Chapter Twenty-Two
E dith had been surprised but oddly pleased to see the baron enter the lending library, as she was confident the gentleman would be excited to hear about the snuffbox.
She and Louisa had just put Charlotte in Ashford’s carriage and sent her home with the snuffbox. Returning to Thorne’s, the women discussed the implications of the box found in the registry office, sure Ashford and his friends would want to keep the discovery of the snuffbox a secret.
“Did you come to the lending library to seek us out?” she asked lightly. And admittedly, hopefully.
“I did.” He paused. “How did Charlotte find the snuffbox? The registry office is currently closed.”
“We decided to search the office.” She felt the color rise in her cheeks. “After Mr. Porter let us into the registry, I pretended I had lost an earbob. When we searched the office, Charlotte found the snuffbox under a pile of papers on the bookshelf in the lobby.”
The baron replied, “I’m glad you didn’t visit the registry alone. We all must be careful in the future. The discovery of the snuffbox proves that someone who visited the registry is a member of the RA.”
“Finding the snuffbox gave poor Charlotte a turn. We sent her home in Ashford’s carriage,” Louisa added.
The baron let out a breath. “Ashford might not be too keen on his wife investigating the disappearance of the veterans in her condition.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have brought Charlotte into this.” Edith shook her head, upset with herself.
“Once Charlotte knew what you planned, I don’t think you could have prevented her from helping,” Louisa pointed out.
The baron sat forward in his chair. “Did any of the registry employees see the snuff box?”
Edith shook her head. “No, Charlotte hid it in her reticule.”
“It is best we don’t mention it to anyone else except Lord Wycliffe. The snuff box doesn’t mean the RA is undeniably involved with the disappearance of our veterans, but it is a possibility.”
“Have you any news about the missing veterans, Lord Harbury?” she asked.
“After investigating the matter, I don’t believe the men were impressed.”
She glanced at Louisa before Edith asked, “I know this would be a rare occurrence, but you don’t think the veterans were kidnapped to use as cadavers for one of the hospitals?”
Lord Harbury remained silent a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t believe that has happened. Now, that may be wishful thinking. I want to believe the men are alive. That they’re safe and sound.”
She let out a breath. “As do I. Did your sister Alicia tell you about the transportation article in The Times ?”
“She did. Lady Edith, your assistance in this matter has been invaluable. Transportation is most assuredly an avenue we need to explore.”
For a moment, Edith thought about what Louisa and Diana had said about Lord Harbury's feelings toward her. If she could decipher anything about his current feelings, it would be that he appreciated her assistance in finding the missing veterans
“I will admit I don’t know much about how convicts are transported to New Holland,” the baron continued. “That will take more research.”
“But you do know about press gangs in the Navy. Charlotte also hinted that you may have been involved in espionage.” Louisa raised a brow.
“Did she now?” The gentleman leaned in to whisper. “I wasn’t one of Wellington’s Intelligencers, but I may have been privy to some state secrets.”
Espionage? Lord Harbury? Edith couldn’t believe it.
“Edith doesn’t look convinced,” Louisa pointed out wryly.
“Then my mild-mannered facade is working.” The baron got to his feet. “I have an appointment this afternoon to question a contact who may be able to shed some light on whether our missing veterans are being held for transportation.”
“That would be helpful,” she responded, glad to change the subject.
The baron nodded. “Perhaps I will have news for you tomorrow afternoon in Kensington Gardens during the promenade.”
She replied, “We will be happy to hear it.”
“Good day, ladies.”
After Lord Harbury departed, Edith couldn’t help but wonder if the baron had been a spy during the war or merely the simple naval officer she’d thought him to be.
* * * * *
N athaniel had relished the surprised look on Lady Edith’s face when Louisa remarked on his wartime activities. Cecil had only been mentioned in passing.
Was he jealous of his handsome, adventurous friend? Only when it came to Edith. He respected Cecil, and the man was loyal to a fault.
Nathaniel entered his town coach and proceeded to Angelo’s Fencing Academy. He still had time to exercise and bathe before his appointment with Lady Sandhurst.
