Chapter Nine
N iall had surged ahead of Kara as he sprinted up the stairs of the house she indicated. He didn’t slow, nor would she wish him to. On the second-floor landing, he nearly collided with a young man. He gripped the youngling’s arm. “How do I get to the roof?”
“Let go , sir!” the young man demanded. “What do you think you are about?”
Niall had no time to deal with a stripling likely here to meet up with his kept woman. “It’s urgent.” He grabbed the lordling’s other arm. “Tell me how to access the roof!”
“On the fourth floor, head right, then take the last passage.” A woman with her shift drooping off her shoulder leaned out of a nearby doorway. “There’s a door at the end. The stairs beyond it lead up to the roof.”
“Thank you!” Niall released the young man and started up the stairs again.
“Come and see me when you are done with your business up there!” she called after him.
“Millie!” Even as he ran on, Niall could hear the youngling’s shock—and hurt. He kept going, found the passage and the door, and hurtled out onto the roof—only to find it empty.
Breathing hard, he circled, checking behind chimneys and peering down over the sides of the building. On the furthest side, he leaned over, straining to see in the dark. Was that a door, standing open into the alley? From the end of the lane he caught a wisp of motion.
Cursing, he turned to run back, and found Kara coming out onto the roof.
“She’s not here any longer,” he said. “We’ve got to get back down.”
Without comment, she turned and followed. Niall flew down the stairs, passing the still-quarreling couple at full speed and hitting the ground floor at a run. He searched around the back of the house until he found a room that appeared to be used for the collection of rubbish—at the back of it was the open door he’d spotted.
He was swearing in frustration at the empty lane when Kara came up behind him.
“I swear I saw her, Niall.”
“I know you did.”
“I didn’t imagine it,” his wife insisted. “She knew we were in Tom Hawkins’s rooms. She was watching.”
“I don’t doubt you, Kara.” He gestured into the lane. “Look. Those droppings are fresh. She had someone waiting here. I caught a glimpse of the cart as it turned out of the lane into the street.” He struck the door with a hand. “Damn it! It’s a maze down here near the docks. She could be anywhere by now.”
“We’ll never find her,” Kara said glumly.
“Not tonight.” Reaching for her, he pulled her close. “But we will find her. We were close on her tail tonight. I hope it riles her.”
“Do we want her to be riled up?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s when she’s angry that she makes mistakes.” He draped an arm across her shoulders. “Come along. Let’s go home. We’ll start fresh tomorrow.”
Kara fell asleep against him on the long ride back to Bluefield, but Niall’s mind was too busy to let him rest. They needed a new lead, a new thread to follow. The problem was that they didn’t know enough about Petra Scot. That meant that they were going to have to start investigating what they didn’t know—and Stayme was not going to like it.
*
“Oh, you are not going to like this,” Stayme said.
It was the next afternoon. Niall and Kara had slept late. They had taken breakfast together while they discussed their options in continuing the search for Petra. Niall warned her that Stayme had already discouraged the line of enquiry Niall thought most promising.
“That was meant to be my line,” Niall told the old man now.
“We’ll go first,” Stayme said, indicating Turner as his partner. “Ours is bound to be shorter. And more disappointing.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Kara said sourly.
They had gathered in the guest room, where Turner was still confined by doctor’s orders. Kara sat in a chair close to the bed and Niall stood behind her. He watched the viscount and the butler exchange glances.
“Is this about the spy in our household?”
“It is.” Turner patted her hand. “The good news is that we don’t believe it was any of our usual staff who betrayed us.”
“Who was it, then?” Niall asked gruffly. He hated the idea of someone lurking here, in what had always been Kara’s safe retreat.
Now Turner looked abashed. “On the day that you returned home, earlier, before you arrived, I interviewed a young man for a footman’s position. He didn’t have the necessary experience, and frankly, he didn’t appear to have the temperament I require in the household. He seemed quite taken aback, however, that I did not hire him on the spot. He protested that he needed a position, a place to live. I sent him down to the stables to see if they might wish to take on a groom. He set off in that direction, but your arrival distracted me. I forgot to follow up with the stable master about him. I didn’t recall the interview until yesterday, when Stayme came to me about someone in the household possibly working with Petra Scot.”
“We talked to the stable master,” Stayme said, taking up the story. “The boy never spoke with him. He was never seen in the stables at all. But he was spotted setting out in that direction from the house.”
“In the same direction as the laboratory,” said Turner.
“So you think he placed the biscuits in Kara’s lab?” asked Niall.
“He’s the likeliest suspect,” Stayme said. “And I didn’t think he would be.” He shot Kara a sheepish look. “I’m afraid I put most of your staff to a bit of a grilling yesterday. They are all steadfastly loyal to you, Kara. And to Niall.” He ducked his head. “I had to smooth more than a few ruffled feathers, they were so insulted at the idea of any of them betraying you.”
Niall saw a bit of tension ease in his wife. Hearing Stayme confirm her staff’s loyalty smoothed a few of his own ruffled feathers. “But what of the notes? You think the same young man stuck them to the front door?”
Turner sighed. “We haven’t got that part worked out yet.”
“But we will,” Stayme vowed.
“I admit, it is a huge relief to think that it wasn’t one of our people,” Kara said. “But sir, I think we are going to need you to focus on helping us find Petra.”
