The Hazardous Measure of Love: Time Into Time Book Five

by Louise Allen

  ‘By whom?’ he asked, his voice steady. ‘And when? Is that why he was not here when I came in answer to his message?’

  ‘He was here,’ Luc said. ‘His body was found behind his desk this morning.’

  ‘Behind – My God.’ This time he made me no apology for his language.

  ‘Perhaps you can explain what occurred when you called last night,’ Sir William said. ‘It will assist me in establishing the facts.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ Prescott ran one hand through his hair. ‘We were at the Palace.’ He made a vague gesture towards where St James’s Palace lay. ‘It was a reception for gentlemen prominent in agricultural improvement. That is an interest of mine, and of my brother Horace and his sons, but it was not my usual kind of evening’s entertainment,’ he added with a flash of dry humour. ‘I do not welcome getting rigged out in Court dress. However, there it was, one cannot decline such an honour without good reason and I had business that made the journey less wasteful than it might have been otherwise. A footman brought me the note whilst we were assembling. No members of the Royal family were present yet and, given that I could walk here in five minutes, I thought it best to come.’

  ‘Did you recognise the handwriting?’ Luc asked.

  ‘I did not pay it any attention. How are you involved in this matter, my lord?’

  ‘As a neighbour and as a friend of your son,’ Luc said calmly. ‘I have some experience in these matters, as Sir William can vouch.’

  ‘I see.’ Alexander looked somewhat put out. ‘And Miss Lawrence?’

  ‘Miss Lawrence is also a friend of mine,’ Adrien said, with a fleeting smile that I returned. ‘I am hoping that she will come with me to break the news to Miss Jordan.’

  ‘Good heavens, yes. The poor girl! Tillingham’s betrothed, you know,’ he added as an aside to Sir William.

  ‘You received this note, Mr Prescott,’ Sir William said, calling us to order. ‘Do you still have it?’

  ‘No. I think I simply dropped it back on the salver the footman brought it on. I was in haste, as you may imagine.’

  ‘You arrived here, were admitted by the butler and he announced you?’ he asked, testing Grainger’s version of events.

  ‘No. Grainger admitted me, then I walked through, tapped on the study door and let myself in. The room was empty so I sat down and waited. When there was no sign of my nephew I returned to the reception, fortunately arriving just before the Prince of Wales’s entrance.’

  ‘You were not surprised by Lord Tillingham’s failure to meet you?’

  ‘I was puzzled and not a little annoyed. It was not like my nephew to be careless or inconsiderate. I expected a note of explanation this morning and, when none appeared, I intended to call after luncheon to enquire. To think I sat there and all the time he was lying wounded.’ He covered his eyes with his hand for a moment. ‘Perhaps I could have saved him.’

  ‘No,’ Sir William said. ‘It was an immediately mortal wound. He cannot have suffered.’

  There was silence while Adrien’s father recovered himself. I scribbled a question in my notebook and tilted it for Luc to read.

  He nodded. ‘Was the study window open, Mr Prescott?’

  The older man frowned. ‘Let me think… No. At least, I am sure it was not open wide. The curtains had not been drawn closed. The room was quite warm and a breeze would have been welcome, as I had walked briskly from the Palace.’ The reason for the question appeared to strike him. ‘I cannot say whether or not it was unlatched. It may even have been open an inch or so.’

  ‘And you noticed nothing out of place in the study?’

  ‘Nothing. My nephew was an orderly man and kept everything just so. There was no sign of disorder. There were papers on his side of the desk, somewhat spread out, that was all.’

  ‘You did not look around? Perhaps stroll about studying the pictures or looking at books while you waited?’

  ‘Certainly not. I would not presume to make myself at home in Tillingham’s private rooms.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb as though warding off a headache. ‘I must go to Cambridge. This is not news I can break to my brother Frederick by letter.’

  I saw Luc glance at the magistrate and Sir William nodded. ‘Of course, Mr Prescott. You will, however, be called to attend the inquest. There is to be a post-mortem examination, so I imagine that it can be put off for perhaps two days. Will that give you sufficient time?’

