The Hazardous Measure of Love: Time Into Time Book Five Page 7

  ‘I had imagined their male friends would set them up in their own houses,’ I said.

  ‘That is the hope of all of them, no doubt,’ Luc agreed. ‘But it is an expensive undertaking. Not that I would know,’ he added, clearly expecting the elbow again.

  ‘Madame will receive you.’ The maid came as far as the half-landing, and we followed her up to the next floor. She tapped on a door, opened it and gestured for us to enter.

  I deliberately stayed behind Luc, which meant I was able to observe the full effect of La Vaillant as she sighted a new prospect.

  ‘Lord Radcliffe! But how delightful!’ She came forward, all heaving lace and fluttering satin ribbons, more or less securing what I suppose was best described as a negligee. It screamed expensive seduction and I backed away even more as the wave of perfume hit me. It wasn’t that she had overdone it – in fact it was quite subtle – but it was so sensual and heady that it made me think of silken sheets. ‘You have come for a little conversation, perhaps?’ Her smile made it clear that talking was not at all what she expected Luc to want.

  Then she saw me and the mood changed. The smile was still there, but somehow the lace and ribbons stopped fluttering, her eyes lost that hot, heavy look and her voice, its purr. ‘Mademoiselle?’

  My clothes were too good and too restrained for her to imagine that I was a maidservant, or one of her sisterhood, for that matter. ‘Cassandra Lawrence,’ I said, smiling my best Now we’re all going to be reasonable about this, aren’t we? smile that I had perfected for those tricky moments on patrol when too much drink has been taken and the appearance of a Special Constable can tip the balance one way or another. ‘Thank you so much for seeing us.’ I let the smile fade into an expression of solemnity and watched her face grow wary. ‘I am afraid we have bad news about a… friend of yours.’

  ‘Who?’ she demanded imperiously.

  ‘Lord Tillingham,’ I said, watching her closely. ‘He is dead.’

  I expected shock – real or feigned. A faint, again, possibly false. Wild sobs, disbelief, anything but what she said.

  ‘Dead? What about my diamonds?’

  ‘Your… Madame, Lord Tillingham is dead. Deceased. Murdered,’ I added, feeling remarkably like a re-run of Monty Python’s Dead Parrot Sketch. No, the Viscount is not resting, stunned or pining for the fjords… I managed to get control of incipient hysteria and said, more moderately, ‘I realise this must be a terrible shock.’

  She shrugged magnificently, causing an agitation under the lace and satin of the boudoir gown that was probably enough to resuscitate most straight males from a deep coma. Luc, certainly, appeared fascinated. Perhaps I was unfair and he was merely baffled by the woman. I refrained from kicking his ankle.

  ‘He is nothing to me. What does it matter that he is dead? Tell that Prescott man, his secretary, to send me the diamonds I was promised.’

  ‘Mr Adrien Prescott has no authority to dispose of any item belonging to the late Viscount,’ Luc said. Quite bravely, I thought, considering that Madame’s eyes were now narrowed, her bosom positively heaving and her right hand was reaching towards the china ornaments on the nearest side table. ‘I will ask him to send you the address of the solicitor dealing with the estate.’

  In a startling change of mood the Frenchwoman hurled herself onto the sofa and began to weep stormily. It was a bravura performance, but I didn’t believe it had anything to do with grief.

  I saw a lacy scrap of handkerchief on the side table and took it to her. ‘He promised you diamonds when you broke up with him?’ I asked. I wasn’t daft enough to word it to sound as though he had dismissed her.

  ‘Of course.’ She reared upright, with no sign of tears on her powdered cheeks. ‘But I would not be swayed. Even so, they were promised to me.’

  ‘He was a meticulous man,’ Luc said. ‘Doubtless he made a memorandum of his intentions.’

  ‘Indeed.’ She nodded graciously to Luc. Not to me. ‘Did you say murdered? By whom? It was a duel?’

  At last, some natural curiosity: I wasn’t expecting concern. ‘No, not a duel. The killer is unknown. Why did you think of a duel?’

  ‘Over me, naturellement.’

