia appreciated this generous interpretation of her efforts.
Huw’s face, meanwhile, lit. “Excellent. We scarcely need Bertie and his craftiness with these two along, do we, Strathrannoch?” He gave Arthur a congenial sort of nudge.
“Indeed. They seem to have plenty of schemes of their own without any outside interference.”
Huw nodded, as though this were the highest of compliments. Given his affection for Bertie, perhaps it was. “Whom do you mean to have search the rooms?” he asked Lydia.
She had just a moment to appreciate the stable master’s willingness to allow two women to take the lead in planning the affair when Arthur interjected.
“I’ll do it,” he said firmly.
She lifted her chin to catch his gaze, which was irritatingly high up. “How can you? The owner, at least, will know you by sight.”
“And the chambermaids and laundress too,” put in Georgiana. “I asked them.”
“Georgiana and I will do it,” Lydia said. “I’ll go up to the room I rented, and Georgiana can meet me there—we can get into Davis’s room together—”
“For Christ’s sake,” said Arthur, “I cannot let you put yourself into danger for me.”
“What danger? What do you anticipate is waiting for us in an empty room?”
Arthur glowered at her. “I don’t know, but I will not let you face it alone.”
Lydia scowled right back. “Fine. If you can come up with a way to get yourself into the upstairs hallway without being recognized, then feel free to come along.”
“This is a terrible idea,” Arthur muttered that evening.
Huw at his side nodded. “Probably.”
“You’re not supposed to agree with me, man!”
“Your solution to the dilemma of your familiarity in these parts involves homemade explosives. You expect me to tell you this is wise?”
“You tell Bertie his mad ideas are clever all the time.”
Huw leveled a gaze at him. “You are no Bertie when it comes to scheming.”
