Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bruton Mews
Jacob paced between the window and Dora’s bed while she got ready behind a small screen for their evening engagement at Vauxhall. He tied a fresh cravat, nothing too fancy, by way of a knot but it was made from silk as befitted an appearance in society.
‘There’s no mistake? Percy is back in London?’ he called to her.
‘He is.’
‘Is it a joke?’
‘If it is, it is in very bad taste on the part of the French. The irony is overwhelming. Thanks to our help in killing off Fleury, Percy is now in good odour with his masters in Paris and they’ve sent him back.
’ She threw her day dress over the screen and took down the burgundy evening gown.
Jacob was tempted to go round to help her at this very interesting moment between gowns.
There was a lot of fun that could be had while buttoning dresses…
‘Jacob, are you listening?’
Damn, he must’ve missed something. ‘Sorry, I was contemplating coming behind your screen to help you dress.’
There was a gratifying pause as she considered it, before she said, ‘Tempting though that is, I’d better press on. We’ve got a lot to do. I asked you about the trade envoy post – is it a real position?’
‘The trade is real enough. Grain is one of the products that our government allows through the blockade when we don’t have enough. We were importing French wheat before the war and that hasn’t changed.’
‘Buying grain from the enemy? They’ve had years to sort it out!’
‘Even so, with a growing population in the cities, our farmers couldn’t increase our production quickly enough to do away with the imports despite all the enclosing that has been going on.
The harvest was bad across Europe last year, not just here, so Napoleon suspended exports, keeping the grain for his home market.
The government didn’t like that, and I imagine allowing Percy in as the trade envoy is part of the attempt to get the grain flowing again. ’
‘But doesn’t that strike you as strange? The government must know that the money we send goes into French coffers to buy the armaments that plants our boys in the ground.’
Jacob grimaced as he checked his cravat in the mirror.
‘There is more than one contradiction when it comes to trade. Name me a government minister who doesn’t indulge his taste for French wine and brandy, keeping the smugglers in business, while at the same time piously passing laws to prosecute them.
’ Moving to the bed he picked up his black jacket.
He slid his arms into the sleeves, pleased that this was no longer such a painful process.
The bruises were now more colourful than troublesome, and he diagnosed himself as healing up satisfactorily.
He’d always bounced back quickly from falls in riding and this was very similar.
Dora emerged, looking delectable in her gown, a hand-me-down from Lady Tolworth, that she had remade to fit her.
The current fashion to have the bodice lift the breasts and the sleeves start on the top of the shoulders left a field of very kissable skin exposed.
‘What do you think?’ She held her arms out and spun in a circle.
‘Perfect – and why isn’t it already time for bed?’ She laughed and shook a finger at him in warning. He resumed dressing, attaching his watchchain across his waistcoat, and added, ‘As for the trade envoy role, I imagine he is using that as a cover so he can be up to his old tricks informing on us.’
‘That’s what I thought. He said he has only just arrived.
If we take him at his word – never a safe wager, I know – then perhaps he was dispatched once the French heard about the murders?
They want to know what that was all about and sent a man to investigate.
Would you help me with my pearls?’ she asked.
‘Of course I’ll help. You mean he is doing the same task as we are?’
‘Thank you. I wouldn’t call it the same as he is on the opposite side. Have we overlooked another French agent running amok in London, killing off troublesome comtes and comtesses?’
‘We haven’t eliminated that possibility, but Percy’s arrival is the first presence of the French in the whole affair that we’ve detected.’
‘Apart from the victims themselves.’
‘True.’ He took the necklace from her. Dora didn’t have many jewels, and had rejected his attempts to buy her any, but she was proud of her double string of seed pearls, an eighteenth birthday gift from her brother.
Coming up behind her, he fastened the clasp and, naturally, had to run his lips over her bare neck.
‘Jacob!’ she exclaimed with a shiver.
‘When does the visitor leave, remind me?’ It couldn’t be soon enough.
‘Two more days.’ She turned around in his arms. ‘There are other things we can do before then. I think I hinted as much.’ Her hand went to the buttons on his breeches and her smile was pure sauce. ‘Poor love. We can’t have you going out in this state.’
He cleared his throat. She. Was. Killing. Him. He let his head drop back, having just enough sense to move away from the window.
‘Hmm? Nothing to say?’ teased Dora. The clock in the nearby church struck five. ‘We have an hour if you don’t mind missing dinner.’
