A Poisoned Season lem-2

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A Poisoned Season lem-2 Page 26

by Tasha Alexander


  Once the morning mail arrived, I was able to convince Inspector Manning that Baines's attack was not an isolated incident. Someone had sent a letter with a sinister message:

  Who will suffer next for your impudence? Abandon your investigation.

  After speaking to the inspector, I was left to consider my options and felt immediately out of my depth. I had not the slightest idea how to trick Lady Elinor into implicating herself. It would have been so easy to turn to Colin, if he weren't in Paris, or Sebastian, if he could be reached without going through the Times. Either of them was certain to have insights into the matter beyond mine.

  It was a frightening feeling, knowing that so much was at stake, that if I did not handle matters in the best possible way, more people could be hurt than those already affected by Lady Elinor's crimes. I could not allow another member of my staff to be brutalized as Baines had been. If I could resolve all this on my own, it would be a significant accomplishment, and the thought of achieving such a thing filled me with a surge of inspiration that led to a new idea. It was so obvious now that I laughed at myself for not having come to it earlier. Not wanting to waste another instant, I sent for Margaret at once.

  "It's inspired!" she cried. "Does it have to happen tonight, though? Jeremy and I've arranged everything for our public falling-out to take place at the lord mayor's ball tonight. I don't see how we can possibly reschedule."

  "You don't need to come with me, Margaret. The fewer people on hand the better, and you know that I must have Inspector Manning. What I need you to do is write the letter. Lady Elinor would recognize my handwriting."

  "Very well," Margaret said. "But I don't like missing the adventure. You must promise me that the next time you unmask a murderer, you do it at a time when I can help in a more exciting way."

  "I'll do my best," I said. "Now, here's what I want you to write." We spent the next half hour crafting our letter. In the end, I was most satisfied with it.

  Dear Lady Elinor,

  It has come to my attention that your daughter's future happiness depends not only upon the marriage you have arranged for her, but on the success of her fiancé's claim to the French throne. My own dear son, only six years old, is the child of David Francis. I've no doubt that you grasp the implications of this statement. I assure you that I've no interest in seeing him named king; politics is a risky business, and when I consider what happened to his ancestors, I cannot hope that he would ever sit on a throne. But if I am to hold him back, I cannot do so in good faith without asking for some sort of compensation on your part. I will gladly remain silent and hand you the keys to the kingdom, as it were, if you would be so kind as to make it worth my while. You might imagine that our circumstances are no longer quite so comfortable now his father is dead. If this is agreeable to you, I should like to see you this evening at my house. Call no earlier than nine o'clock, as the boy will be asleep by then and I can guarantee us a reasonable amount of privacy. We will be leaving for Paris in the morning, and I would very much like to have finished with this matter before then.

  I am yrs., etc.,

  Mrs. Elizabeth White

  "I don't see how she could refrain from coming," Margaret said. "I must go if I'm to be ready for my grand performance. Oh, Emily, I do envy you all this excitement!"

  "I don't know if 'excitement' is the proper word."

  "If I didn't have absolute confidence in you, it wouldn't be. But I'm not worried that you'll come to harm. You're perfectly capable of outwitting Lady Elinor. She doesn't stand a chance."

  As I walked her to the door, I saw that Inspector Manning was outside, speaking to the officers stationed in Berkeley Square. It was the perfect opportunity to consult with him and request his assistance. He was concerned that my plan was too dangerous, but I insisted that Lady Elinor was more likely to talk to me than to him. Furthermore, so long as he and his men were near, I would be perfectly safe. He promised to meet me at the Whites' at eight-thirty.

  I spent the remainder of the afternoon buried in Homer. I'd woefully neglected my Greek in the past weeks and feared that if I did not keep up, Mr. Moore might make me return to reading Xenophon, the tedious texts he'd forced upon me in the early days of my study. I was captivated by the trials of Odysseus, suffering the wrath of Poseidon, longing for home and Penelope, although I was not entirely sympathetic to the man. There were bits of his adventures that I think he enjoyed rather too much, and I wondered if he really was the equal of his wife. She was a woman to be much admired. Clever, faithful, inventive.