  ‘I will return home and set off immediately by post chaise. I will reach Cambridge tonight, break the news to my brother in the morning and return to London as soon as I am able to leave him, but certainly by the day after tomorrow. Frederick will understand the necessity.’

  ‘I will write to the rest of the family, Father,’ Adrien said. ‘I imagine the funeral will be at Tillingham Hall?’

  Mr Prescott nodded. ‘The body must be interred in the family vault. At least it will not be too far for Frederick to manage, unless there has been a severe deterioration in his condition.’ He sighed heavily. ‘If that is all, Sir William?’

  ‘It is for now, thank you. I gather from what you say that Doctor Prescott is in very frail health?’

  ‘He is bedridden and will need to be carried to the carriage,’ Mr Prescott said, already on his feet. ‘I can assure you, Sir William, that he is in no condition to travel to London, let alone murder his nephew, if that is what you are considering,’ he added waspishly. ‘I bid you good day. Lord Radcliffe, Miss Lawrence. Adrien, kindly send instructions to the Hall so they may prepare for a large party of guests.’

  ‘Certainly, sir. I will see you out.’

  As they left Sir William turned to Luc, eyebrows raised. ‘Indeed, it does seem unlikely that a dying academic could make the journey to London, or would have the motive to send an assassin in his stead.’

  ‘Has he sons, though?’ I asked.

  Both men shook their heads. ‘Not legitimate ones, at any rate,’ Luc said. ‘Fellows of Cambridge or Oxford colleges are single. There is nothing to stop them marrying if they leave that post – many take holy orders and marry when they are appointed to a parish – but a Fellow is, by definition, unmarried.’

  Adrien came back looking decidedly more strained, if that were possible. ‘I keep thinking of more things that must be done,’ he said, sinking into a chair. ‘I suppose that, after my father and Uncle Frederick, the next person who must be told is Arabella. Miss Jordan, that is.’

  ‘Percival Jordan’s eldest daughter?’ Luc queried. ‘Lord Jordan,’ he clarified for me.

  Presumably a baron. Luke had been unable to explain to me why barons were only ever referred to as Lord Whoever and never as Baron Whoever, except in legal documents. He had simply shrugged and said that was the rule and added that they were the lowest rank of aristocrats, because baronets, the next in precedence, were not able to sit in the House of Lords.

  I jerked my attention back from the labyrinthine byways of the English aristocracy to concentrate on what Adrien was saying. He clearly wanted some company when he broke the news and that was to be me.

  ‘Your cousin was what, in his thirties?’ I asked.

  He nodded. ‘Thirty two.’

  ‘How old is Miss Jordan?’

  ‘Nineteen,’ Adrien said.

  ‘A love match?’ I enquired, meaning it sarcastically.

  He shook his head, taking the question at its face value. ‘The families know each other and her father’s estate is adjacent to Prescott lands in Buckinghamshire. It was very suitable.’

  I gave him a hard stare. For someone in love himself, he was pretty insensitive about a girl being married off to man almost twice her age because it was suitable, but all I said was, ‘We had better go and do it now, before rumours spread.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He glanced at Luc as though to get permission to go off with me.

  Luc stared blandly back. ‘Mama should have returned. I would ask her to accompany you, if I were you. She knows Lady J
ordan.’

  We left Luc and Sir William and walked the few steps to Luc’s house to find that not only was Lady Radcliffe at home, but also the twins who seemed undecided about who they were happiest to see – me or Adrien.

  After I had been bowed to and then soundly kissed and Adrien told all about the wonderful, huge, dog they had seen in the park and Nanny Yates had shooed them upstairs, I told Luc’s mother what had happened and asked if she could accompany us.

  ‘Of course. But not yet,’ she said with a glance at the clock. ‘It is almost half past one already and none of us have had any luncheon – and we can hardly arrive in the middle of their meal, either. Come and tell me what has happened while we eat.’

  Chapter Four

  The food did Adrien good, I could see. His colour came back and he summarised the situation coherently for Lady Radcliffe.

  We set out as soon as the clock struck two and it took only a few minutes by carriage to Chesterfield Hill, just to the west of Berkeley Square. The house was smart, neat, with three stories above a sunken service area. Clearly there was some money here. The groom knocked and we all got down from the carriage, ready to follow Lady Radcliffe in.

