by Louise Allen
‘But then we’re letting him off the hook for the blackmail. If we go to him about this he’ll also cover up for both of them and we have no proof,’ I pointed out. ‘All your family will still be in danger.’
‘We need proof and then we need de Hautmont’s support. He’ll know who to go to in the Home Office. The last thing we want is to approach someone who Reece has in his pocket.’
‘And we need to solve the murder,’ Garrick added. ‘If we do not, then we have a loose end that could make this entire thing unravel.’
I had that disconcerting sensation of a thread of an idea whisking through my mind and then away. It was almost like the sort of thing you see out of the corner of your eye at dusk – gone the moment you turn to confront it. ‘There was something someone said at the theatre,’ I murmured. ‘Something that gave me an idea. No, not even an idea, just… Oh, I don’t know. And I don’t know who said it or what it was now.’
‘Sleep on it,’ James said. ‘Speaking of which, I had better go back to St James’s Square before Mama starts to fret.’
The carriage is waiting,’ Garrick said. ‘And the lads are on the alert for trouble.’
‘So am I,’ James said grimly. He stood up, lifted his cane and slid a slender blade from it with a twist of his wrist. ‘It would be a pleasure to have either of the Reeces at the end of this.’
When he was gone Garrick vanished into the service area with the mugs. I crouched down to rake out the coals and put the screen round the fire and stayed on the hearth rug, leaning against Luc’s knee. ‘Why are we depressed? We’re getting somewhere at last.’
‘Because of what happened to Coates, I suppose. Because James is distressed.’
And has just discovered his own lover was not the man he believed him to be. ‘And because those two selfish bastards think they can use people like pawns for their own ends,’ I added.
‘Yes.’ Luc didn’t move.
He was wearing full evening dress with tight black knitted silk breeches, white silk stockings. I twisted round, unfastened the buckles at the nearest knee and rolled down the stocking.
‘What are you doing?’ He straightened up.
‘Undressing you.’ I slid his foot out of the shoe, peeled off the stocking and started to play with his toes.
‘You wouldn’t care to do it a little faster, would you?’ The flat note had gone from his voice. A quick glance showed that he was sitting up and taking notice in all areas.
‘No.’ I reached for the other buckle and found the feathers and diamond circlet plucked from my head. ‘That’s not going to make me any faster.’ There was a growl, so I disposed of the other shoe and stocking, came up on my knees between his thighs and started on his neck cloth.
Luc removed my earrings and began to work on the catch of the necklace which involved a great deal of caressing and tickling at the back of my neck. I managed – somehow – to remove the yard or so of starched muslin without impaling him on his sapphire stick-pin and tackled his waistcoat buttons.
‘Has anyone told you that you have a magnificently flat stomach?’ I asked as I slid the flat of one hand down the waistband of his breeches and tried to haul out his shirt.
‘Frequently. Garrick speaks of little else.’ His breath was coming shorter now so I used my free hand to caress the interesting evidence that I was not the only one finding this exciting. ‘Stop that.’ He grabbed the wandering hand, lifted it and unclasped the bracelet, then took the fingertips of my glove between his teeth and began to pull.
‘Luc – ’
‘Yes?’ he said through clenched teeth.
‘We’re getting tangled.’
‘Yes.’ The glove came off, he hauled my other hand free of his waistband and simply precipitated the pair of us onto the hearthrug in a ravel of stockings, diamonds and feathers. ‘Better?’
I pushed his coat from his shoulders. ‘Much.’ His waistcoat followed it and Luc fought his way out of his shirt.
We knelt there panting a bit, then he removed my other bracelet and stripped off the remaining glove. ‘You are wearing far too much.’
I really didn’t want to know how Luc had become so adept at undressing a woman, I thought as I found myself tipped backwards onto the rug dressed in nothing but stockings and garters. ‘Ow!’
‘What?’ Luc loomed over me, his hands on the fastenings of his breeches.
‘I think I sat on an earring.’
He rolled me over. ‘You had. You now have a very charming impression of it on your equally charming left buttock.’ He kissed it, I wriggled and got a face full of ostrich feathers which made me sneeze.
