Chapter Three
In a timely manner, they arrived at Duncan Place, each stepping down, one after another, as their coaches rolled to a stop before the gates of the house they had all once called “home.” Ironically, Justin Hartley, Duncan’s secretary at the Home Office, was waiting for Mr. Fields to respond to his knock.
They all entered the house on Hartley’s heels, though the future baron should have entered last if they had been practicing precedence, which none of them thought necessary with family.
Lord Richard Orson met them in the foyer. “Not too loud. Lady Emma is asleep on the settee, so Duncan has moved our conversation into the ante room.”
Though none of them said anything, they were all thinking that they would soon see Orson proposing to Lady Emma Donoghue, assuming Orson could discover who had recently attacked the woman.
They knew, though none of them had openly said so, that Orson had been infatuated with Lady Emma for more than a year.
It was just God’s hand, as Benjamin would term it, that the lady had quite unpredictably staggered into Orson’s arms the night of her attack.
Beaufort led the way into the smaller room, where they quickly gathered around a wool coat laid out upon a nearby table.
They circled the table so they could each have a good look at the garment they likely knew better than did Duncan, for, at least, they had viewed it upon Duncan’s attacker.
Theodora lingered in the shadows, carefully studying her father, who had not been downstairs since before the shooting.
“This was delivered earlier,” Orson explained. “Reportedly, someone at the Lyon’s Den found it stuffed in one of the niches in the columns in the foyer leading to the rear entrance of the Den.”
“We examined that area the night of the shooting,” Hartley said aloud what they were all thinking. “I reached into each of those niches myself, for we were looking for the weapon the man used. The openings are not large enough to disguise the coat for long.”
“Then you believe someone has recently placed it there?” Beaufort asked.
“Are we even confident it is the same one worn by the shooter?” Marksman asked. “It all happened so quickly, all I recall is the shooter wore a coat long enough that it nearly reached his knees.”
“Has someone else searched the coat itself?” Benjamin asked.
“According to Titan, one of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s employees found it and turned it over to the lady,” Orson shared.
“Titan said it was tempting to search the pockets, but no one had done so. Supposedly, it was folded over several times and wrapped, first, in the silver paper and then in an old sheet. Those are the items on the chair yonder.” He gestured to an armchair in the corner near the drapes.
“Have you examined the pockets, my lord?” Hartley asked Duncan.
“In truth, I was not confident I was yet strong enough to learn the truth,” Duncan said in tones that sent a shiver of dread down Benjamin’s spine. Each of the men in the room would have known devastation without Lord Macdonald Duncan’s intervention.
“I will do it, my lord,” Hartley declared. “After all, it will be my responsibility to secure it at the Home Office.”
They all stood watch as Hartley unbuttoned the few remaining buttons on the garment and folded back the sides to examine it for any tats or tears. Benjamin stared at it with quiet fascination. He suspected his brothers were all reliving that moment which changed all their lives. He assuredly was.
“Remember, after the attack, we all remarked how long the coat appeared upon Duncan’s attacker,” Marksman stated. “The man was not quite as tall as I.”
“He walked with authority,” Beaufort added. “He had an objective, and he did not sway from his task, no matter how many of us were looking on.”
“Naturally, with our exit as a group, the shooter would have anticipated Duncan also leaving the Den,” Hartley stated as he fingered the cloth.
“Though, truthfully, of late, I have come to believe Lord Duncan’s exit was as big of a surprise to the shooter as it was for us.
We had already made arrangements for Thompson’s coach to deliver him to Duncan Place.
None of us thought that Duncan’s business with Mrs. Dove-Lyon would end so quickly.
It is my belief the man thought to wait for our departures and Duncan’s eventual exit.
I imagine he was as stunned as we were, but for a different reason. ”
“I agree,” Duncan observed, “with both Marksman and Hartley’s observations.
How is a coincidence planned so perfectly?
None of it makes sense. Since the incident, I have been ruminating over the ‘happenstance’ that provided the perfection of that moment.
The only error I can account for in the man’s plan was the distance my attacker was from the Lyon’s Den’s door.
