The Swordmaster's Mistress: Dangerous Deceptions Book Two(10)
He crouched and lifted the rug to his nose, sniffed and dropped it again as he stood up. Behind him the door opened and he turned slowly, recognising the laboured breathing of his employer, still out of wind from the recent alarm.
‘My lord, these incidents have occurred both here in London and at one of your country estates?’
‘Yes. Come back to my study. I feel the need for my comfortable chair and a glass of brandy.’ The Viscount led the way and sat down stiffly, looking all of his years. ‘My wife has gone to her chamber to lie down. Her maid is with her. The decanters are over there.’ He flapped a hand in the general direction and closed his eyes.
‘Which attack happened where?’ Jared asked when they were settled either side of the desk, brandy glowing warmly in the glasses in front of them.
‘We were at Allerton Grange, the house I bought at the funeral I told you about. It was mid-March but the weather was exceedingly fine and I thought it was time we stayed there for a while, decided what needed doing to it. The order was the handrail, the adder and the horse. Naturally I brought my wife back here – I assumed there was some local lunatic at large. Then there was the shot in Hyde Park and now this.’
Allerton. That rang faint bells… He put the thought aside as unimportant for now. ‘How far up the stairs was the rail sawn through?’
‘About seven steps from the bottom.’
‘And it is a circular stair? Carpeted?’
‘Yes, to both. I had the carpet put down when Guinevere took a liking to the tower room.’
‘Lady Northam is a good rider?’
‘Very.’ The older man seemed to rouse himself at the question. He sat up straighter and smiled proudly. ‘A cracking little rider. Light hands and nerves of steel.’
‘And the shot in the Park?’
‘That was a miraculous escape. She had pulled the check string for the driver to halt so she could get down to look at one of the new plantations and seconds after she stepped down the bullet hit the back of the seat just where she had been sitting.’
There was a tap at the door and Twite entered. ‘Excuse me, my lord, but Hoskins the footman has recommended his brothers as additional guards. There are four of them, I understand, all strapping young men employed on a casual basis as porters at Covent Garden market. He thought they would supplement our forces here. Hoskins has been with us several years and has always proved very satisfactory, I feel we could trust others from his family if you approve.’
The Viscount looked at Jared. ‘Have Mr Hunt interview them when they arrive. Well?’ he demanded as the door closed behind the butler. ‘What are you looking so quizzical about, Hunt?’
‘An impression, merely. Something that may not be of any consequence, but I must think on it.’ If he was right then something very strange indeed was going on here, something even more mystifying than attempted murder.
Chapter Four
Just what were they dealing with here? Jared probed again. ‘Has Lady Northam suffered from any illnesses, anything that might have left her with a weak heart?’
‘Not so far as I am aware. She is perfectly healthy. Did her reaction today seem like that of a woman with a weak heart?’
‘No, not at all.’ She felt like a healthy young woman in every respect. Her heart was thudding under mine with great regularity, the pulse in her throat… ‘Lady Northam appears to be standing up to the strain very well. Do you require me further today once I have interviewed this footman’s family battalion of guards?’
‘I suppose not. My wife had intended going out this evening, some reception or another, but I will see to it that she rests instead. I’ll tell her I am feeling shaky, that will keep her in. You will return tomorrow, Hunt?’
‘Certainly, my lord. I will be here after breakfast.’
Jared checked with the gamekeepers again and exchanged one of the other footman for the one on the roof. ‘What is your name?’ he asked as the man turned to the stairs.
‘Thomas, sir.’ He seemed somewhat agitated.
‘There is no need to be afraid. It was only a firework, you know.’
‘Aye, sir. I’m all reet…right, sir. I haven’t been in London long, I’m used to country life. Didn’t expect it to be like this, and that’s the truth.’
‘It rarely is,’ Jared assured him.
He spoke to the Hoskins brothers as they arrived at the kitchen door an hour later, breathless from a rush across London. Twite had worked out a rota of guard duties and rest times that seemed eminently sensible once Jared had adjusted it so that no two Hoskins brothers were on duty together. They looked reliable enough, but this entire situation was a confusing mess and he was not prepared to trust anyone.
The workmen were packing up when he finally arrived back at Great Ryder Street. Jared walked round with the foreman, approved the work and discussed priorities for the next day, then went upstairs, unlocked the door and checked the rooms. No-one had been in there, none of the tell-tales he had set as a matter of routine had been disturbed.
There was no reason to expect trouble, not here, but he had no idea what hornets’ nest Lord Northam was asking him to poke a stick into. The attacks seemed motiveless and Guinevere was standing up to them well. Too well?
Jared reminded himself that she was Lady Northam to him and went into the pocket-sized kitchen to contemplate what might make his dinner. Two eggs, a lump of streaky bacon, the heel of a loaf and half an apple pie from the bakery around the corner. It would do, when and if he worked up an appetite for it.