  As I expected, she gained admittance, despite the hour being early for visiting, and we were shown into a pleasant drawing room at the front of the house. Lady Jordan appeared within a few minutes.

  ‘Lady Radcliffe, what a pleasant surprise. Oh. And Mr Prescott and –?’

  ‘Miss Lawrence. Lady Jordan, I fear we are the bearers of some very bad news for Miss Jordan. May we sit down?’

  Our hostess looked confused, rather than worried, but we all sat. Lady Radcliffe told her directly, without any vague euphemisms. ‘I very much regret to tell you that Lord Tillingham has been attacked. He was found dead this morning.’

  Lady Jordan gaped at her, then gasped, then fell back in her chair.

  Lady Radcliffe removed a phial from her reticule and handed it to me. ‘I thought we might need this.’

  I wafted it under Lady Jordan’s nose until she sat up, waved me away and groped for a handkerchief. ‘Oh, how horrible! Was it footpads?’

  ‘Lord Tillingham was murdered in his own home. We do not know by whom or for what reason,’ Adrien said.

  Lady Jordan burst into tears. ‘How can I tell Arabella? The poor child!’

  ‘Would you like me to break it to her?’ Adrien asked. ‘We have known each other since childhood, she might find it easier coming from me, perhaps?’

  Not the most tactful way of putting it, but Lady Jordan simply waved him towards the door. ‘Oh, you dear boy. She is in the little sitting room at the back on the first floor.’ She went back to sobbing.

  I left Lady Radcliffe to try and soothe her and followed Adrien out. ‘You have known her that long?’ I asked as we went up the stairs.

  ‘Oh yes. We all knew the family – they are such close neighbours in Buckinghamshire. She has two sisters and three brothers. In here.’ He tapped on a door and opened it. ‘Arabella, may we come in? This is Miss Lawrence, a friend of mine.’

  Arabella Jordan was small, slim, brunette and sweetly pretty. She smiled and rose when she saw Adrien and held out her hands to him. ‘What a nice surprise to see you, Adrien. Oh, I suppose you have a message from Lord Tillingham?’ The smile vanished, leaving a cool formality behind.

  ‘I have come from him,’ Adrien said. ‘Bella, I have bad news and there is no easy way to tell you except straight out. Will you not sit down?’

  ‘Tell me.’ She stared at him, wide-eyed, still on her feet. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘Lord Tillingham – Henry – has… has died.’

  ‘Oh.’ She sat down abruptly, then clapped her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes. I expected sobs, gasps, but after a moment she opened her eyes then lowered her hands slowly, as though she might need to hold back words again at any moment. ‘Who killed him?’

  It took us both aback. Adrien just stared at her, so I said, ‘What makes you think he was murdered?’

  She flinched at the word but said, steadily enough, ‘He was perfectly healthy. We are in London, so he would not be riding fast or going shooting or anything like that. So, it was an accident?’

  She seemed far too calm, but I knew that shock takes people in many different ways. ‘No. It was not an accident and you are quite correct, he was murdered.’ I expected her to fall apart at that but, although she went white and she gave a little gasp, her back straightened and her fists clenched in her lap.

  Adrien, who had half-risen from his seat, his hand held out as though to comfort her, sat down again. He knew her well and, it seemed, he found her reaction even more confusing than I did.

  ‘Do they know who did it?’ she asked again. No, Did he suffer? Or, What happened? Or even, Are you absolutely certain? In my experience (fortunately very limited) and from my police training, I knew that the most common reaction to news of an unexpected death was denial, not this immediate acceptance of a quite shocking fact.

  ‘We have no idea who was responsible. Have you some idea who might have killed your betrothed?’ I asked bluntly.

  If anything, she became paler. ‘No. Of course not. How could I? How would I have any idea who his enemies were?’

  Then it seemed to hit her. She made a choking sound, put her hands over her face and burst into tears. Adrien shot out of his chair and went to take her in his arms and she collapsed, sobbing wildly, on his shoulder.

