A Poisoned Season (7 page)

“Rumor has it that their relationship is intended only to hide that which he has with you.”

“That is ridiculous,” I said.

“I know it is. But several people have noticed that Colin has not been seen with you often lately, something that seems to add veracity to the story.”

“Colin is immersed in his work. Furthermore—”

“Yes, but Emily, you are gaining a reputation as an eccentric who would prefer to spend her time buried in the library instead of on more…er…feminine pursuits.”

“Excellent. I long to be eccentric.”

“You know that I fully support your studies, but I do wish you would, perhaps, temper your approach to the Season. Would it be so awful to play the society game, just for a few months?”

“I never thought I would hear such criticism from you,” I said. Ivy looked as if she would crumple. “Don’t be upset, dear. I’m not angry.” I was unable to continue, as Davis opened the door and announced Jeremy.

“I’m to meet Margaret here,” he said, dropping into a chair after greeting the two of us with perfect politeness. “It’s exhausting arranging these clandestine meetings for public consumption.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” I said. “I saw the two of you riding yesterday.”

“Capital girl, Margaret. Loads of fun.” He rested his chin on the
gold handle of his walking stick. “I can think of plenty worse ways to spend a Season.”

Ivy frowned but did not comment. The door opened and Davis reappeared, this time bringing Colin with him.

“What did you think of that dinner last night, Hargreaves?” Jeremy asked as I handed Colin a cup of tea. “I can’t remember when I’ve had such awful soup.”

Colin laughed. “Lady Cranley would be horrified to hear you say that.”

“Fear not. I told her that I’d never had its equal, and she took it as a compliment.”

“You men are dreadful,” Ivy said. “I hate to abandon you to them, Emily, but I must go see to the invitations for my ball.”

“When do you expect Margaret?” I asked Jeremy when Ivy had left.

“I thought she’d be here by now,” he replied, refusing another cup of tea.

“It’s not like her to be late,” I said. “I wish I had known she was meeting you here. I would have asked her to come early so that she could help me with my Greek.”

“Ah, Emily and her Greek,” Jeremy said, smiling. “I’m glad someone can be entertained by such pursuits.”

“I adore it and will not tolerate your teasing me about it.”

“I’m not teasing,” he protested. “You know that I have been one of your greatest admirers ever since you proved you could run faster than me.”

“It was a necessary skill, or I wouldn’t have been able to escape you when you chased me with—what was it—frogs?”

“Mmmm, yes, frogs. Not one of my finer moments.”

“I suppose I can forgive you your youthful exuberance.”

“You are as generous now as you were when you were five,” Jeremy said.

“What is troubling you with your Greek, Emily?” Colin asked, giving Jeremy a brief but pointed look. “Perhaps I can be of some use.”

“Beware, Em. A Cambridge man is rarely of any use,” Jeremy said.

“Mr. Moore has left me with a difficult passage, and I don’t quite understand the grammar,” I said.

“Why don’t you show me?” Colin asked. I walked to my desk and pulled out a pile of papers and books.

“Oh, dear,” Jeremy said. “Not the lexicon. That’s my cue to leave.”

“But what about Margaret?” I asked.

“She can’t expect me to wait all afternoon,” he said. “Tell her that she has wounded my heart and that I am unlikely to recover.”

“I’ll pass along the message,” I said with a laugh, giving him my hand to kiss before he departed.

“Margaret was never going to come,” Colin said when we were alone. “He’s using her as an excuse to see you.”

“What gives you that idea? Have you been listening to idle gossip?”

“Gossip? It takes nothing beyond ordinary powers of observation to notice that Bainbridge is captivated by you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s more expert at avoiding romantic entanglements than even I am.”

“You’re not back to avoiding romantic entanglements, are you?” he asked.

“Not when they involve you.” How easy it was to lose myself in his eyes.

“Show me your Greek,” he said. We bent over the text, and Colin carefully explained the grammar to me. His arm brushed against mine, and my heart quickened. He squeezed my hand and returned to the book before us.
“The Greek Anthology
is marvelous. One can find a
passage appropriate for nearly any situation in it. This is one of my favorites.” He flipped through the pages and then read aloud, first in English, then in Greek. “‘I know that I am mortal and ephemeral; but when I scan the multitudinous circling spirals of the stars, no longer do I touch earth with my feet, but sit with Zeus himself, and take my fill of the ambrosial food of gods.’” The rhythmic sound of the ancient language always moved me, and I watched him closely as he spoke. When he finished he gently touched my face. “I think, Emily, that you are my ambrosia,” he said, almost in a whisper. I dropped my pencil.

“I could grow rather fond of this method of study. Perhaps we should make a habit of it,” I said.

“What would Mr. Moore say?”

“If you would tutor me yourself, I’d have no need for Mr. Moore.”

“There is much I long to teach you,” he murmured against my neck. “But I fear we are far too easily distracted for you to learn much Greek with me as your guide.”

“Such is my misfortune,” I said, turning my head towards him. Before I could bring my lips to his, he pulled away, straightened his jacket, and brushed his hair back from his forehead.

“You’ll notice that Margaret has never arrived,” he said, tugging at a curl that had escaped from my pompadour. “Watch out for Bainbridge.”

I
stayed home that night, happy for a quiet evening with Homer. Cécile was at a ball, and knowing that she would be out extremely late, I took my book to bed and soon fell asleep reading. Once again, something disturbed me while I slept, and I awoke around four in the morning, stunned by what I saw. My copy of the
Odyssey
still lay on my bed, but in it had been placed a single long-stemmed pink rose.
Resting on top of the book was a small package and a note. I felt a strong breeze and watched the curtains, which I’d replaced since the burglary, billow. The window had been locked when I went to bed; now it was open.