  The hours passed quickly, and I was surprised to see that it was nearly seven o'clock. I would have to hurry to prepare myself to meet Inspector Manning, and was halfway up the stairs to change my dress when Davis handed me a note from Lady Elinor:

  My dear Emily,

  Ivy Brandon called on me late this afternoon and fell ill after taking tea with me. I've tried to reach her husband and her mother but can locate neither of them. Isabelle and I are to dine with the Prince and Princess of Wales this evening, and I hate to leave Ivy alone with only servants. Would you be so good as to come sit with her until Robert can be summoned?

  I am yrs., etc.

  E.R.

  A horrible, sickening feeling crashed into my stomach. Surely Lady Elinor would not be so foolish as to harm Ivy, not in her own house? Her guilt would be immediately apparent. I felt compelled to investigate but did not have time to go to Meadowdown before I needed to be at the Whites'. Perhaps this was nothing more than a ruse to distract me from my purpose. If I hurried, I would have just enough time to go by Belgrave Square and leave an urgent message for Robert.

  I was shocked to see my friend's husband, looking utterly disheveled, open the door himself. "Is she with you?" he asked, looking around me.

  "Ivy? No, I've just received — "

  "We're having Lord Fortescue and the prime minister to dine tonight. They'll be at the house by eight. She would have needed to start dressing by now, but she's never returned from making calls this afternoon."

  "Read this," I said, thrusting the letter at him.

  "She's ill? What can Lady Elinor mean, she couldn't locate me? I've been home all afternoon."

  "She never tried," I said, and told him as quickly as possible all that I knew of Lady Elinor's crimes.

  "I'll go to Meadowdown at once."

  "It's unlikely that she would have done anything to hurt Ivy, but be careful, Robert."

  "I'll pretend that nothing's amiss. You found me, and I've come to collect my wife."

  "I pray that you find Ivy well. It's unlikely that you'll find Lady Elinor home."

  "So help me, I will tear that woman limb from limb if she has so much as looked at my wife in a menacing way."

  Robert transformed from an average-looking man into a paragon of the most handsome sort of divine wrath. I hoped that when he found her, Ivy would be in a condition to appreciate the change. I wished him luck and set off on my own errand, my heart heavy with worry for my friend. It took considerable effort to force my attention to my role in this intrigue, but I looked at my watch and knew that I could not afford the luxury of spending even another moment lamenting what might have happened to Ivy.

  After sending my letter to Lady Elinor, I had asked Inspector Manning to visit Mrs. White's housekeeper. Knowing that the woman was not a particular admirer of mine, I thought the scheme I was proposing would go over better with her if it came from a policeman. When I arrived at the house, she greeted me with her usual scowl, but this time there was a hint of concern in her eyes.

  "They're perfectly safe," I said to her. "They boarded the train this morning and are well on their way to Greece by now."

  "I hope you're right," she said. "I don't much like you. You're the sort who brings trouble into a house."

  I could hardly argue with her. On this point she was right. I'd certainly brought Ivy trouble, and Isabelle, not to mention David Francis. He had suffered the worst of all of them. It was hardly an e
ncouraging line of thought on which to embark before trying to capture a murderer, but I found myself quite unable to stop thinking about the misery I had brought to those around me.

  The housekeeper gave me the reply Lady Elinor had sent to my letter. It stated quite plainly that she had no idea what Mrs. White was talking about and that there clearly had been some sort of confusion. She apologized and said that she was unable to meet that evening, but that if Mrs. White still wanted to speak with her, she was welcome to call at Meadowdown anytime following her return from Paris.

  "I didn't expect she would agree to the meeting," I said to Inspector Manning as we went over the details of our plan. "But I hope that this has instilled in her a sense of urgency, that she will decide the boy must be silenced immediately. I do believe she is scared."