While I was ineffectually batting away moulting plumes he stood up, stripped off his breeches, flipped me back over again and knelt between my legs. ‘Now then…’
I came up on my elbows, gazed down at the top of his ruffled dark head, gave a small shriek as his tongue started to do wonderful things and flopped back, the room spinning round me, upside down.
Upside down… ‘Lucian!’ I sat up, shook his shoulder until he lifted his head.
‘What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?’
‘No, nothing’s wrong. Give me a pencil and paper.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve realised what was bothering me and, frankly, if you keep doing that I’ll forget my own name, so I must write it down. Now.’
‘Your name?’ Really, it seemed to be true that men couldn’t multi-task…
‘The idea. Hurry up, I was enjoying that.’
‘So I would hope,’ he grumbled. But he reached up to the side table and handed me a notebook and pencil.
I scribbled, batting him off when he tried to read what I had written. ‘Later.’ I flopped back down. ‘Much later.’
Next morning two odd stockings were draped across the little table next to a collection of diamond jewellery, some very battered feathers, one kid glove with tooth marks in it and a notebook with crumpled pages.
‘Do you think Garrick is hinting that you don’t pay him enough?’ I asked, eyeing the evidence of our debauchery. ‘I thought I’d picked up all my things and I’d imagined he’d put the odds and ends back in our rooms. That looks suspiciously like a reproof.’
Luc grimaced. ‘His sense of humour getting the better of him, more like.’ He handed me the notebook. ‘What did you think of last night? I have to say your timing is about as appropriate as Garrick’s humour.’
I flattened the pages and read out loud, ‘Upside down – the code. And recheck the list of patients. How accurate is Garrick? He finished listing the patients in the open ledgers – would he skip or miss things?’
‘No.’ Luc was definite. ‘He is meticulous. I always get him to check my estate managers’ accounts – he can pick up the tiniest things they overlook. So, what does this mean?’
‘After breakfast,’ I said. ‘I think I can see a crack in the murder case. But I need coffee. And please, put those diamonds away, it makes me nervous seeing them lying about like that.’
Garrick joined us after breakfast and I explained my revelation. ‘The problem is, we were scanning the ledgers looking for ladies who might have developed an infatuation with Talbot and I simply didn’t think to see who wasn’t there. Luc, could you and Garrick check the list of names from the other ledgers, the list of patients. I want to find Miss Reece.’
I left them poring over the transcripts and opened the first of the coded ledgers, reached for paper and pencil and made a list of numbers and letters. Then I looked at the first entry. It took me all of twenty minutes, then I sat back. ‘Cracked it!’
They came and stood behind me, one at each shoulder. I pushed the paper so they could read it.
71912141181213
214269241905
912822 241277262022
7418138
200
*
THOMPSON
2 MARCH 05
ROSE COTTAGE
TWINS
200
‘It w
as the one thing we didn’t try because we were looking for complexity. He simply inverted the alphabet – we should have been looking at it upside down. As James said, we were the wrong way up. A equals 26, Z equals 1. What Talbot wanted was something to confuse anyone who caught an accidental glimpse of the ledgers if he left one out by accident – perhaps Bromley or a maid. After all, he had them very securely hidden – he didn’t need to use some uncrackable code.
‘So, we have the surname of the patient, the date, the place where he sent them to have the baby, the outcome and, I’d guess the 200 is the fee. Two hundred pounds or guineas.’
‘Brilliant,’ Luc said, bending to kiss me. ‘But why are we looking for Miss Reece? We know she was a patient, she admitted it openly.’
‘I think she’s the missing corner of the puzzle that James mentioned. You carry on searching – it is important to find her.’
Now I knew what I was looking for I wrote out a coded word, took the newest ledger, and began to scan it looking for that word. I had no desire to know anyone else’s secrets.
I found it quite quickly. 922222422 – REECE. I deciphered the rest and waited until the men had finished their check.
‘Miss Reece is definitely not in the ledgers of patients,’ Luc said.
