Page 26 of The Viscount's Code
“Lord Whitehall?” she called out before she thought better of it, stepping into the room.
“Lady Hope,” he said, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet, running a hand over his hair in an apparent attempt to tame it.
When he said nothing more, Hope was suddenly frozen in awkwardness, unsure what to say or why she had thought this might be a good idea.
“I-I’m sorry,” she said, wringing her hands together. “I heard your sigh from the hall, and I thought I would see what was amiss, or if I could perhaps do anything to help.”
He shook his head. “It’s this code. I thought I had understood it, but it appears that I am unable to break it as I thought I would be able to. I’m afraid that you will be unable to help. As would most people.” He paused, his brows lifting as though a thought had occurred to him. “Except…”
“Except?” she prompted.
“My father learned his craft from another,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, it seemed. “They were rather close in age and remained good friends, even after…everything. He might have an idea.”
“Could you write to him?” Hope asked brightly, glad that she was able to help him come up with an idea.
“No, he’d have to see the books,” Lord Whitehall said, rubbing his chin. “I would have to take them to him. He lives about two days’ journey from here and, from what I know, would have no interest in making the trip. He is something of a recluse.”
Hope’s excitement vanished with his words. “My father will never allow you to take the books from here. Not his, anyway.”
“Likely not,” Lord Whitehall said, before lifting his chin and clasping his hands behind his back. “But perhaps he doesn’t need to know that I have them. I will think on it.”
Hope knew she was being dismissed, but she stepped forward anyway. “I do not suppose I could help you today? Perhaps provide a fresh perspective?”
“Are you so well versed on codes, then?”
Hope took a breath, attempting to shield herself from his words, reminding herself that this was his way of keeping people at a distance, and it had nothing to do with her.
“I believe I provided some help the last time I attempted.”
“You did,” he acknowledged before he returned his gaze to the books and lifted his hands in the air. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”
“That’s the spirit,” she said cheerily. “I shall go breakfast quickly and return. Do not forget to eat yourself.”
“Of course,” he said. “I shall take a break in a while.”
“Very well,” Hope said, lightness in her step as she left the room, pleased that, at least, he hadn’t been completely opposed to her offer. “I shall see you soon.”
She hummed a tune to herself as she entered the breakfast room, where she found her family already sitting around the table.
“Good morning,” she said cheerily, to which they responded in kind. “Where is Lady Whitehall this morning?”
“Still abed,” her mother said. “She said she was tired and requested breakfast in her room.”
“I hope she is well,” Hope said as she filled her plate at the sideboard.
“I’m sure she is fine.”
As Hope took her seat, Faith set her teacup down and looked at the rest of them expectantly.
“I have decided that I am going to pay Percy a visit.”
“Lady Persephone?” her mother said. “Why?”
“You are having such a delightful time with your friend,” Faith said, defensiveness in her tone. “I thought that I could see mine. She extended the invitation for any time during the summer.”
“But Faith, how am I to accompany you when I have Lady Whitehall here as a guest?”
“You do not need to come.”
