Beaming, clearly delighted with his orders, Hungerford retreated. Tony considered the clock; it was not yet noon.
He debated the wisdom of his next act at some length; eventually, he rose, and headed for Hendon House.
At two o’clock, he paused beside Collier, leaning on his street sweeper’s broom at the corner of Waverton Street.
The big man nodded in greeting. “Just missed her, you have. She returned from some luncheon, then immediately headed off with the three lads and their tutor to the park. Kites today, if you’ve a mind to join them.?
??
“And Miss Pevensey?”
“Lord Manningham called ’bout eleven and took her up in his curricle. They haven’t returned.”
Tony nodded. “I’m going to talk to the staff, then perhaps I’ll fly a kite.” He paused, then added, “I plan to move Mrs. Carrington and her household to Upper Brook Street, but I’ll want you and the others to keep up your watch here. I’ll leave Scully and one other in residence, to keep all possibilities covered.”
Collier nodded. “When will this move happen?”
Today if Tony had his way. Realistically…“At the earliest tomorrow, late in the day.”
Leaving Collier, Tony strode on; reaching Alicia’s house, he went quickly up the steps. Maggs answered the door.
Tony frowned; Maggs forestalled him. “Scully’s with ’em. No need to fret.”
His frown darkening at the thought that he was that transparent, he crossed the threshold. “I want to speak with the staff—all of you who are here. It might be best if I came down to the kitchens.”
From beneath the wide branches of one of the trees in Green Park, Alicia watched, a smile on her lips, as Scully and Jenkins wrestled with the second of the two kites they’d brought out.
The first kite, under Harry’s narrow-eyed guidance, was soaring over the treetops. David was watching Scully and Jenkins, a pitying look in his face; Matthew’s eyes were glued to the blue-and-white kite swooping and swirling above the trees.
“There you are.”
She turned at the words, knowing before she met Tony’s eyes that it was he. “As always.”
Smiling, she gave him her hand; his eyes locking on hers, he raised it to his lips and pressed kisses first to her fingers, then to her palm. Retaining possession, he lowered his hand, fingers sliding about hers, and looked out at the scene in the clearing before them.
“I wonder…” He glanced at her, raised a brow.
“Should I rescue Jenkins and Scully from sinking without trace in your brothers’ estimation?”
She grinned; leaning back against the tree trunk, she gestured. “By all means. I’ll watch and judge your prowess.”
Over numerous afternoons, he’d taught the boys the tricks of keeping their kites aloft. He’d transparently enjoyed the moments; something inside her had rejoiced to see him caught again in what must have been a boyhood pleasure.
“Hmm.” Studying the kite flyers, he hesitated; she got the impression he was steeling himself to resist the lure of the kites and do something else, something he was reluctant to do.
A moment passed, then he looked at her. “Actually, I wanted to speak with you.”
She widened her eyes, inviting him to continue.
Still he hesitated; his eyes searched hers—abruptly she realized he was metaphorically girding his loins.
“I want you to move house.”
She frowned at him. “Move? But why? Waverton Street suits us—”
“For safety reasons. Precautions.” He trapped her gaze.
“I don’t want you or your household subjected to any repeat of yesterday.”