Death Comes to London

by Catherine Lloyd

  “Ah, you picked up on that, did you?”

  “That he was in love with Oliver?” She sighed. “Yes, it’s rather sad, isn’t it?”

  “Not according to the teachings of the church.”

  She studied his shadowed face. “You don’t seem to share Lieutenant Broughton’s horror at such a thing.”

  “I don’t. I’ve spent most of my life in the company of men, and I know what goes on between some of them. In my experience, as long as they were willing to fight to the death, where they chose to lay their pack at night made no difference to me. In fact, some of the men fought harder to ensure the safety of those they loved who were standing right beside them.”

  “What a highly unorthodox opinion, Major.”

  His smile flashed out, surprising her. “I don’t notice you being shocked either, Miss Harrington.”

  “Because it makes sense of everything, doesn’t it? Broughton killed for financial gain, and Dr. Redmond helped him out of fear and love.”

  “And we still can’t prove a single thing.”

  “I know. I wonder why the dowager showed signs of arsenic poisoning?”

  “Perhaps Broughton decided the digitalis wasn’t enough and made sure of her end with some arsenic he just happened to have with him in his pocket.”

  “And it appears that came as a surprise to Dr. Redmond, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “It also complicates matters even further. How did he manage to get concentrated digitalis and arsenic in her orgeat?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The major sounded rather short. It must be hard for him to face the fact that his friend was a murderer. Lucy looked out of the window and decided to change the subject. “Are you intending to return to Kurland St. Mary in the near future, Major?”

  “It depends on the Prince Regent. I’m awaiting my summons to the royal presence for the formal presentation of my baronetcy. If I don’t hear from the prince’s secretary this week, I’m going to write to him and explain that I’ll be going home for a few days and he can reach me there. I haven’t spent a single moment with my potential new land agent yet, and I wish to hear his plans for my estate.” He paused. “Why, is there something I can do for you in Kurland St. Mary?”

  “I have a letter for my father, Major. I thought if you were going back I would entrust it to your care.”

  “Of course, I’ll take it.” He paused. “Is there anything wrong at home?”

  “No, I write to him every week. He enjoys hearing about our adventures.”

  “I’m sure he does. Has London lived up to your expectations, Miss Harrington?”

  She regarded him warily. “In some ways I’ve enjoyed it very much, but as an unmarried lady, my sphere of influence is obviously very limited. My aunt has some charities that she favors, but she doesn’t do more than offer them money and make a yearly visit, whereas I would insist on being more involved in what was going on. There is such huge wealth in this city and yet so many people are starving.”

  “As in any city. Even you would struggle to find a way to feed them all.”

  “If someone would offer me the chance, I’d dearly love to try.” She shook her head. “You will think me foolish.”

  He nodded. “Idealistic maybe, but scarcely foolish, Miss Harrington. Unfortunately, you’d need to marry a prince of the realm, a nabob, or a real Indian prince to have such a fortune at your disposal. Has Miss Anna met a man worthy of her yet?”

  “I’m not sure. I do know that she has received two proposals of marriage.”

  “Hopefully not one from Lieutenant Broughton.”

  She shuddered. “No, she told me that she’d fallen out of love with him when he showed us his gruesome experiments in his laboratory.”

  “Thank goodness for that.” He half-smiled. “At one point I imagined she would marry him, and you would be off with Stanford, but of course that isn’t likely to happen now, is it?”

  “Why not?”

  He blinked at her. “You still believe Stanford might make you an offer?”

  “You find the notion that someone might wish to marry me so preposterous? Not everyone sees me as some sort of convenience, Major.”

  “That’s not what I meant at all, it’s simply that—”

  She turned her head away before he could see that he had upset her and gazed unseeingly out into the street. She had almost confided to him that she planned to tell her father she was coming home early and that she was leaving Anna in excellent hands with the Clavelly family. But if she said that to him now, he’d probably either remind her that he’d told her so, or even worse, laugh.