  I managed not to roll my eyes. ‘Other than most understandable envy at Lord Tillingham’s er, friendship, with you, can you think who might have a motive to kill him?’

  Again, the shrug, with associated heaving and quivering. I was going to have to get Luc out of there before his blood pressure went off the scale. ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘He did not mention anyone making threats against him? Any strange occurrences? He must have confided in you.’

  ‘No. He did not waste time talking when he was with me.’ The purr was back.

  ‘In that case, thank you for your time, Madame,’ Luc said. He had to clear his throat first, I noticed. ‘We will not take up any more of it.’

  She waved us out gracefully enough, although still with a calculating glint in her eyes as she looked at Luc.

  ‘Thank goodness you had a bodyguard,’ I said as we stood outside again. ‘I could see her adding you to her shopping list. An earl is an advance on a viscount, never mind the fact that you are far more handsome, and certainly more interesting, than poor Tillingham.’

  Luc grinned. ‘Not the most restful female I have ever encountered. A stroll in the park?’ He crooked his arm and turned away from St James’s Street. ‘What was your judgment on her truthfulness?’

  ‘I just do not know,’ I confessed, sliding my hand into the familiar, comforting angle of his elbow. ‘Either she is exactly what she seems, a totally self-centred person who takes no interest in anyone beyond what they can do for her, or she knows far more than she is saying but is exceedingly good at concealing it.’ Luc give a hum of agreement, so I pressed him for his opinion. ‘By all accounts Lord Tillingham was a serious man. Why should he fall for Madame Vaillant, of all people?’

  ‘Because he was not interested in her conversation?’ Luc suggested. ‘He was an earnest and controlled man, by all accounts, but perhaps he enjoyed the complete opposite when it came to his carnal pleasures.’

  ‘That does seem logical.’ I agreed. We emerged from a narrow passageway onto Queen’s Walk, the wide footpath that ran along the eastern edge of Green Park. ‘She would have to be a very fine actress to carry off that air of high-flown drama all the time and yet be able to stab a man in such a controlled, economical manner. If she was furious because he had discarded her, the manner of his killing does not ring true. If she has some other motive, then I confess, I cannot think what it might be.’

  ‘Shall we sit and consider what else we can do before the inquest?’ Luc suggested, dusting down a bench for me to sit in the shade of a lime tree.

  ‘Let’s hope it gives us some more lines of enquiry,’ I said, a feeling of pessimism creeping over me. ‘I just cannot believe Adrien had anything to do with this. What would be his motive? As for his sickly uncle, he appears to have been ill for years and I can’t for the life of me imagine why he should suddenly decide he wanted the title for himself. If it is linked to the inheritance, then we are left to suppose that Adrien’s father committed cold-blooded murder to secure the title. But again, why now?’

  ‘Because Tillingham was about to marry a heathy young bride who might well supply him with an heir within a year of the wedding,’ Luc said. ‘The timing has to be significant, surely? Unless Alexander has the stomach for slaughtering infants, there goes his hopes of the title.’

  ‘Hmm. What about the footman who was dismissed without a character? He would know about Tillingham’s habits – working undisturbed for hours, the open window with access to the terrace, which in turn can be reached from the mews behind.’

  ‘Again, it seems a very calm, considered crime for someone who must have been motivated by anger and resentment,’ Luc said. ‘But I agree, it would be worth tracking the man down to talk to him. He may tell us more about the household than the remaining servants are
prepared to.’

  ‘We haven’t considered them, have we? “The butler did it” is such a cliché.’

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Detective novels of the nineteen twenties and thirties,’ I explained. ‘I’ll lend you some to read. But what about the staff? It sounds as though the Viscount was a stickler for proper behaviour. He may have been more of a domestic tyrant than Adrien realised. Or perhaps he was an utter hypocrite and was looking for a meek little housemaid to take to bed as light relief from Madame.’

  ‘I agree, we should speak to all of them, not just Grainger. But some of them will be called to the inquest tomorrow, so we can build on the Coroner’s questioning.’

  ‘Who else is there?’ I asked. ‘I suppose Horace the youngest brother and his family are too remote from the title to have that as a motive.’

