Chapter Seven #2
Hartley shrugged. “Just that each of you have been permitted to develop skills that match your interests. Duncan could easily have quashed your interest in medicine, but, instead, he permitted you to attend school in Edinburgh with the likes of Mr. Rheem.” They were quiet for several minutes before Hartley added, “Beaufort has released his mistress.”
“Really?” Benjamin remarked in surprise.
“Do you know why? He has seemed more than a bit distracted of late, but I thought it had something to do with his maternal grandmother. I heard she is ill. Lady Klare’s man of business has asked Beaufort to come to Klare Fields as soon as it is possible after he finishes this Parliamentary term. ”
Hartley admitted, “I was not aware of problems in Ireland. Is Lady Klare ill?”
“I am not confident,” Benjamin admitted, “but assuredly Beaufort would be upset. Lady Klare is the last of his mother’s immediate family.
” Benjamin paused to consider how he should present Beaufort with his support.
“It has been a good while since Navan and I have dined together. Just the two of us. He should be told he has no need to travel this road alone. I could even go with him, if he has a use for me.”
“I wonder when Honfleur will return from France.” Hartley did not remark on Benjamin’s news, but that simply meant the man was digesting the information. “It seems a bit foolish for two of us to watch a house when Miss Moreau is there alone. She does not even light a candle at night.”
“You may leave if you like. You have duties at the Home Office tomorrow and likely duties to your parents this evening. As you say, it does not take two of us to watch a nearly empty house. I understand Honfleur forbade the girl from leaving it.”
Hartley smiled deviously. “My parents are dining with relatives who hang on the hopes of my father’s early demise, for they think I will be easier to manipulate.
They assume with my Home Office position and the promotion to the British Embassy, that I have no need for the life of a lord of the Realm.
I find I despise all the fawning, but my father would not approve of my saying so aloud. ”
“Neither would have my father,” Benjamin admitted.
“Our priorities are quite different from the gentlemen we have replaced.” As they again turned their attention to Amgen House, Benjamin suspected Hartley also was considering how their lives varied greatly from many with whom they associated each day.
Finally, he asked, “Did our men learn anything of importance about the coat?”
Hartley finished off his tea. “The coat was smaller than what we expected.”
“How so?” Benjamin inquired.
“Well, to begin, we all described the man equal in height to Marksman. Remember how the man bumped Marksman’s shoulder when he strode through the middle of our group?”
“Yes, I thought he was a bit taller than me. Closer to Orson in height, but on the solid side in weight. Nothing to distinguish him,” Benjamin admitted.
“That is exactly what I meant. I tend to be a bit bonier than each of those with whom we dined that evening, and the coat was tight on me,” Hartley explained.
“Then we have been looking for a man close to six-foot in height and solidly built, but we erred?” Benjamin sat straighter, responding to these new facts.
“The coat hung long on me. I am a fraction shorter than you, and it barely fits over my shoulders. If it belonged to Duncan’s shooter, and I am relatively assured it did, somehow what we all saw is not true,” Hartley provided.
“Is it possible we all saw what seemed the most logical?” Benjamin asked. A deep line of confusion marked his brow.
“I spoke to Duncan about our findings. Some of those who study human behavior have said we all thought it would take a ‘giant’ of a man to bring Duncan down. It is similar to how we all thought that no one as insignificant as John Bellingham would dare to murder the Prime Minister. We assumed such an attack would have come from a foreign government, not the English populace. We see what is most logical, but our memory is not always accurate. We find that is true in one investigation after another. Ten people can view the same crime, but none of them actually see it in the same manner.”
“Then it is very possible that the person simply dispensed with the coat nearby and joined those streaming from the Lyon’s Den that evening,” Benjamin surmised. “Perhaps wearing a jacket and waistcoat and cravat, just as we all did, presenting himself with more bulk than we anticipated.”
“Some men pad their bodies to appear more muscular to impress the ladies,” Hartley remarked. “And, remember, there was a button missing.”
“And no one has found it.” Benjamin stated the obvious. “Perhaps it came loose when he was fighting to remove it while running away.”
“Not found, as yet. We did not know of the button’s absence until Titan brought us the coat.
I have sent men out in search of it, but nothing.
We thought if we could find it, we would know when the man shed the coat.
At the scene of the shooting and in the midst of the chaos?