‘Dinner? Who the h-hell needs dinner?’ He groaned as she slid to her knees and undid him.
Alex arrived back from the auction in time to accompany them to Vauxhall.
As an open-air venue with many directions from which people could come at them, Jacob welcomed the extra person on their team.
And perhaps it was as well he wasn’t alone with Dora in the carriage after that unplanned interlude – but, damn, she could make him blush like a maiden when he thought of what she’d done, wringing throaty cries from him that he hadn’t known he could make.
Once the visitor had gone, he would repay his debt with interest.
‘Everything all right, Sandys?’ asked Alex from the backward-facing seat of the hired carriage.
‘Just a twinge. From my injuries,’ Jacob lied, adjusting his breeches.
‘Is that what you call it?’
Dora kicked at Alex from the seat across from him. ‘Stop teasing. The poor man was at death’s door on Tuesday. You should rejoice he is well enough to come out tonight.’
‘Yes, be nice to me,’ said Jacob. ‘I’m one of the two people paying your wages.
’ He had to get his mind back on their business and consider what they were hoping to achieve in Vauxhall.
They had plenty of time for their discussion as the popularity of the fête meant there was a long line of carriages edging their way over Westminster Bridge.
If Dora hadn’t been shod in light slippers rather than boots, he would’ve suggested they got out and walked.
Perhaps he would when they got a bit closer.
‘Did Susannah have anything to say on the matter of clandestine visitors entering via the back stair?’ he asked. See? He could be businesslike.
Alex nodded. ‘She did, after much flattery and persuasion. As Dora said in her notes, the maid is loyal to her former mistress, and it took many promises that it wouldn’t travel further than me for her to divulge what she knew.
’ He made a sour face. ‘By “me”, I was thinking “in my presence”. If you happen to overhear my thoughts on the subject, then so be it. I’m not exactly breaking my word. ’
‘Sophist,’ said Dora. ‘Please continue. Speak your thoughts aloud. Don’t mind us.’
‘That I certainly won’t – apart from as it concerns getting paid. The helpful maid said it was an open secret in the house that the comte had his callers. The interesting new detail that didn’t come out in the inquest was that Lorenzo was the one who arranged their arrival and departure.’
‘That stands to reason,’ said Jacob. ‘He was the comte’s man and the one closest to him. I’ve not heard that he had the skills of a valet, so perhaps he had those of a pander?’
‘According to the maid, the comte’s taste was for a higher quality of goods than might be bought in the local bordello,’ said Alex. ‘He cultivated amours with classic French gallantry, all of which she swears were platonic and not of the sort you pay for.’
‘Of course she did. She would hardly blacken the reputation of either the comte or the comtesse,’ said Dora. ‘And was there a special friend in the picture at the time of their deaths?’
‘A new lady. Susannah hadn’t seen her but caught a glimpse of an emerald-green hooded cloak disappearing down the side passageway a few days before. I asked her if the mystery lady was there on the day itself, and she said she had no idea. Too much else was going on to be sure either way.’
‘Hmm,’ mused Dora. ‘Would the comte be so foolish as to fall for a French trap? Was he the kind to flutter to the flame of a lady only to be burned by the candle?’
‘Us men are, unfortunately, too often led by the little brain in our breeches than the one in our heads,’ said Alex, flicking a knowing look at Jacob.
‘Cut it out,’ growled Jacob, ‘Or it won’t just be your pay we’ll be docking.’
‘Sorry, sorry. I’m merely jealous that I don’t have my own Dora – well, not a Dora, obviously.’ Alex grinned, then sobered. ‘From your interest in Miss Petrovna, am I right in thinking she might be high on your list for the comte’s mystery woman?’
‘She is,’ said Dora, ‘but with Michel Percy back in the country we must also ask ourselves if he had a French agent, or someone in the pay of the French, who insinuated themselves into the household.’
‘I think it more likely to be someone from another nationality, or even a corruptible Englishwoman. The comte would have been on his guard if a lady from France suddenly claimed to have an attachment to him,’ said Jacob. ‘That would be far too obvious.’
‘I will be very interested to see if Percy turns up at the fête tonight,’ said Dora.
‘A Frenchman at a celebration of their defeat? Would he dare?’ asked Alex.
‘Oh, he would. It would be exactly the kind of trick he would pull from up his sleeve to prove how debonair he is.’