‘But she is in here. Look.’ I ran one finger along the entry. ‘Reece, 15 Feb 07. Travis House. Boy. 250.’
Luc swore softly under his breath. ‘So why did she say she was a patient?’
‘She was covering herself in case she let something slip. She explained knowing him by saying she had consulted him over a very common complaint, something she could speak about from personal knowledge. All women have painful periods now and again. And she was the only one of the ladies who said they didn’t like Talbot. Everyone else said he was sympathetic, had a good bedside manner.’
‘Her parents presumably know?’ Luc asked.
‘Oh yes. This story about being sent off in disgrace because she was refusing a marriage arrangement is brilliant. It would account for any amount of miserable looks on one side and disapproval on the other and both Annabelle and her mother could mention it freely and get nothing but sympathy from their respective peer groups. No wonder she got the weather in Harrogate wrong and had nothing to say about the entertainments and sights up there – she has never set foot in the place.’
Something else occurred to me. ‘Luc – your mother said Annabelle’s looks had improved, that she’d not had a good figure. Now she has a well-developed bust, just as you’d expect after she’d had a baby.’
‘That links the Reeces to Talbot,’ Garrick said, sitting down and shuffling the lists of patients back into order. ‘But why would they murder him? Those secret ledgers seem to go back years – he must have a reputation for absolute discretion or these people wouldn’t trust him to look at their wives’ cracked nipples, let alone deal with illegitimate grandchildren. Surely better to do nothing to draw attention to the man, not have Coroners and constables trampling about his offices.’
‘I don’t think Sir Thomas or Lady Reece, or even Elliott, killed Talbot,’ I said slowly. ‘I think Annabelle fell in love with him. And Annabelle murdered him.’
Chapter Twenty Two
‘Annabelle Reece?’ James stared at us blankly. He had come in half an hour after I had cracked the code and found us sitting over cups of coffee coming to terms with the idea. Now he had to grasp it. ‘You are saying that young lady took a poker and beat Philip’s head in?’
‘Yes,’ Luc said. ‘Now we have to work out why and how we are going to get a confession out of her.’
‘Bloody hell. Sorry.’ James cast the apology in my direction as he sat down with a thump, looking as though someone had cut the strings of a marionette. ‘But why?’
‘I think because she had fallen in love with him and something happened to make her fall out of love so violently that she was possessed with a murderous rage,’ I said. ‘Perhaps she went to him, poured out her feelings and he told her it was impossible and why.’
James shook his head. ‘Philip wouldn’t be that rash. He’d have the same repertoire of stories for dealing with women who start to fall for him as the rest of us do. He would have made a vow of celibacy after a loved one died or he’d got a secret fiancée but he’d got to win round her grandfather or he’d suffered an embarrassing wound and couldn’t possibly ask a woman to marry him.’
‘Well, whatever it is, we have to get a confession out of her and in front of reliable, neutral witnesses,’ Luc said, raking his fingers through his hair.
‘Your mother?’ I suggested. ‘With a magistrate and the Coroner behind a screen?’
‘You saw them,’ James said. ‘Can you see either of them agreeing to that?’
‘But I know who would,’ Luc said. ‘Sir William Abernathy, the magistrate who dealt with Lord Cottingham when Cassie was here before. He’s very senior, very energetic and he’ll believe us. He’s got the influence to be able to bring another reliable witness with him – I’d suggest a lawyer.’
‘How on earth do we get Miss Reece away from her parents for us to try this?’ I asked, puzzling over the logistics. ‘Her father, at least, wouldn’t let me take her out for a drive or a shopping trip, he knows I’m associated with you.’ Then I had a sudden inspiration. ‘I know – Chloe. But we’d have to tell her, I can’t involve her without letting her know what she has let herself in for in case there are repercussions.’
We all piled into the carriage and went to the Town house in the end. Lady Radcliffe was shocked, angry, then fascinated. She took the news about Coates and Talbot being lovers with merely a blink and she nodded agreement with our assessment of both Sir Thomas and Elliott’s actions and our interpretation of what had happened with Talbot.
