even complain when she couldn’t resist reading sections aloud from the notebooks she was slowly but steadily putting into the correct order.
In short, he treated her with his own peculiar combination of irreverence and respect which, had she not been foolish enough to conceive this girlish tendre for him, would have made her completely comfortable in his company.
But it only made it worse.
She would just have to ensure she gave him no reason to suspect. And, even more importantly, gave Lady Ermintrude no reason to suspect it. Ellie did not want to give her the satisfaction of knowing her machinations in forcing her into Chase’s company had borne fruit. In any case he would likely leave soon, she reminded herself sternly.
Although he did not appear to be hurried, Tubbs, his valet, had already packed all the cabinets in the Ghoulish Gallery—gone were the gelatinous amphibians and carved beetles and statuettes, and this morning two trunks appeared in the study, clearly ready to receive the books and papers they were reviewing.
And Chase would not be the only one leaving soon—she knew she must face the harsh reality that, with all the best will in the world, Henry had overestimated Huxley’s financial position. His plan to save Whitworth was proving just as unrealistic as pugs and hot air balloons. It was time to face the truth.
But she wasn’t ready. Not to leave.
Ready or not, Ellie Walsh—you will return to Whitworth and try to save what can be saved just as you will recover from this foolishness, she told herself resolutely, opening the next notebook on her stack.
Or perhaps not.
It certainly didn’t feel like any infatuation Susan described to her. There were no stars and sighs and she didn’t think he was perfect and above all mortals. But she did feel that saying goodbye to these days in the study would be like leaving herself behind, something true and real that was only just beginning to form.
It felt...wrong.
The words on the page in front of her blurred. She placed her hand over them as if afraid the threatening tears would burst their dam and inundate the world. But she breathed them back inside and turned the page. At least she could escape inside the foreign but strangely familiar world of Lord Huxley’s notebooks, if only for a while.
She glared at the first sentence as she noticed Chase’s name. She did not want to read about him at the moment. She debated picking up another notebook, but already her mind was ploughing ahead and she gave in.
‘Damned if I know how he does it. It wasn’t the first time Chase smoothed over matters with the authorities. Tessa says it’s a gift and curse, the way the boy can wrap people round his thumb without even appearing to.
‘Just like that time with Awal. By some means as yet obscure to me Chase talked Poppy into hiring Awal for the whole season even after Poppy swore up and down the Nile he had no use for a half-blind peasant come begging for al-Jinn Chase to help him. He even convinced Poppy it was his idea. If Chase ever lost his inheritance, he could make back his fortune with that silver tongue.
‘I told T. I would worry if Chase used it for his own benefits, but he only appears to do so when someone else is in trouble. T. said that worried her most of all and I must say she has a point. It’s the Sinclair curse—all those extremes of dark and light take their toll.
‘Poor Tessa. Sometimes I sorely regret she met Howard through me and other times I’m grateful—these three wretches have certainly enlivened my life. When they aren’t adding to my white hairs. This business with Khalidi’s cats was a step too far and, though Chase said the idea was his, I detect Sam’s fell influence. Chase is usually more refined in his machinations.
‘Still, he should have stopped her rather than taken a hand in such an outrageous endeavour. Khalidi would have been well within his rights not only to keep Edge in gaol, but toss Chase in with him and have the rest of us banished from Qetara. I’m only glad Lucas was in Cairo or he’d no doubt have joined the fray. I told T. she ought to ring a peal over them, they are too old for such nonsense. Abducting cats! What next?’
She turned the pages, but there were no more references to the abducted cats, so she searched the stack for the notebook preceding this, to no avail. Although at least it confirmed one of her assumptions.
‘Oh, bother!’ she exclaimed.
‘What have I done now?’
She looked up swiftly to see Chase watching her, the glinting smile in his eyes. It was like a flame flaring up too close to her face—she pressed back in the armchair, her hands tightening around the notebook to stop them from an instinctive need to press against the heat in her cheeks. His profile was bad enough, but faced with the warmth of his smile, that invitation to share, she became as soft and shapeless inside as a lump of kneaded dough.
‘Whatever it is, if it has struck you dumb, it must be bad. Should I apologise?’ he prompted, still with the same warm amusement.
‘It’s the c-cats,’ she stammered.
‘Cats?’
‘The ones you abducted.’
‘I...what?’
‘That is just it. I don’t know. It doesn’t say. And I cannot find the one before. And I really wished to know what happened.’
‘You do realise you are making no sense? Have you been tippling Huxley’s brandy behind my back?’
‘I don’t imbibe, Mr Sinclair,’ she replied, trying to sound sensible, but her mouth was already curving upwards in response to his teasing. I don’t need brandy to make a fool of myself, she thought morosely.
‘Never?’
‘Spirits are expensive and we rarely entertain at Whitworth.’ She didn’t add that the only visitors were creditors, local matrons trying to interfere in their lives, or Henry, and of these only Henry was encouraged to linger. The teasing warmth in Chase’s eyes was giving way to speculation and she looked away and turned the conversation back to the notebooks. ‘I wanted to know the story behind his account of you and Sam abducting this Mr Khalidi’s cats, but the notebook before this seems to be missing.’
Laughter drove away the expression that had made her uncomfortable.
‘Lord, I had forgotten about that. That was when Edge, Lord Edgerton, tried to rescue a damsel in distress and ended up in gaol.’
‘Was your sister the damsel in distress?’
‘Sam wouldn’t thank you for considering her a damsel in distress. At least not back in those days. No, this was Fatima, Khalidi’s daughter. Edge was a rather handsome fellow but not quite aware of his charms.’ He glanced up. ‘Here is your chance for a sarcastic comment, Miss Walsh. Along the lines of “the same cannot be said of a certain vain Sinclair”.’
‘A certain aggravating Sinclair. Stop being so clever and tell me what happened.’
‘Very well. Khalidi was a wealthy merchant who often did business with my cousin and Fatima was his eldest daughter and silly enough to tumble head over heels in love with Edge. When she learned he was leaving Egypt to join the army in Portugal, she escaped her home one evening and came to cast herself at