A few hours later, he arrived at the lady’s home, intrigued as to what important matter the countess wished to discuss with him.
The butler took his hat and cane. “My lady awaits you in the drawing room.”
A footman in gray livery escorted him down a corridor. The lady’s servants didn’t wear the livery John, the brother-in-law of Seaman Wilson, had seen on the day Wilson disappeared.
He entered the drawing room, and the footman announced, “Lord Harbury.”
After the servant exited the room, Lady Sandhurst waved a hand at a nearby sopha, a twin to the one upon which she sat. “Please be seated. Would you like some tea?”
A tea tray was on a table at her elbow. Nathaniel took a seat. “No, thank you, my lady.”
The countess sat back on the plush sopha.
“I was glad to hear you are well.”
She nodded. “I am. It is a lucky thing you didn’t eat any of my supper.”
“I noticed others in distress before I could sample the food,” he replied grimly.
There was a silence.
“What did you wish to speak to me about, Lady Sandhurst?”
“I might ask you the same question.” The lady pursed her lips.
“Why did you invite my sister and myself to your card party? We barely know each other.”
She shrugged. “I was asked to.”
He frowned. “By whom?”
“I wish I could tell you. All I know is I received an anonymous letter telling me to invite you. If I didn’t, something might happen to my daughter and her family.”
He looked a question.
“My only child, Anne, is married to the Earl of Breckston. They have two young children.”
“And my presence at your party had nothing to do with your being Lt. Cooper’s godmother?” He paused. “You feel no ill will towards me because of Cooper’s death?”
“His mother and I were friends years ago. She passed soon after the boy was born; I did not know Lt. Cooper very well. I bear you no grudge. You were invited to my card party because my family was threatened.”
“Have you told anyone else about the threat?”
The lady shook her head. “I was warned not to go to the runners or tell anyone about the letter. Unfortunately, I threw the note in the fire before I came to the realization it might be useful.”
“Yet you’re telling me about it.”
She nodded. “I let my maid know that you demanded an audience with me to express your displeasure at your sister becoming ill at my party.”
And the servant grapevine would do the rest.
“You’re not afraid of repercussions?”
“I know you are friends with Lord Wycliffe.” She added grimly, “If anyone can ferret out who would threaten my family, it would be him. I assume someone tampering with the food at my party is related to the request you be in attendance.”
The woman was very astute. He believed the same thing. “Shall I raise my voice before I leave? It would give credence to your story.”
“That would be a great help.”
He rose to his feet. “Lady Sandhurst, I am appalled that you do not know what happened in your kitchens! It is unacceptable! Neither my sister nor I will darken your door again!”
Nathaniel strode from the room, nearly running into a footman in the corridor. With a theatrical scowl, he brushed by the servant and made to don his outerwear in the entry hall, grumbling under his breath.
A moment later, a scream pierced the air. The footman assisting him into his coat paused. Nathaniel heard another scream and observed several servants rushing down the nearby corridor.
Nathaniel hurried along after the servants to a music room in the back of the house. He pushed through the small crowd gathering around the doorway of the room to see a housemaid standing over a prone body on the floor, sobbing.
The scene that met his eyes was gruesome. A woman, a maid he ascertained from her dress, had been bludgeoned in the head several times. She lay on her back, a tall silver candlestick resting beside her prone body.
“Poor Agnes,” the sobbing maid who stood over the body managed to get out on a ragged breath.
An older woman stepped forward and took the crying maid by the arm to draw her away. As she passed him, the woman asked, “Who are you?”
“Lord Nathaniel Harbury. I had an appointment with Lady Sandhurst.”
“I’m the housekeeper, my lord. One of the footmen has already departed for Bow Street. Let me take this young woman and see to her.”
The butler appeared. “Go with Mrs. Simpson, dear.”
The young maid nodded and allowed herself to be escorted from the room by the housekeeper.
“The victim is a maid named Agnes?” He asked the butler. With the extensive damage to the victim’s face, he wondered how anyone could tell which maid it was.