  As the hour grew late, we set our trap in Edward's room, and I was filled with anxiety. I took my position, hiding behind the armoire, wondering if I should have gone with Robert, chastising myself for not even considering it until now. She was my friend, and I'd left her to...to what? The darkness was claustrophobic and I began to feel chilled, unable to steady myself. Robert was perfectly capable of looking after his wife. It was right that he be the one to go to her.

  I wondered what time it was and hoped that Inspector Manning, who was watching the house from the outside, was still awake. My own eyelids had grown heavier than I would have thought possible. I wished I could have stretched my legs.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the floorboards creaked and the door to the nursery opened. The effect of the sound on me was more intense than that of smelling salts. I strained to listen, and heard someone walking with steps lighter than a child's, crossing the room to the small bed. I could see the intruder's form in silhouette against the moonlight that struggled through the curtains on the window. With a swift movement, she tipped a bottle against a piece of cloth she held in her hand, then pressed it over what she thought was the child's mouth. I had piled pillows under the blankets to make it look as if someone were sleeping, and her hand recoiled as she realized the boy was not there. She spun around as she heard me step out from where I'd hidden behind the armoire.

  "Emily?" She stepped away from the bed. "What is this?"

  "What are you doing?" I asked. There was an awful look in her eyes: scared, dazed, almost as if she were in a trance, but at the same time fiery with a deep anger.

  "I can't let him live, Emily. He'll ruin everything I've done for Isabelle. And now you will, too. Why didn't you stop? You've forced me to make everything worse."

  "I'm sure it's not so bad as you think."

  "You've no idea how very bad it is. You haven't seen your good friend Ivy, have you? I never guessed you would abandon her so easily."

  "What did you do to her?"

  She laughed. "Maybe you should go see."

  I knew she was trying to distract me. "Why did you kill David Francis?"

  "We both know why he had to die. It was you, after all, who led me to him."

  "The pink diamond was the key?" I asked.

  "As soon as I learned he had it, I knew I couldn't let him live. The dauphin swore to my family that he would never part with the diamond. I let Isabelle believe otherwise, of course. It wouldn't do for her to know the sordid details of these affairs. They would only upset her."

  "You didn't have to kill him."

  "I most certainly did. The letter in the snuffbox only confirmed that."

  "You stole the snuffbox? How?"

  "My dear child, you've no idea how easy it is to break into most houses."

  "Had Mr. Francis threatened to expose Mr. Berry?"

  "I don't know, but I could not risk his doing so. Do you not understand what I've sacrificed to get Isabelle where she is? I've spent my entire fortune to ensure that she will be queen of France."

  "But what if the coup fails?"

  "It won't. Garnier is unstoppable. And even if he weren't, Isabelle will always command a position of respect so long as she is married to the head of a royal family, even one without a throne."

  "Mr. Francis never told anyone his true identity. Why did you think he would suddenly reveal himself?"

  "People change when there is an actual crown at stake. And if Berry were cast aside, Isabelle would be left with nothing. She has no dowry and would be able to get no other husband. She would be left a spinster, doomed to a life of poverty and discomfort. No mother could stand by and watch her daughter come to such ruin."

  "You've been living quite comfortably. Surely it's not as bad as all that."

  "The creditors cannot be put off indefinitely." She stepped towards me. "Why did you have to interfere?"

  "I could not stand by and watch someone cause such injustice in the world."

  "Your ideals are amusing, Emily. You should have heeded my warnings. I tried to stop you."

  "You were following me."

  "Oh, that wasn't me. It was quite simple to get Mr. Berry to take care of that. All I had to do was plant the idea in his head that you were bent on proving him a fraud. As soon as I learned you weren't interested in him romantically and that you were investigating for Mrs. Francis, I knew I had to do something. I never thought it would come to this, but you're rather stubborn. You ought to have taken my advice and gone on a trip."

  "Is that why you made such a point of keeping me as a friend? To try to influence me to leave?"