All at once the darkness of my room was terrifying. Was I alone? Or was the intruder hiding, watching me? Summoning all the courage I could, I lit the lamp beside my bed. The light revealed nothing immediately, and I was too afraid to do a thorough search. I tapped on Cécile’s door, but she did not answer. She had not yet returned home. I started to reach for the bell but did not want to wait alone for my maid. Rushing upstairs to the servants’ quarters, I pounded on Davis’s door.

“Get Mr. Hargreaves at once,” I commanded. My butler did not hesitate, closed the door so he could dress, and was ready to leave the house in fewer than three minutes. My appearance in the servants’ hall had caused quite a commotion. Lizzie poked her head out her door and shrieked when she saw me; soon the entire household was awake. I followed Davis downstairs where I sat on the staircase, clutching my knees to my chest, my back pressed hard against the railing as I accepted, but did not drink, the glass of brandy my maid had handed me. Meg was at least as upset as I was, and I considered offering her some brandy of her own.

Sooner than I could have hoped, Colin burst through the door, Davis right behind him. “What has happened? Where is Cécile?” The moment I’d explained the situation to him, he raced up the stairs, two at a time. Davis organized the footmen, who began to methodically search the house. I knew they would find nothing; the intruder was sure to be long gone. I returned to my bedroom, where I found Colin staring at the note, the rose flung carelessly on the bed.

“Have you read it?” he asked.

“No.” I glanced at the text as he read:

“
Would I were a pink rose, that fastening me with thine hands thou mightest grant me grace of thy snowy breast.
Bloody hell.” He looked at me. “Forgive me.”

I smiled weakly. “What’s in the package?” He opened it carefully, revealing a small box and another note.

“‘A pink for you and a pink for another. Please return this to the rightful owner.’” Inside the box was a pink gemstone.

“It must be Mr. Francis’s Marie Antoinette diamond,” I said.

“I think you’re right.”

“So my admirer is the cat burglar.”

“He cut a circle of glass from your window and unlocked it. Have you sent for the police?”

“No. I only wanted you.”

He took me in his arms. “You’re trembling.”

“This isn’t like when he broke in before, Colin. He came for me this time,” I said, making no effort to stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. “He could have returned the diamond to Mrs. Francis himself. I cannot believe there is no connection between this stone and the murder. And if there is a connection, it is I who am culpable—” I stopped at the sound of a forced cough from my butler as he entered the room. Colin stepped away from me.

“It doesn’t appear that anything in the house has been disturbed,” Davis said.

“I’m not surprised,” Colin said.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, madam? Shall I summon the police?”

“Must we?” I asked Colin.

“You will have to talk to them in the morning, but there’s nothing they can do now that I can’t take care of myself.”

“I’m quite all right, Davis. Thank you for your assistance.” The butler left, leaving the door partly open behind him. Colin opened it the rest of the way.

“I don’t want to compromise your reputation.” He looked at the letter again. “Have you received any other similar notes?”

“Just the one you saw me open some weeks ago.” I was suddenly aware that I was wearing nothing but my nightgown and a flimsy lace robe, and that Colin, who had dressed in a great hurry, had only partly buttoned the wrinkled shirt that he had neglected to tuck into his trousers. “I am most grateful that you came so quickly,” I said quietly, tears filling my eyes. “I want to believe that I could face any situation head-on, with no assistance, but find myself more vulnerable than I expected.”

“No one should have to face every situation alone, Emily.”

“Having you here is an enormous comfort.”

“I am loath to leave you at all tonight,” he said. “But you know I cannot stay.” He picked me up and carried me across the room, placing me gently on the bed. “Try to sleep.” Tracing my lips with a finger, he smiled. “I suppose this is inappropriate, but I can’t resist pointing out that, were we married, you would not have to spend this night alone.”

And then he was gone, but he did not return to his house on Park Lane. Davis informed me the next morning that, after conducting a thorough search of the house and grounds, Colin had stayed in the garden, pacing beneath my window, for the remainder of the night.

6

I
NSPECTOR
M
ANNING ARRIVED AT MY HOUSE EARLY THE NEXT MORNING
, just as Cécile and I were sitting down at the breakfast table. The cheerful room, filled with sunshine and freshly cut flowers, belied the sullen mood of its occupants. The inspector questioned me about the events of the previous evening but admitted to having no leads as to the identity of the intruder. There seemed little hope that he would ever be caught.

“Please eat something, Inspector,” I said. “I really must insist. There’s no point letting all this food go to waste, and I’ve no appetite this morning.”

“Thank you, Lady Ashton.” He hesitated for a moment, but the temptation of the dishes on the sideboard was too great. He picked up a plate and began to fill it.

“So this intruder left no clues?” Cécile asked.

“Not that we can find. He’s a skilled thief.” He dove into his eggs and smiled gratefully when the maid gave him a steaming cup of coffee. “I would like to assure you that we’ll be able to keep news of this from reaching the papers, but I’m afraid that would be a false promise.”

I sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Have you any objection to my returning the diamond to Mrs. Francis?”

“Not in the least. So far, the local constabulary has handled the case in Richmond, but I am hoping that now we may be able to transfer it to Scotland Yard.”

“Do you think there’s a connection between the thefts and the murders?”

“Not necessarily,” the detective said. “But don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. Mr. Hargreaves has asked that I once again increase the patrols near your house, something I will do gladly. I’ve also arranged to have an undercover policeman stationed in Berkeley Square overnight.”

“Thank you. I will rest easier knowing that.”

“Do you think she is in danger?” Cécile asked.

“If the intruder had wanted to harm her, he had ample opportunity to do so last night. It seems that his interest in Lady Ashton is of a…er…romantic nature. Still, I wouldn’t like to see you have another run-in with him. Difficult to guess what the criminal mind might try next.”