“Oh yes, she is, was, the scullery maid. Her uniform is never as clean as the other maids. Her hair is always untidy as well.”
He briefly glanced at the body again. The young woman had a copious amount of black hair, most of it spilling out from under her cap. “The runners should be here any moment.”
The butler nodded. “I will speak to the mistress.”
“Before you go, was this maid involved in preparing the card party supper in any way?” It was worth asking.
“Normally, she wouldn’t have been, but we were short of hands that day. She not only helped with preparing the meal, she went to the market for several items.”
He’d suspected as much. “And there was no reason for Agnes to be in this room?”
“None, my lord.”
He thought a moment. “To help disperse the crowd, we should close the door. I will wait with the body until the runners arrive.”
The butler looked unsure but nodded. “Very good, my lord.”
Nathaniel shut and locked the door behind the other man. He could hear the butler asking the other servants to return to their duties.
He took a moment to look around the music room, which held a pianoforte, a harp, a settee, and several hard-baked chairs. The candlestick next to the body looked to be one of a matched set, its twin residing on the pianoforte. There was a pair of French doors, and one of the doors was ajar.
Nathaniel opened the door wider and looked out onto a small terrace. Stepping out into the back garden, he noticed another pair of French doors along the outside wall of the house. He looked through the closed doors; the room was a study with no one inside. Turning, he spied the mews at the garden's edge beyond an iron gate.
He needed to unlock the music room when the runners arrived, so investigating the mews could wait.
Back inside the house, he studied the body, attempting to stay detached. Although he was used to death, he'd never seen a female body in such a horrific state.
The young woman had pockets in her apron, and he searched them, finding nothing. He noticed a torn piece of vellum clutched in Agnes's right hand and opened her fingers to remove the scrap.
You failed. Harbury-
Would the RA have poisoned all the food at the supper merely to kill or injure him? He remembered something odd from that night. His sister had fixed him a plate of food with a surfeit of green beans, his favorite dish. He’d been too distracted by Edith and the missing veterans to eat; Alicia commented that the dish had disappeared from the buffet, so he suggested she eat his portion.
If the scullery maid had helped with the buffet, he wondered if she’d put something in the dish of green beans.
After looking about the room again, Nathaniel unlocked the music room door and deposited the vellum fragment in a trouser pocket. A few moments later, he heard voices in the corridor and opened the door to see Black Jack, a uniformed runner in his wake.
“Harbury!” Black Jack brushed by him. “Interesting to find you here.”
“I had an appointment with Lady Sandhurst. I heard the screams of the maid who found the body and remained to make sure nothing in the room was disturbed.”
Jack walked to stand over the body. “The butler informs me the victim is a scullery maid named Agnes.”
“That is my understanding.”
“Do you have any observations, my lord?” Black Jack raised a brow.
“Other than a bloody candlestick and a French door left ajar? No, I don’t. I’ll leave you to it.” He crossed the room to the French doors.
“Where are you going?”
“The mews. My carriage awaits.”
Nathaniel slipped out of the door, crossed the terrace, and took the three steps down to the gravel path that led to the iron garden gate. His coach was indeed waiting for him, his driver on the box.
“Did you see anyone leave the house?” he asked the man.
“I heard the screams, my lord, but nobody came through here. I would have seen them.”
The driver’s answer was what he’d expected. The man was in a position to see anyone entering or leaving the mews.
“Home, David.”
Once he entered his carriage and it rolled away, a suspicion began forming into a solid theory. Whoever had killed the maid was either a servant or someone hiding in the house. His coin was on the murderer being another servant.
Upon arriving home, he sent dispatches to Ashford and Cecil. He couldn’t think of an excuse to investigate further in Lady Sandhurst’s house, and he had no desire to turn the scrap of vellum over to Black Jack. Who knew how many runners might be employed by the RA?
Nathaniel was relieved to have a quiet night at home as Alicia had gone to the theater with Lady Kettering. So much had occurred in the last week. Threads were leading everywhere. What events were connected to the disappearance of the veterans? He needed time to think.