  "Once I knew you weren't going to do as I suggested, I had to come up with a way to distract you from your purpose. Sinking you in scandal was an obvious solution."

  "You started the rumors about the Duke of Bainbridge and me," I said.

  "You couldn't have made it easier for me. Your eccentric habits cry out for the gossips' attention."

  "And you sent Lizzie to my house?"

  "You have figured it all out, haven't you? When I first hired her, it was to make sure you weren't involved with Mr. Berry. Later, as I figured out what you were really up to, she became more important to me. She's a stupid girl but did manage to get me some useful information. I hadn't expected your mother would come to your rescue."

  "A foolish error, Lady Elinor, considering the lengths to which you were willing to go to protect your own daughter."

  "It didn't matter. Berry was perfectly willing to step things up once your reputation had been saved. I only wish the fools he'd hired had been more efficient. You should never have made it across Berkeley Square the night the coach nearly hit you. It would have saved me the trouble of having to take care of you tonight."

  I took a step back. "How did you know that nicotine was such an effective poison?"

  "I use it on my roses. It helps keep everything beautiful. I only wish I had some with me now. But I think you'll prefer this. It's more pleasant." She lunged at me, forcing against my face the damp, sweet-smelling cloth she still clutched in her hand. I pushed back with all my weight, flinging her across the room.

  Inspector Manning stepped out of the shadows and picked Lady Elinor up from the floor.

  "I didn't hear you come in," I said.

  "I followed her inside. Waited right outside the door while you talked with her. Mr. Hargreaves was right. You are decent at this sort of thing. I've heard all I need. My men should be coming up any time now. I've already signaled for them."

  They arrived shortly and escorted their prisoner from the house. I kicked at the cloth Lady Elinor had dropped. "What's on this?" I asked.

  Inspector Manning reached for it and sniffed. "Chloroform."

  "Hardly would have had the same effect as nicotine," I said.

  "It would have if she'd been able to finish her plan. She left a large quantity of lamp oil in the hall outside the room. Looks like she planned to set the house on fire to cover up what she'd done."

  "I see," I said, willing my body to stop shaking.

  "You've done good work here, Lady Ashton. Mr. Hargreaves will be pleased."

  "I promised him I would take no unnecessary risks
."

  The policeman shrugged. "I'd say you kept that promise. I would never have gone along with your scheme if I wasn't certain that I could've protected you. Mr. Hargreaves would throttle me himself if I'd let anything happen to you."

  33

  The inspector brought me home, where Davis, tired but clearly pleased, met me at the door.

  "Madam!" he exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

  "Fine," I said. "Exhausted, but fine. Any word from Mr. Brandon?"

  "Not from him, but from Mrs. Brandon herself, madam." He handed me a note that contained only one sentence: All is well. A bit more detail would have been welcome, but this would suffice for the moment. I collapsed into my bed, where, despite my weariness, I found I could not sleep. Pleased though I was to have solved the crime, I took no joy in knowing that I was sending someone I'd known for most of my life to prison, and possibly to her death. I ached at the thought of Isabelle learning the truth about her mother and worried that her own life would now be ruined, too.

  Added to this angst was Colin's absence. His actions during the past months had surprised me at every turn. He had not tried to keep me from pursuing my investigations and had offered assistance without taking charge on his own. And now, in the aftermath of it all, I wanted nothing more than to sit with him, in quiet triumph, discussing what had transpired.

  I loved to flirt with him, to tease him, to discuss Greek with him. But I had not expected to find that, as a partner, he could offer more than that. He challenged me, stimulated my thinking, and offered both comfort and support when I succumbed to frustration. Was it possible that, as his wife, I might grow more than if I remained alone? The idea was an appealing one, and I could not recall him having done anything that suggested he would keep me from pursuing my interests and ideals. I wondered when he would propose again. If he would propose again. Surely he would? I let my mind wander, remembering the last time he'd kissed me, the feeling of his arms around me, and then, at last, I was able to fall asleep.

 

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