  ‘There might be some other point of friction,’ Luc said. ‘But I cannot think what it might be. We can ask Adrien but, if there had been any blazing rows or deep estrangements, I feel sure he would have mentioned them by now.’

  ‘And Jerald seems to have been indulged with small loans of money,’ I pointed out.

  ‘True.’

  ‘I suppose the second son of the old Viscount, the soldier who was killed in India, didn’t marry and have a son?’ I mused. ‘Now that would be dramatic – the true heir turns up brandishing their birth certificate and their parents’ marriage lines and everyone else is moved down the line of succession. What if he is the Mysterious Illegitimate Male who called on Henry last week, and he isn’t illegitimate after all?’ I leaned back, closed my eyes and tried to imagine how that might play out.

  ‘The military man had kept his marriage a secret, for some reason. His son arrives from India and, before they reveal themselves – not expecting to be the heir, merely wanting to find out about this unknown family before they present themselves – they discover that the current Viscount is about to marry. It makes them think about their own position and they realise that if he dies before he has a chance to father an heir, then they inherit. That would give them an even stronger motive than Adrien’s father has.’

  ‘How likely is it that an unknown heir is out there?’ Luc asked, clearly sceptical. ‘And why on earth would he be the relative supposedly born on the wrong side of the blanket? Either he’s legitimate or he isn’t.’

  ‘How long ago was he killed? The General, was it?’

  ‘Colonel,’ Luc said. ‘The Battle of Assaye. Late September in eighteen hundred and three.’

  ‘Not quite four years ago.’ I counted off on my fingers. ‘How long does it take to travel from India?’

  ‘Four or five months would be exceptionally fast,’ Luc said. ‘It can take a year. Bad weather, storms, a damaged or poor ship – I have heard of people abandoning the vessel they are on and waiting in Cape Town for months for one they felt more confident about.’

  ‘It is possible, then,’ I said, well into my fantasy by now. ‘It would take a while for news to reach his family, if he had one. Then they would be in mourning. Then someone has to make the decision to come to England, make preparations – raise money, perhaps – travel to a port and so forth. And it is possible that they have been in this country for a while, finding their feet. Or plotting,’ I added darkly. ‘That’s why he pretends to be illegitimate to start with, in order to investigate the family.’

  ‘I think it highly unlikely.’ Luc seemed more amused than scornful. ‘Surely, if there was a legitimate family in India they would have been known to the military authorities – the Colonel would have definitely left a will with his regiment’s clerks. And any legitimate wife would have written to the English family as a matter of courtesy, even if she had been left well-provided for and was in no need of support.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ I said reluctantly, seeing my wildly romantic tale reduced to a heap of improbabilities. ‘It was just such a dramatic theory, especially if he had married an Indian woman. That would have made a stir in the ton.’

  Luc shrugged. ‘Not particularly. It happens less now, but the East India Company used to positively encourage their senior officers to forge legitimate local connections through marriage. Many of the noble families of England have members who are part-Indian.’

  I was theorising based on Victorian and Edwardian attitudes to India, I realised, and, if a respectable Indian bride would have been acceptable, then there went any motive for secrecy. ‘You are right,’ I said with a sigh. ‘If there was a legitimate heir, they would have made themselves known by now.’

  We watched as two small children accompanied by a huge fluffy dog and a distracted nursemaid came past, heading for the small herd of cows grazing in the distance. That wasn’t going to end well…

  ‘There is no sign of theft or forced entry, no threatening letters besides the one in the clock, no mention of arguments, disputes or enemies.’ Luc was almost taking to himself, working through possibilities. ‘We need to find this footman, but I think we should also find out more about Adrien’s oldest brother, Marcus, and their father. They have the most obvious motive and Alexander was the last person we know of from outside the household who was in that room.’

  ‘And there is no explanation for that mysterious note summoning him.’

  ‘Yes, that needs investigating. I wonder if it actually existed.’