If he had not bumped into Marksman, he would have been at least two strides closer on the right instead of the left, and his aim would have been more accurate.
Yet, Hartley’s assumption holds equal weight.
The gist of this matter is I came outside before he expected me to do so. ”
Behind them, Lady Theodora whimpered. Duncan turned to say, “I am sorry, my child. I should have recalled that you remained in the room. My Elsbeth would ring a bell over my head for distressing you.”
Marksman moved to take Theodora into a loose embrace. “Come along, Dora. You know how we men like to debate the most insignificant things.”
“But they are not insignificant,” Theodora protested.
Orson instructed, “I promise I will keep you informed if we learn anything new, but that will not be tonight. Right now, we are simply postulating on what else we must learn to solve this mystery. We will not come to a conclusion tonight, but we have taken a significant step. Permit Marksman to see you to your quarters. I will assist Lady Emma when we are finished here.”
Orson’s handling of the situation impressed Benjamin.
He knew Orson held aspirations of assuming an important post in government.
Benjamin briefly considered his own dreams: While Orson’s were large, and he prayed his brother achieved them, for, in Benjamin’s opinion, England and the United Kingdom required a man of great vision, which described his eldest brother perfectly.
His own dreams were smaller, but equally as important, for he wished to assist one man at a time, rather than the country as a whole.
“I shall be asking questions tomorrow,” Lady Theodora said stubbornly, “and I shall be expecting honest answers.”
Marksman claimed Theodora’s hand. “Come, Dora. Tell me about your day.”
They waited until the pair disappeared before they spoke again. “So, we all believe this was a planned attack that suspiciously appears to have gone awry,” Hartley summarized.
“Yes,” they each repeated softly.
Duncan stated the obvious, “I have stepped upon more than one set of toes in my position in government.”
“As well as protecting each of us,” Beaufort added, “meaning some of our enemies could have seen you as the source of their despair. However, I can say as an Irishman, it is rare that a Scot holds the repeated respect of the Irish, which you do. Yet, I can also say my countrymen often do not like the English government’s influence in Ireland, a position you hold.
Your name is often on the lips of my countrymen, with a variety of opinions being expressed. ”
Duncan shrugged. “I imagine Aaran’s and my constituents have their own complaints regarding my choices as head of the Scottish delegation in the Lords, and there is more than one English lord who objects to a Scot giving orders in England.”
“True you have your enemies,” Benjamin said in caution, “but this matter feels more personal. I imagine most who truly wished Duncan dead would hire another to do the dirty work. Pardon if I am too analytical in this matter, but it all feels quite intimate. I do not believe this attack has anything to do with your position in government or your stance on certain proposals. The person meant to walk right up to you, Duncan, and see you dead. The man meant to look you in the eye and know you recognized him and that his ‘justice’ was well placed. I had many hours at the Lyon’s Den, while you were still quite ill, to consider what was what, as well as to walk the scene of the shooting over and over again, looking at it from various angles.
My conclusion was this was something deeply especial in nature.
The man did not initially run away,” Benjamin continued.
“Like the rest of us, he was surprised by the outcome.”
“If he planned it, why was he surprised?” Beaufort asked in serious tones.
“I think he planned for Duncan to die on site. That he could stand over Duncan’s body and know he had had his final revenge.
Yet, from the time Duncan’s knees buckled, it was obvious the bullet had found its target, but it had not known the intended results.
There was still the chance Duncan would survive. ”
There was a solid minute of silence before Hartley said, “Let us examine the coat’s pockets and see if we can discover who has had it for the last month. I do not believe any of us think it was in one of the niches of the Lyon’s Den’s rear foyer and, somehow, we simply missed it.”
“I surely did not see it before tonight,” Benjamin said, “and I looked for clues every day I was with Duncan at the Lyon’s Den.”
“We each searched the area over and over again,” Orson stated the obvious. “Why has this coat just been found?”
No one objected as Hartley turned the coat inside out to look for secret pockets and the like. They examined every stain, tat, and loose thread.