‘I am appalled,’ she said finally. ‘The poor girl. And what about the baby?’
‘That’s been worrying me too,’ I confessed. The men all looked blank. ‘Annabelle’s baby,’ I snapped. ‘The only innocent in all of this. What’s happened to him?’
‘We will find out, Cassandra dear.’ Lady Radcliffe leaned over and patted my hand. ‘They might have arranged a perfectly respectable and kind foster home, of course, but one does hear such dreadful stories…’
I was coming to terms with being addressed as Cassandra dear by Luc’s mother when I surfaced to hear him announce he was off to find Sir William and that I had better locate Lady Turnham and secure her assistance.
‘I won’t tell her who it is about at first, not until she agrees to help,’ I said, thinking aloud. ‘I’ll go now.’
‘Garrick, go with Cassandra,’ Luc said. ‘James, with me. Mama, these are probably safest here.’ He dumped the ledgers and the transcriptions on the table. ‘With any luck we can have this solved tomorrow.’
But what happens to Annabelle, I wondered. What happens to her child?
I had expected that sitting in a closet with Sir William Abernathy, Justice of the Peace and late General in His Majesty’s armies, would be like sharing space with a firecracker. The last time I had seen him he was waving his one arm around, rattling off orders and generally behaving as though he was about to lead a cavalry charge. But now he held his tall, thin body still on the hard chair beside mine and said nothing as Percival Grainger, King’s Counsel and prominent prosecuting attorney, settled his rather podgier frame on my other side.
Then Grainger’s clerk, a thin redhead, slipped round the screen in front of us, adjusted it and curled down at our feet, notebook in hand. ‘They are coming,’ he breathed.
I felt the two men on either side of me look up, as I did, out through the open closet door, over the top of the screen, to where a mirror had been fixed high up on the wall, its slanting top touching the ceiling. To anyone with their back to it, it would be invisible but it gave us – and Garrick and the two armed men in the closet behind a screen on the opposite side of the drawing room – a clear view of the space between and of Luc’s mother sitting behind an unusua
lly substantial tea table. No-one was taking any chances with Lady Radcliffe’s safety.
I couldn’t see the doors open but I heard the butler. ‘Lady Turnham and Miss Reece, my lady.’
‘Do come in, Miss Reece. Thank you so much, Lady Turnham.’ It was a clear dismissal. Chloe knew what was going on but, just in case things went pear-shaped, we were keeping her out of the line of sight.
I saw Annabelle in the mirror now, her head turned as Chloe closed the door behind her. ‘Lady Radcliffe? I do not understand. Lady Turnham suggested we call but – ’
‘Do come and sit down, Annabelle. And have a cup of tea.’ There was, indeed a pot, but no tea urn full of scalding water. Just in case.
The habit of politeness must have brought Annabelle across the room. She sat down, her expression hidden from us. ‘Thank you.’ She took the cup and set it down immediately. ‘Lady Radcliffe?’
‘I know about the baby, dear. No, sit down again, the door is locked.’ It wasn’t, but it was a useful lie.
‘You…’
‘It must have been very distressing for you,’ Lady Radcliffe said. ‘I hope they were able to find a good home for him – that would have helped, I imagine.’
‘I… Yes. Some distant cousins. Mama heard they couldn’t have children and told them he was the son of the daughter of a friend of hers.’ Annabelle’s voice broke. ‘I met them once, they are… good people. How did you know?’
‘I cannot tell you that. It isn’t widely known, believe me. Who is the father?’
Annabelle’s head came up sharply. ‘You don’t know?’ She laughed, a bitter gasp of sound. ‘My dear cousin Elliott, of course.’
‘You were lovers?’ She hid it well, but I could sense the shock in Lady Radcliffe, a surprise as great as my own.
‘Lovers? Him? No. He gave me wine until I was drunk and then he… I rather liked him before, we used to flirt, so I didn’t mind. He didn’t force me, you know. But afterwards, I realised he didn’t care about me. When I found out about the baby he told Papa that he was so sorry and I had egged him on to drink and kissed him and he couldn’t help himself.’