  ‘There seems to be a lot of loose ends and nothing to catch hold of.’ The pessimism was back. ‘We can hardly expect Adrien to tell us anything incriminating about his father and brother and the note at the reception is too vague to follow up.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Luc said, and got to his feet. ‘We can go to the Palace and see if anyone knows how it was delivered. It’s on our way back in any case.’

  ‘Palace?’ I glanced around, distracted by distant shrieks. The large fluffy dog was racing away pursued by the herd of cows and the children were screaming their heads off. ‘Cattle can be dangerous. Do you think we ought to move those children? Ah, no, the dog’s vanished and the cows have given up.’ They appeared to have instantly forgotten their outrage and were cropping the grass again with bovine indifference. I tried to imagine their attitude if they were transplanted to the modern day Green Park with picnicking office workers, skateboarders and joggers. The thought cheered me up a little.

  ‘Palace?’ I repeated as we emerged into Cleveland Place.

  ‘Earl,’ Luc said with a grin. We walked past the beautiful red brick Tudor front of the Palace, so unchanged in my time that it always made me feel uneasily as though I was in both centuries at once, around a corner and then across a courtyard.

  Chapter Seven

  As we entered the Palace courtyard I was braced for security to rush out shouting at us, or a guard to shove a musket in our face, but we arrived unchallenged at a heavily studded door. Luc rang and the footman who answered it greeted him as, ‘My lord.’

  In we went without anyone taking the slightest notice of me while Luc explained to the footman what we wanted. To be honest I wasn’t paying much attention to them by this point. I was in a palace – admittedly not in the posh bit – and I was going to soak up all the detail.

  I did surface when Luc was speaking to a more senior type in very fancy livery who offered us seats while he went in search of someone who might know about the message. It seemed a long shot to me. How many footmen did this place employ, for goodness sake?

  A lot, it turned out, but they were also well organised and the ones who had served at the reception could be identified. After half an hour we were speaking to a bewigged young man with startling red eyebrows. Yes, he had taken the note to Mr Prescott. No, he had no idea who delivered it because it was found on a side table at the entrance, clearly addressed to Mr Alexander Prescott. It had taken him a few minutes to locate the correct Mr Prescott as there were five present.

  He agreed that the note was left in a place where it could easily be seen, because a footman was normally stationed there to assist arriving guests. I
t had been placed on the table while he was away for a few moments directing an elderly gentleman to the retiring room.

  ‘So who could have entered unchallenged and got that far?’ I asked him. ‘Would it have had to have been a member of the Palace staff or a guest?’

  ‘It would have been one or the other, yes, ma’am.’

  ‘We know how the message was delivered,’ I said to Luc as we left the Palace and walked along Pall Mall. ‘But we are still no nearer to discovering who left it. Any guest could have left it, or any member of staff, and anyone could have slipped a servant a few coins to deliver it.’

  ‘In fact Alexander Prescott could have dropped it there himself,’ Luc said. ‘Then he would have a witness to it being handed to him.’

  ‘I didn’t think of that,’ I admitted. ‘Oh dear, back to the evidence boards with nothing very useful to add.’

  We called in on Lord Tillingham’s house on the way home and discovered that Adrien, Grainger the butler, and the footmen, had all been summoned to the inquest.

  ‘I expect that my father has as well,’ he said, sounding thoroughly weary and depressed. ‘He will not be back from Cambridge until late this evening, I have no doubt.’

  ‘What is wrong?’ I asked him. ‘I mean, what has changed? You sound very low.’

  ‘I have been writing to Rowena. Miss McNeil, I should say. Her father had been quite favourably impressed by my position here and my prospects, but now…’ He shrugged. ‘I am afraid he will refuse me permission to court her.’

  ‘The executors will require your assistance for some time, I imagine,’ Luc said briskly. ‘You are not out of employment yet. The new Viscount will require your assistance also, although I realise that he is not going to have the active political career that you had hoped to be part of.’

  ‘True. Thank you, I had allowed myself to become unduly discouraged,’ Adrien said, with what I suspected was a brave smile. Luc was right in the short term, but sooner or later Adrien was going to have to find a new employer. Or his sick uncle’s demise would change his fortunes for him.