In the House of Secrets

Chapter Seventeen | Beckett and Dancing

There was one thing that Beckett was absolutely sure of, and that was that Penelope was not fine.

Her muffled groans from the opposite chamber throughout the week were all but driving him up a wall. Mainly because she denied him as if she did not require help whenever he offered to assist her. But Beckett was more than aware that she could barely move without being in all sorts of pain.

So he sat, disgruntled, in his chambers. Waiting.

What, precisely, he was waiting for, Beckett could not be certain. But he also could not get himself to leave. He had no confidence that Penelope wouldn't try something utterly ridiculous if she were left unattended. She kept raving about that blasted ball and insisting on preparing for it when she could barely hold a book in bed without wincing.

"What are you doing?"

Beckett looked up from the letter he was writing to the Queen, an account of their findings thus far in Southampton. Which, incidentally, did not include much.

"Sending correspondence to Buckingham," he replied to Griffin. "Detailing how little we've discovered regarding Lawton."

Griffin dropped into the seat across from Beckett, but he remained quiet. Doubtful he wanted to, though. He had a sort of pinched expression about him, like he was withholding words.

"What?" Beckett grumbled.

"You have been in this room for the better part of today."

"What is your point, Griffin?"

"And yesterday. Perhaps if you actually left your chambers, you might be able to speak to Lawton and uncover more."

Beckett shifted in his seat. "I have spoken to Lawton plenty, and conversation with the man is the worst sort of punishment."

"And that is why you refuse to try harder to gather intel?" Griffin shot him a disbelieving look. "Because the man is a bore?"

Beckett merely grunted in response. Which he immediately realized was a mistake as it seemed to give Griffin the idea that he had free rein to continue talking.

"I have never known you to create excuses when it comes to your duties, Beck."

"I am fulfilling my duties," he said, giving a pointed look to the cracked door between his chamber and Penelope's.

Griffin scoffed. "I think you are taking your instructions to keep an eye on Penelope far too seriously. She is confined to her bed, Beckett. She does not require this amount of attention. And if there is anything that she does need, she has a whole team of servants plus me who can attend to her. Remember? I am here for her."

"She is supposed to be confined to her bed, yes." Beckett lowered his voice. "But each time I hear you depart, she attempts to defy those instructions. I only mean to ensure that she does not hurt herself further because God knows that her maids cannot stop her if she insists upon being stubborn."