CHAPTER 5

The following morning, a pale but resolute Cordelia appeared in the breakfast room of the manor house.

As planned, she and Sheffield had spent the night at the Dower House, a charming brick residence tucked in a secluded corner of the estate property, in order to have some privacy on their wedding night.

But Charlotte doubted that the occasion had been the perfectly joyful interlude it should have been.

“You are quite certain that you feel up to traveling to Cambridge?” she asked, after rising from the table and giving Cordelia a hug.

They had come up with a plan the previous evening.

At first, Cordelia had wished to be part of the group accompanying Whalley and Goffe to positively identify the body.

But her brother Jamie—Lord Mansfield—had insisted on being the one to view the corpse, as he, too, was well acquainted with Jasper Milton.

Instead it had been decided that Cordelia and Charlotte should travel into Cambridge to speak with the three fellow members of the Revolutions-Per-Minute Society who were visiting the university for several days in order to attend a series of lectures given by an engineering expert from Bavaria.

Given that Milton had been murdered, it seemed that his closest friends would be the most likely to know if anyone had wished him ill. So Mansfield had dispatched urgent notes to them requesting a meeting, and the affirmative answers had been sent back with the same messenger.

“Of course I feel up to traveling to Cambridge.” Her friend poured a cup of coffee from the still steaming pot on the table. “Marriage hasn’t transformed me into a weak-kneed, spineless widgeon.”

“I wasn’t implying any such thing,” replied Charlotte. “Indeed, the union of kindred hearts and minds makes each person even stronger. But the murder of a loved one cuts to the quick. Don’t underestimate the toll it will take on your emotions.”

The memories of her own experiences caused her chest to clench. “You may think you are prepared for such an ordeal. But nobody truly is.”

A flicker of sympathy stirred beneath Cordelia’s lashes. The two of them had met during the investigation into the violent death of Charlotte’s cousin. Indeed, for a time, Cordelia was suspected of having committed the crime.

“I’m under no illusion that any previous experience will lessen the pain of the coming investigation.” Dropping her gaze, Cordelia swirled her coffee and took a long sip. “But doing nothing would hurt far more.”

Charlotte was about to respond, but after a moment of reflection her friend continued.

“As I told you all yesterday, Jasper was my closest childhood companion,” she explained.

“He, too, always had his nose in a book. Rather than join the other boys of the neighboring estates in riding like little demons and creating mischief throughout the countryside, he encouraged my interest in mathematics and was a mentor in helping me learn about advanced concepts when everyone else thought it was terribly unladylike.”

“He sounds very much a kindred soul,” said Charlotte.

Cordelia smiled, though it was edged with sadness. “Jasper was also key in helping me masquerade as a man so I could attend the university lectures at Cambridge. I owe him . . .” She looked away. “I owe him more than I can ever repay.”

“Seeking the truth and feeling that justice has prevailed will give some solace that evil has not been permitted to triumph over good.” Charlotte reached out and gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “But you must also be prepared for unexpected revelations, which may prove very painful.”

“I have not forgotten that some of my own less-than-savory secrets came to light when you were investigating your cousin’s murder,” said Cordelia softly.

Her brows then suddenly drew together. “Are you trying to discourage me from pursuing the investigation? Surely you don’t really think I would shy away from seeking the truth, no matter how ugly. ”

Charlotte surrendered a wry sigh. “It was worth a try. After all, you and Kit are supposed to be heading off on your wedding trip to Paris. Wrex and I will make sure that—”

“Paris has been in existence for several millennia,” interjected Cordelia. “I daresay it will still be there after we have resolved Jasper’s murder.”

“Then let us discuss our strategy for today,” said Charlotte, “before Alison and any of our remaining houseguests arise. As we agreed last night, it’s best not to mention the word “murder” to anyone here at the house until the official verdict of the inquest is announced.

” A pause. “Alison has done quite enough sleuthing of late. I would prefer that she doesn’t demand to come with us. ”

“Yes, it’s best that just you and I meet with the society members,” agreed Cordelia.