  “Miss Harrington . . .”

  She bit down on her lip and refused to respond to him. As the carriage drew to a stop, he leaned across her to open the door. She didn’t wait for his help to step down, but managed by herself. She reached the top step and reached for the doorknocker.

  “Miss Harrington.”

  Schooling her features into a bland mask, she slowly looked down into his all-too-familiar face.

  “Yes, Major?”

  He studied her for such a long moment that she forgot to breathe.

  “I offended you.” His dark blue gaze searched hers. “Worse, I upset you.”

  “It’s of no matter.”

  “I didn’t mean to suggest that you weren’t having a successful Season.”

  “Oh yes, I’m positively surrounded by potential suitors. As you mentioned before I embarked on this pointless exercise, I am obviously not what any gentleman wishes for in a wife.” She banged the knocker hard. He carried on speaking behind her.

  “If there was any justice in this world, they would be fighting over you, Miss Harrington,” he said gently. “They are obviously all fools.”

  Lucy briefly closed her eyes and started to turn back to Major Kurland. The door swung open and the Clavelly butler cleared his throat.

  “Good evening, Miss Harrington, Major Kurland.”

  Major Kurland saluted from the flagstone path. “Good evening, I’ve brought Miss Harrington and her maid to see her sister.”

  It took another gentle prompt from the polite butler before she remembered to step into the warmth of the hall so that he could shut the door. She walked up to the drawing room in a daze only to find that Anna was still dressing. After avoiding yet another quizzing from her aunt about Major Kurland, she escaped up the stairs.

  She could hear someone coughing as she approached the bedroom door and opened it to find Anna and her maid in deep conversation.

  “Oh, Lucy, I was just telling Edith how good that cough medicine the Broughtons gave me was.” She held the bottle up to the light. “There is a little bit left in there that you can take, Edith.”

  Lucy stared at the dark brown glass of the bottle as an outrageous idea flowered in her head. “By all means let Edith finish the bottle, but make sure you keep it so that we can return it to Lieutenant Broughton.”

  “Thank you, Miss.” Edith allowed Anna to give her two spoonfuls of the rose-hip syrup. “Ooh, miss, I can feel it warming the back of my throat already.”

  Chapter 18

  “That’s a ridiculous suggestion,” Major Kurland said.

  Lucy refused to lower her gaze. “Why? If we can’t find a way to implicate Lieutenant Broughton in any of these murders, why can’t we trick him into revealing himself?”

  “Because it’s highly unethical.”

  “And when have such niceties ever bothered Lieutenant Broughton?”

  Major Kurland maintained his stance in front of the fire in the center of the hearthrug, a position that reminded Lucy strongly of her father. Before the rest of the Hathaway household had awoken, she’d taken a maid and gone to see him at Fenton’s. She and her maid had been ushered into the same parlor as on her last visit and had time to kick her heels while the major was presumably woken up, shaved, and dressed by his butler.

  “But what if he doesn’t take the bait?”

  “Then we’ve lost nothin
g, have we?”

  He frowned down at her. “I’d have to ask Dr. Redmond to help. I cannot guarantee that he’ll cooperate.”

  “He doesn’t need to know what is afoot. In fact, it would be better if he didn’t and was thus able to play his part more convincingly.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  “I wonder what he thought about Oliver’s remains? Orfila says that it is possible to detect and identify some types of poison in the human body.”

  “I don’t imagine Dr. Redmond has the stomach to dissect Oliver, do you?”

  “Then perhaps someone else should.”

  “What do you hope to achieve by such an act?”

  “We know that Oliver and Broughton fell ill at about the same time as the dowager.”

  “Agreed.”

  “The dowager died, Broughton was ill, but recovered, and Oliver got worse and then killed himself while his mind was disturbed.”

  “Yes.”

  “We are assuming that all three of them received different doses of the same things.”

  “It is the simplest way to proceed.”

