‘Did he pay her off?’ Luc asked.
‘Inadequately, according to her. There were a number of letters sent.’
‘Is she French?’ The name certainly was, but surely the country was at war with France?
‘Emigrée, so she said. But she might just have been a good actress from Bermondsey. All I know is that she is given to high drama.’ Adrien shuddered. ‘Frankly, I cannot imagine Madame Vaillant managing to arrive unnoticed and then carry out a murder without a great deal of screaming, flouncing and carrying-on.’
‘Why did you assume it was her?’ I asked Jerald.
‘I saw her last night. She was coming out of Little St James and she recognised me. I was treated to an earful of opinions on men in general and my cousin in particular.’
‘She has lodgings there,’ Adrien said. ‘Did she actually utter threats?’
‘Indeed she did! A vivid description of what she wished she had done with the fruit knife to various parts of Cousin Henry’s anatomy. Oh yes, and you are a smug little lackey, by the way, Coz. I made my escape rapidly, as you may imagine.’
The body had not been mutilated. Would a violently angry woman armed with a knife manage to stab a man so exactly and then not give in to the temptation to slash and cut? But a clever one might let her temper cool to ice and then take the opportunity to reinforce the impression that she was out of control when she met one of her victim’s relatives…
I came out of my thoughts to find Jerald bidding me farewell. ‘Wait! Before you go – why was this news to you? I thought your family is in Town for that reception.’
‘I’m not staying with them,’ he said abruptly and turned to the door.
‘We must go too,’ Luc said as the young man left. ‘We will see you at dinner, Adrien.’
‘Yes, of course,’ he said vaguely. ‘Grainger will see you out. I must go and discover what my Uncle Horace’s plans are.’
‘The rejected mistress: another name for the suspects list,’ I remarked as we reached Luc’s front door. ‘She does sound almost too suspicious to be true.’
‘I believe we should discuss it in depth in my bedchamber,’ he said.
‘Not my bedchamber?’ I queried, trotting up the steps.
‘Mine has the larger bed.’ He had the key in his hand and was in and striding towards the staircase before the footman could get to the door. I slowed to a decorous stroll, trying not to look as though I was in a mad rush to get my lover into a room with a bed in it and a lock on the door and rip all his clothes off.
We were both laughing when I turned the key and I didn’t have to do any ripping because Luc was already throwing garments off as if they were on fire. ‘It is over two hundred years since I last made love to you,’ he said, kicking his breeches across the room and advancing on me in a highly satisfactory state of rampant anticipation.
‘Get me out of this garment,’ I gasped, struggling with tapes, hooks and a pin which, naturally, found the end of my thumb. ‘Ouch!’
Never say that the Earl of Radcliffe is slow in a crisis. He picked me up bodily, dropped me on the bed, threw up my skirts and pounced. ‘The problem with women’s clothes in your time,’ he said, somewhat muffled by fabric, ‘Is the underwear.’ A pair of very modern undies flew through the air. ‘It is much more satisfactory in my time.’
I had to agree. There are times when rapid access is highly desirable…
Chapter Five
We arrived downstairs for dinner appearing, I hoped, cool, calm, collected and elegant. James took one look at us and sniggered.
I went over to him where he stood with one foot on the fender, surveying the drawing room. ‘And right back at you,’ I murmured. ‘I assume you and Kit are staying in Albany? Even the five-minute walk hasn’t taken the colour out of your cheeks.’
He had taken over Luc’s set of rooms at the exclusive gentlemen’s residence off Piccadilly, although he and Kit spent most of their time in Leicestershire. I did actually succeed in making him blush but, before I could embark on any more teasing, Garrick and Carola came in, closely followed by Lady Radcliffe. A moment later and Adrien was announced.
We had a civilised half hour before dinner, talking of anything but the murder in the neighbourhood, then went through to the Small Dining Room (that’s the one about the same size as my flat) where the circular table had been set up.
‘Thank you, Wilkins,’ Lady Radcliffe said when the soup had been served. ‘We will ring.’ When the footmen had filed out after the butler, she looked around the table. ‘This is a very bad business. What happens now?’
‘I found my Uncle Horace and my cousins at home. They are very much shocked, of course and are making plans to pack up and return to Buckinghamshire in the morning. The doctor has removed… That is, my cousin’s body is with the doctor. I imagine we will hear tomorrow if there is anything he can tell us in advance of the inquest,’ Adrien said. ‘My father should return in time for that, with my cousin Frederick’s instructions for the funeral and some indication of how I am to proceed with the administration of business.’
‘We saw Adrien’s younger cousin, Jerald Prescott,’ Luc told the others. ‘He mentioned another suspect.’ We recounted Jerald’s tale about the fiery Madame Vaillant and my thoughts on her likelihood as the perpetrator of such a silent, efficient killing. No one disagreed with my suspicions that her apparent uncontrolled fury might conceal a colder, more thoughtful plan for revenge, although Adrien, who, of course, knew the lady, looked doubtful.
‘Do many members of your family live in London?’ I asked Adrien, thinking to steer the conversation away from the actual murder for a while.