Or he carried it back to the area later just to be rid of it. ”
“Would you object to my having a closer look? Tomorrow. In the daylight hours?” Benjamin asked.
Hartley shrugged his response. “A fresh set of eyes is never a bad idea. Moreover, you witnessed the man’s retreat. You might better view the scene in your head and imagine where to look.”
Benjamin laughed. “You sound very much like Duncan when addressing these matters.”
“I pray always to be as reasonable as is our Lord Duncan and as decisive. Perhaps sounding like him is the first step.”
The days were ticking by, and soon Victoria and the child would be required to leave their quarters, for Mrs. Holland had not relented in her orders for them to vacate the room, though she had permitted them an extra month, as long as Victoria took the child with her at night and kept his crying to a minimum.
She knew she owed Mrs. Taylor and likely the lady’s solicitor son a large dose of gratitude for convincing Mrs. Holland to permit Victoria to stay a bit longer.
Victoria had read and reread Cassandra’s letter, and one line struck her. Today, she meant to discover the truth.
She knew from her previous call upon Mrs. Dove-Lyon that Cassandra had asked for a position in the Lyon’s Den.
“Could the former soldier mentioned in the letter have been the man known as ‘Titan’? Of course, there are hundreds and hundreds of former soldiers on London’s streets; however…
” Tears rushed to Victoria’s eyes, but she forced them away.
“No time for tears,” she thought. “Must concentrate on my walk and the safety of this child and my person. We have more than a few miles between us and hopefully reuniting with your mother, my boy.”
More than three hours later, she stepped up on the brick walkway leading to the Lyon’s Den’s entrance.
Victoria was exhausted and damp with sweat.
Between the long hours at work and being denied sleep while caring for the child, she felt as if she were truly on her last leg.
She had made a harness of sorts and had carried the baby before her.
Mrs. Taylor had said many in the countryside used this method when the women joined the men in the fields for seeding or even harvest. Victoria was not confident it was any easier than simply carrying the child, but, generally, the boy had slept against her or gurgled his opinion of this new means to travel.
Somehow, she believed the child understood their plight or perhaps she and Cassandra smelled somewhat alike, and he thought Victoria was his mother.
She had wondered when he stared upon her when she was tending him if he could distinguish her from her sister.
Carefully, she approached the main door of the Lyon’s Den and was not surprised when one of those employed stepped out to prevent her entrance. “Pardon, ma’am, but this entrance be purely for gentlemen.”
“I do remember another gentleman telling me so when I called here previously to speak to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. A lady called ‘Hermia’ assisted me the last time,” she said with a purposeful lift of her chin in an attempt to appear confident.
“That must have been Egeus,” the man said. “I am Theseus.”
Victoria remembered Mrs. Dove-Lyon had spoken of her love of Shakespeare, and she wondered how the names were chosen for each employee of the Den. However, she swallowed her curiosity. “I was hoping to have a word with the gentleman known as ‘Titan,’ if he would be so kind.”
The man frowned. He looked behind him. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon has gathered those who work in the gaming rooms and dining for additional training. Naturally, Titan is assisting her.”
Victoria knew she frowned. “Do you know how long he might be involved? You see, I have walked for several hours to reach this point.”
“No, ma’am, but customarily those who work inside are excused by midmorning so they might claim some rest. You may wait if you like. I will tell Titan you wish to speak to him.”
Victoria looked around her and frowned. “Perhaps I might wait near the tree along the walkway. I do not wish to disturb the child while he still sleeps.”
“My sister has a young babe,” Theseus told her.
“The child belongs to my sister,” she admitted.
The man’s awkwardness was apparent. “There be a garden on the back side of the Den.” He pointed off to the right.
“Just past the kitchen entrance. Benches. Trees. Real nice. You might rest while you wait for Titan. This was once a London home of a titled family. Do you understand how such is situated?”
“I have a working knowledge of such homes,” she said. “It would be a blessing to sit for a bit. I have walked many miles to call upon your manager today.”
“When Titan is free, I will tell him you wish to speak to him,” the man assured.
With a nod of gratitude, Victoria started off to the right.
“At least a garden will be cooler, my boy—well, I suppose I should say, my nephew.” The child looked up at her as if he understood every word she said, though she knew such was impossible.
He could be but a month to six weeks old, but it was nice to think they were in this craziness together.