  I went downstairs and found Lady Radcliffe and Lady Jordan. ‘She is very distressed,’ I told them. ‘Adrien is comforting her.’

  If Lady Jordan had rushed out to chaperone her daughter, left alone with a man, I would not have been surprised, but she nodded and stayed where she was. ‘Such a good friend,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘Would you like me to stay?’ Lady Radcliffe offered.

  ‘No. No, thank you for coming. I appreciate such thoughtfulness.’ Lady Jordan still sounded utterly miserable, but at least she seemed rather more focused now.

  ‘Do let me know if there is anything I can do,’ Lady Radcliffe said.

  ‘How was Arabella?’ she asked when we were driving back to St James’s Square, leaving Adrien behind.

  ‘Strange,’ I said. ‘Do you mind if I tell you and Luc together? I need to think about my impressions a little more.’

  * * *

  We found that Luc had come home and that Garrick and Carola, his wife, had returned from Greenwich. Luc had told them the news and we all gathered in the drawing room. Carola had her feet up on a stool because Garrick was fussing, but otherwise it was barely possible to tell that she was pregnant. There were months to go yet, as she kept telling her husband.

  ‘How was Miss Jordan?’ Luc asked.

  ‘I found her very confusing,’ I admitted. ‘When told only that Lord Tillingham was dead, she immediately asked who had killed him. When we confirmed that he had, in fact, been murdered she again asked who did it. It was only then that she collapsed and began weeping. I wasn’t –’ I broke off, reluctant to be bitchy about a young woman I didn’t know.

  ‘Go on,’ Garrick urged.

  ‘I wondered whether the tears were entirely genuine. I couldn’t see her face and she cast herself into Adrien’s arms.’

  ‘Shock takes many forms,’ Carola said. She was a herbalist and had far more experience with disease and distress than I had.

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘I thought that too. But she didn’t ask how he died, or whether he lingered or suffered. Or when it happened, who found him – not any of the things you would expect.’

  ‘I suppose that she knew him well, if they were betrothed,’ Carola said. ‘He may have mentioned enemies –’

  ‘Or she may have thought him the kind of man likely to be murdered,’ James said. He had been sitting quietly to one side with Kit Lyle, who was looking a touch taken aback by three women discussing murder.

  ‘He was almost twice her age and Adrien said it was not a love match. Just
how well did she know him, do you think?’ I retorted.

  Something about Arabella’s responses was troubling me. It was not what she had said, exactly… I couldn’t put my finger on it. ‘What we need are the boards to begin to get all the evidence and speculation organised.’

  ‘I must go and see the boys,’ Luc said, getting up. ‘I’ll be down in an hour.’

  ‘I have the boards we used last time. I’ll get them if you can give me a hand, James,’ Garrick said, standing up, and the three of them went out.

  ‘It is the way we deal with all the elements of an investigation,’ I explained to Kit. ‘If you can help me move the ornaments off that console table, we can prop them up there.’ Then I remembered that we weren’t in Luc’s old rooms in Albany and looked across to Lady Radcliffe. ‘If that is all right? We can move them into the study before dinner, but there is more room in here.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I am not certain there is a great deal I can contribute at the moment, so I will go and speak to the staff and discover what they know about Lord Tillingham’s household.’

  She went out leaving Kit, who was still regarding me in a somewhat bemused manner. I went and moved a pair of silver candelabra and he pulled himself together and came to shift the marble statue of a lion from the middle of the narrow table set against the wall.

  ‘James said you come from America,’ he remarked, making it half a question.

  ‘Yes, Boston, although I have been over here for some time. The evidence boards are an idea I read about over there.’

  ‘And he said that you and Lord Radcliffe have solved several murders.’

  ‘One kidnapping, three murders, yes. With assistance from Garrick and James, of course.’

  ‘You do not find it distressing?’

  ‘Of course I do. But it is even more distressing to leave a murderer at large. Besides, I enjoy working with Luc.’

  I could see that he knew we were lovers but was struggling with how not to show he knew. I expected that James had also told him that I was aware that the two of them were together. My lack of reaction to that would have gone against everything he expected from a lady.