“I’m sorry her classmates in that misguided experiment didn’t lead you to her, my dear,” the viscount said.
“Yes, well, at least we have what we need to prevent Matthew Hanlin from damaging any more children,” she said. “But we need to find Miss Scot. She’s taunting us.”
“Maybe she was taunting you at the last, allowing herself to be seen like that, but I would wager she never expected you to get so close,” Stayme said. “I’ll bet she’s rattled.”
“Perhaps. But I’m afraid if she is rattled, she might be prodded to strike again. We need to find her before she does, but we are out of ideas.”
“There is still one avenue we might explore.” Niall cast a laden glance at Stayme.
The viscount frowned back at him before Niall saw understanding dawn. Stayme hopped out of his chair. “No. I’ve already told you. That’s not a good idea. Surely we’ll find another way.”
“What isn’t a good idea?” demanded Kara.
“Questioning her father,” Niall answered.
“Petra Scot’s father? But we don’t know who he is.” She glanced between them. “Do we?”
“We know who he could be.”
“ Might be,” Stayme countered. “There is no way to prove it. And right or wrong, if you confront the man and ask, you will likely have made an enemy.”
Niall shrugged.
“An enemy? Of whom?” asked Kara.
Niall indicated that Stayme should answer.
“Damn it, Niall!”
“If we had another lead, we’d follow it. Tell her.”
Stayme stared stubbornly for a long moment before he let loose an explosive breath. “Very well! But the consequences will fall to you to clean up.”
“So be it,” Niall said mildly.
“Who is it?” Kara asked again.
“It is speculation ,” the viscount stressed. “But we know several things that make us suspect one man in particular.” He held up a finger. “Petra told the pair of you that her father was one of Princess Caroline’s trusted advisors. A man of the law. And who amongst her advisors was her greatest champion? The man she eventually appointed her own attorney general?”
“Brougham,” Kara said automatically. Her mouth dropped open. “You do not believe it is him?”
“He did champion Caroline repeatedly,” Stayme said. “First when the prince regent tried to prevent her from seeing her daughter, Princess Charlotte. And later when her husband and the Tories tried to dissolve her marriage and strip her of her title.”
“But…he was a lord chancellor,” Kara breathed. “Surely he wouldn’t…”
“He wasn’t lord chancellor at the time Petra was conceived. And he was a Scot ,” Stayme reminded them. “He was spending a great deal of time with Caroline then, before she negotiated with Castlereagh to let her go abroad.”
“Good heavens,” Turner said quietly.
“Brougham also was—and still is—a great proponent of education. A radical, he was called at times, even before he was in office and proposed the Public Education Act.”
“Miss Scot said she was sent back to her father as soon as she was born abroad—and that he promptly turned her over to Matthew Hanlin for his educational experiment.”
“Exactly what a married statesman with his own family might do with a natural-born daughter, isn’t it?” suggested Stayme.
Kara sat, blinking at the possibility. She looked to Niall. “So do you think he knows? What she has become?”
Stayme answered before Niall could speak. “Of course he knows, but he damned well doesn’t want anyone else to know it. If he knew you suspected the truth, he’d likely already be moving against you.”
“The man hasn’t held any political power in years,” Niall objected.
“That doesn’t make him any less dangerous. Brougham was drummed out of his position because he was arrogant and dangerous. He’s not afraid to burn bridges. He stood in the House of Lords and threatened to expose George’s illegal marriage to Maria Fitzherbert. You and your mother would have been exposed as well, Niall.” Stayme shook his head. “Brougham backed them all down. He also made an enemy of Byron and of Wellington, for God’s sake. A few years ago, he tried to apply for French citizenship and a seat in the French National Assembly. If he would abandon the country he once led, do you think he would hesitate to ruin a fledgling duke of dubious origins and his slightly scandalous wife? The pair of you are particularly vulnerable to his sort of enmity.”
“He’s vulnerable, too,” Niall insisted. “If it becomes known what Petra has done to undermine the throne and the nation, and his connection to her is exposed…”
“It’s a dangerous game,” Stayme warned. “And he’s a ruthless opponent. Listen, allow me to send out a few feelers. Gauge his current mood. Discover if he is even in the country. He spends much of his time on the French coast. In the meantime, the pair of you think about whether you want to enter a war like this. And try like hell to find another path to Petra Scot.”
Niall agreed, and they all stood and started to disperse. He was weighing Stayme’s arguments in his mind. His mentor wielded a hidden power that made him a man to be reckoned with, the sort that came from knowing everyone’s secrets and where all the bodies were buried. The fact that he urged caution with Brougham meant something.
“Wait.” Kara paused in the doorway. “Perhaps we do have another thread to follow. Turner, what was the name of the man you interviewed for footman? If Petra sent him, perhaps he can lead us back to her.”
Turner brightened, but it only lasted a moment. “If we can find him.”
“His name?”
“Jamie Horton. At least, that was the name he gave me.”
“He’s not a local, then?”
“No. He said he came in on the early train from London.”
“Well, then, perhaps he stopped in the village. Or he might have spoken to someone on the train. We could ask about, discover which locals might have ridden with him.”
“It’s a long shot,” mused Niall.
“It is,” Kara said. “But I cannot just sit and wait. It will give me something to do . Something to make me feel as if we are getting closer.”
Niall understood. “Then let’s go.”