  “But from what Dr. Redmond told you, the dowager was given an increased dose of digitalis. Neither Broughton nor Oliver showed symptoms of heart failure, did they? They were both beset with digestive problems, which suggests they ingested something different—if Broughton was truly ill.”

  Major Kurland finally abandoned his commanding perch on the rug and sat down. “He certainly looked ill when I saw him. I doubt he would’ve been able to fake that.”

  “And you saw Oliver, too, didn’t you? Did he complain of heart problems?”

  “Not really. He looked rather like Broughton did on that first night, but he soon got worse and other symptoms appeared.”

  “So either Dr. Redmond intends to do away with the whole Broughton family, which we now know is patently ridiculous, or Broughton decided to play his own hand. I sincerely doubt that they worked together.”

  “And I sincerely doubt that Dr. Redmond would attempt to do away with Oliver.”

  “Then it has to be Broughton, and this might be the only way we can make him confess.”

  He looked up at her. “I wonder if Dr. Redmond has actually seen Oliver’s body?”

  “As you said, he probably wouldn’t want to.”

  “But if it proved that Broughton had been poisoning his brother, he might be more willing to help us expose his killer.” He frowned. “Now how can we find out where Oliver’s remains are being held?”

  “Oh, I already know that. Lady Broughton said that both the bodies were being held in the crypt of a church the Broughton family help fund in the city. I believe it is one of the guild churches, St. Mary in the Wall.”

  “I know it.” Major Kurland nodded decisively. “It’s set into the side of the old Roman wall that enclosed the city of London. I’ll persuade Dr. Redmond to visit the church crypt with me while you ascertain if Broughton and his mother will allow us to visit him at home to pay our respects.”

  “Then you’ve decided to go along with my plan?”

  He was already at the door, but he looked over his shoulder at her. “It might be fantastical, Miss Harrington, but at this point it is the only option we have.”

  Lucy felt rather like a general marshaling her troops for battle as she surveyed all the people who had insisted on being present to witness Broughton’s downfall. He was a very intelligent man and he might still come about. Anna had written a note to Broughton asking if they might visit, and he had replied with alacrity. Sophia had insisted that she had to accompany Anna and Lucy to chaperone them. Major Kurland had sent her a note to tell her that he was bringing Dr. Redmond along.

  She could only hope that the countess wouldn’t object to such a large party descending upon her home, or that Lieutenant Broughton wouldn’t become wary. According to Major Kurland, he seemed to believe he was above suspicion, which worried her. Would her amateur efforts to trap him fail? And if they did, how would he react?

  “Lucy? Are you coming in?”

  Anna’s voice recalled her to her surroundings, and she followed her sister and Sophia up the stairs and into the now-familiar drawing room of Broughton House. The countess looked even frailer than when Lucy had last seen her. Fresh indignation hardened her resolve against the countess’s eldest son.

  After saying all that was necessary, the countess rang the bell and asked the butler to find the lieutenant. When he returned to say that Broughton was entertaining guests in his laboratory and had asked not to be disturbed, Lucy immediately rose to her feet.

  “We are quite willing to go down and see what fascinating experiments he is engaged in, aren’t we, Anna?” She patted the countess’s pale hand. “You don’t need to accompany us, my lady, we know the way.”

  Lucy led the way down the stairs and out into the garden. The stillroom was dark, but a faint light shone through the window of Broughton’s laboratory. Gathering her resolve, Lucy fixed on a smile and went in. Lieutenant Broughton, Major Kurland, and Mr. Stanford were gathered around one of the worktables with their backs to the door. There was no sign of Dr. Redmond.

  Major Kurland was the first to look up as Sophia firmly shut the outside door. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Giffin, Miss Harrington, Miss Anna.”

  Lieutenant Broughton swung around, too. “Good Lord, I became so engrossed in my conversation that I forgot that you were all coming to see my mother. Please forgive me.” He placed a bloodied knife on the table. “Excuse me while I wash my hands.”