“I know two of them quite well from their university days. They were close comrades with both Jasper and my cousin Oliver, as they all shared a passion for mathematics and engineering. And they were aware of my masquerade and kept mum about it. Indeed, they were always encouraging of my aspirations. So I think they will be forthcoming with us about who might have had reason to wish Jasper ill.”

She fell silent, looking lost in the past for a moment before continuing. “The third fellow is a more recent member.”

“Did Jamie mention to them that Milton is dead?” asked Charlotte.

“No, he simply said that I had a serious matter to discuss regarding him,” answered Cordelia. “I am also hoping they may have some word from my cousin Oliver. It’s very strange that we’ve not heard from him explaining why he missed the wedding.”

“As we’ve been told, traveling is still difficult in many areas.

He’s likely stuck somewhere, and any letter he sent is also delayed.

” Charlotte made a face. “Wrex says that’s another good reason why those in the Revolutions-Per-Minute Society are right to think that improving transportation is a very important issue for the future.

Communication is key for so many reasons, and currently the delivery of mail is erratic. ”

Before they could continue, a footman appeared in the doorway to inform them that the carriage was ready, and they hurriedly gathered their wraps and were on the road to Cambridge before anyone else came down for breakfast. The weather had cleared, and though the storm had caused severe rutting in places, the worst of the mud had dried, allowing them to make good time.

The carriage stopped on Trinity Lane to let Charlotte and Cordelia out at the imposing archway that gave access to the quadrangle of Clare College’s Old Court.

“The society members said they would meet us in the Great Hall,” said Cordelia, who knew her way around the university as well as any male student. She gestured toward a graveled walkway that ran down the middle of the Old Court’s verdant lawn. “This way.”

The voices of a choir, sweet and clear as the early afternoon sunlight, echoed softly off the surrounding stone.

“How lovely,” murmured Charlotte, looking up at the Gothic spires that were visible behind the stately splendor of college buildings.

“The King’s College Chapel is renowned for its choristers,” said Cordelia. She, too, paused for a moment, listening to a passage of Mozart’s Ave Verum Corpus. “It is nice to be reminded that there is beauty in this world that cannot be diminished by the evil that lurks in the human heart.”

“Amen to that,” replied Charlotte.

Cordelia sighed and smoothed at the ribbons of her bonnet. “We had better move on to our meeting.”

They entered the grand building at the end of the walkway and turned left, where a short corridor brought them to an open set of carved oak doors.

“Lady Cordelia!” A slender, sandy-haired gentleman broke away from his two companions standing beneath the soaring leaded windows inset with stained glass heraldic crests and hurried to greet them.

“It is always a great pleasure to see you. But I must say, the three of us were rather alarmed at Jamie’s note. I do hope Jasper isn’t in any trouble.”

“I am now Mrs. Sheffield, Kendall,” corrected Cordelia. To Charlotte, she added, “Allow me to introduce Jasper’s good friend and fellow engineering wizard, Kendall Garfield.” A smile. “Kendall, this is Lady Wrexford.”

The other two men quickly approached to go through the required ritual of formal introductions, and then Garfield cleared his throat.

“Might I suggest that we go somewhere a little more comfortable where we can have a private conversation?”

The Great Hall, noted Charlotte, was indeed imposing and not conducive to the quiet discussion of personal matters.

A cavernous space with a high ornate ceiling and intricately carved dark wood paneling, it had a rigid formality that was accentuated by the gilt-framed painted portraits of solemn-faced college dignitaries from the past looking down from on high.

“An excellent idea,” replied Cordelia as she accepted his arm.

“Lady Wrexford?” It was Mercer Wayland, the tallest and best-dressed of the three men, who offered to escort her into the corridor.

“Thank you.” Charlotte smiled up at him, using the opportunity to study the details of the paneling. One never knew when circumstances might require her to draw a scene within these hallowed halls.

Ezra Wheeler, a burly fellow who looked cut from a rougher cloth than his two friends, was left to follow along behind them.

Garfield led them to a smaller sitting room with a pair of sofas and several cushioned armchairs arranged in front of a marble hearth.

“I must say, I always feel like a naughty schoolboy in the Great Hall,” he said lightly, “about to be roundly scolded by all those intimidating gentlemen peering down their noses at me.”

Charlotte chuckled politely along with the others.

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