Page 34 of A Lady in Name

“Yes, but I did not think you were so much my senior. Why, it is near six years.” Stefan glanced back from his task of sifting through the volumes in search of one closer to the required time. “You will have to treat Lucy with more respect in future.”

“Fiddlesticks! She would hate it.”

“Yes, I should. Stefan, have you found the right year?”

He had spread one of the volumes out and was intently studying the pages. “This is closer to the time, yes. Ah, here we are.”

Lucy watched in anxious silence as he ran his eye down the page, following one finger that traced a line from one entry to the next. The rhythm of her heart went out of kilter again, and she felt the rise of apprehension mingled with hope. Dion was peering over Stefan’s arm again, but fright kept Lucy from doing likewise.

Stefan was shaking his head. “Nothing so far. I have passed into May, and there is nothing.”

“Does it show christenings as well as weddings?” Lucy was grateful to Dion for asking what she dared not.

“Not in this book, in any event,” said Stefan.

He began to lift off the books, one by one, checking the dates at beginning and end and reading random entries to discover if these records held anything more than marriages. Lucy’s nerves were in shreds by the time he had finished.

“Nothing,” he said, closing the final volume. “How extremely frustrating.”

Lucy fought the drop in spirits. “It was a long shot at best.”

“Perhaps so.” Stefan tapped the cover of the book he had just set down on the pile, a frown between his brows. “If Mr Graydene kept records of everything, as you say, they must be here somewhere.”

Dion eyed him with suspicion. “You cannot be thinking of hunting for them?”

Stefan looked up. “Why not?”

His glance swept across the large dark wood sideboard with its cupboards below and a desk on the other side. Lucy noted Dion’s shocked expression as she followed his gaze.

“You can’t ransack the vestry!”

But Stefan’s eye had shifted, catching Lucy’s gaze. “Do you have any notion where else we might find records?”

Lucy shook her head. “For all I know, Papa kept them locked away. This was his work sanctum, you see. I might beard him in his study, but he always shooed me out when I came in here.”

“Then there is nothing for it but to go on looking.” He moved to the sideboard as he spoke, but checked at the sound of a latch at the outer door.

“We are discovered,” hissed Dion, skipping quickly to the door by which they had entered which led into the interior of the church.

Following Stefan’s lead, Lucy did not move as the old blackened door swung inwards. Unlike Dion, she was well able to guess at the identity of the shadow which was immediately cast upon the stones of the vestry floor. The curate’s thin form followed it, appearing from behind the door.

Seeing the intruders, he threw up his head and let out a gasp. “Miss Lucy! What are you doing here? And my lord too!”

The memory of her last meeting with Mr Waley rushed into Lucy’s mind. What would he think of this invasion after what had passed between them? As much to save face as anything else, she rushed into speech, moving forward to intercept him before he could address himself to the others.

“Forgive this intrusion, Mr Waley, I beg. Mine is the blame. Lord Pennington and his sister are merely trying to assist me.”

The curate’s cheeks were flying two spots of colour, and Lucy recognised the signs of incipient anger. “To do what, may I ask? And in my vestry?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to retort that it was not his vestry, and she had as much right as he to be in it, but prudence kept her from voicing her thoughts. Hastily, she embarked upon a bald explanation.

“This was the obvious place. I am trying to discover some reference to my mother.” She saw his lips purse, and added tartly, “You will not object to my plain speaking, I know, since you are fully cognisant of my past.”

He sniffed. “On a matter of such extreme delicacy, I would not presume to speak. But since you have opened the subject —”

“Cut line, man!” The interruption burst from Stefan. “To the devil with your prosing. Do you know where other records than these may be kept?”

He waved a hand at the pile of volumes which had been the subject of their searches. Aware of the curate’s stiffening, Lucy frowned Stefan down and put out a conciliatory hand.