  He moved away, revealing what looked like the remains of a frog pinned out on a wooden board. Lucy swallowed convulsively and Sophia resorted to pressing her handkerchief to her nose.

  After a swift glance at the ladies, Mr. Stanford picked up the board. “Shall I bring this over to you as well, Broughton? I don’t think our companions will enjoy viewing this as much as Major Kurland and I did.”

  “Of course! How remiss of me.” Broughton chuckled as he washed his hands. “I forget how delicate the female of the species can be.”

  “And the male,” Major Kurland murmured as he moved away to look out of the window. To Lucy’s surprise, his complexion held a hint of green. “I’ve seen far too much of the insides of living beings in my life already to want to see any more.”

  Anna stepped forward with a determined smile and wandered back toward the cages at the end of the room, coughing as she walked.

  “Do you still have the white rat, Lieutenant Broughton?”

  “No, Miss Anna.”

  “Did you set him free?”

  Broughton smiled indulgently at her. “I don’t think my mother would have appreciated me setting a rat free in her house, do you? The rat helped me prove a very significant point in my latest theory.”

  “Oh.” Anna coughed again and covered her mouth with her gloved hand. “The poor little thing.”

  The door opened and Dr. Redmond appeared, his medical bag in one hand and a leather-bound journal in the other.

  “Lieutenant Broughton, your mother said I would find you all out here. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted you to have the latest edition of the Fletchers Scientific Journal. They published that article you wrote.”

  “They published it?” An incredulous smile broke out on Broughton’s face. “That’s the first time anything I’ve written has been accepted.”

  Anna coughed again. “Congratulations, sir.”

  “Thank you. It might seem a small matter to you all, but it will help me convince my father that there is a future career available for me that does not involve the military.”

  Lucy rushed over to Anna. “That is indeed good news, Lieutenant, but might I trouble you for a glass of water for my sister? She seems unable to get rid of this worrying cough.”

  “Of course, Miss Harrington.” Broughton hurried to do Lucy’s bidding while Anna continued to cough. When he returned, he studied Anna intently.

  “Did the medicine I gave you ease the cou
gh at all?”

  “Indeed, it did,” Anna replied. “In truth, we were hoping you might give us another bottle as ours is all gone.”

  “Of course, Miss Anna. I’ll fetch one from the stillroom for you myself.”

  “That would be very kind of you, Lieutenant.” Lucy smiled at him. “A dose of that excellent rose-hip medicine would be most appreciated.”

  “Then I’ll go and get you a bottle right now.”

  “There’s no need.” Dr. Redmond joined the conversation. “I happen to have a bottle of that here in my bag. I meant to return it to you last time I was here.”

  He produced a brown bottle from his bag and shook it before pouring a dose into a silver measuring cup and holding it out to Anna. As she slowly brought it to her lips, Dr. Redmond continued talking.

  “I found this bottle beside Oliver’s bedside. I’m fairly certain it came from the same batch Hester Macleod made.”

  “No!” The lieutenant moved so quickly that Lucy gasped as he dashed the cup out of Anna’s hand. The dark red liquid splashed over her blue muslin skirt, staining the fabric like blood. “Don’t drink that!”

  Major Kurland stepped in front of Anna. “Whatever has come over you? Why shouldn’t she drink it, Broughton?”

  “Because . . .”

  Robert picked up the bottle and examined it. “Please continue, Broughton. We’re all very interested in hearing what you have to say.”

  “It might have spoiled. It’s better to give Miss Anna a new bottle.”

  “Spoiled?” Robert brought the open bottle to his nose and slowly inhaled. “It smells perfectly fine to me.” He paused, holding Broughton’s gaze. “If you don’t want Miss Anna to endanger herself tasting it, how about me?”

  “I’d rather take that risk myself.” Broughton held out his hand. “Give it to me. My grandmother’s potions are not always safe.”

  “Your grandmother didn’t make this one.” Robert checked the label. “You and Hester Macleod did; however, I agree that it’s probably not fit to drink.”