Excitement and fear coursed through me. Wanting to operate with extreme caution, we made our way back to the pavement to discuss our options.

“We need a plan,” I said. “I think she’s in there.”

“I agree,” he said. “I think I can—” He stopped talking and lunged towards me. Before he reached me, I felt a sharp blow, and everything went black.

29

I tasted dirt when I woke up. Taking a deep gulp of damp, mossy air, I struggled to my feet. My head ached, and I leaned against a tree for a moment, trying to get my bearings. It appeared I was still in the park, but I could no longer see the lodge in which I suspected Lady Glover was being held. There was enough moonlight that I could make out vague shapes around me, and in the not-too-far-off distance I saw the flicker of what had to be gaslight. I walked towards it and found myself only a few paces from the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens. Not finding much to recommend spending any more time in the park than absolutely necessary, I moved quickly in the direction of Kensington Palace.

Jeremy was nowhere to be found. I worried he’d suffered a fate similar to mine, but knew there was little I could do to locate him on my own in the dark. As soon as the lights of the palace came into view, I started shouting, hoping someone inside would hear me.

Unfortunately, as the structure had fallen far from its days of splendor, and was now used primarily as a place the royal family could stick inconvenient and distant relatives, there were no guards on hand to assist me. The gates were locked. I shook them and yelled for help to no avail. Not wanting to stop moving until I felt safe, I ran out of the park and into Palace Green, almost tripping up the steps of Lady Carlisle’s house.

I don’t know when I’ve ever better appreciated the comforting warmth of a family home.

Lady Carlisle fussed over me unmercifully, and I welcomed her ministrations. She plied me with tea, then sherry, and wiped the dirt from my face and hands herself with a soft linen cloth. Her husband notified the police and sent a message to Park Lane at once. Colin must be beside himself with worry. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning.

I reclined on the chaise longue and closed my eyes to ward off the throbbing in my head. The sound of Lord Carlisle conversing with someone brought me alert again. Jeremy was standing next to me, along with two inspectors from Scotland Yard.

“Thank heavens you’re all right,” he said.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I started for the thug who was coming for you. Didn’t make it two steps before someone whacked me on the back of the head, too.”

“Lady Glover?”

“We’ve been back to the lodge, madam,” one of the inspectors said. “She’s not there. We’ll conduct a more thorough search in the morning.”

“I’m sure she was there,” I said. “You must believe me.”

“Did you see her?” he asked.

“No, just a glimpse of fabric. But I’m certain—”

“Don’t try to exert yourself, Lady Emily,” Lord Carlisle said. “Your butler sent a message saying your husband is not at home. Would you like to stay here tonight?”

“He’s not?” I asked, confused and wondering where he could be at this time of night.

“No. I’m afraid we don’t have any further information.”

“I see,” I said. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I think it best I go home. He’ll be worried if he returns and finds me gone.”

“I do wish you’d let me send for a doctor,” Lady Carlisle said.

“You’re very kind,” I said. “But I’m perfectly all right. No permanent damage done, just a little bump. I’ve had much worse. I would, however, be eternally grateful if you’d lend me your carriage.”

They were reluctant to let me go, but in the end were persuaded to agree that Jeremy could see me home.

“I’m no longer so convinced about the merits of excitement,” he said. “When I woke up and couldn’t find you I thought bringing the police was the best thing to do.”

“You were right,” I said.

“I do wish they’d been able to find Lady Glover,” he said. “It looks like what we saw were some vagrants who had thought they’d find a good place to seek temporary shelter.”

“Vagrants don’t wear turquoise silk with gold beads,” I said.

“Well.” He paused. “Vagrants may not, but there are certain women of ill repute who could have access to such garments.”

“Hmpf.” I wasn’t convinced. “They should be taking what we saw much more seriously after what happened to Cordelia. If this man has moved Lady Glover to another location, he’s more likely to have decided to kill her. This is the time to follow up on every lead as thoroughly as possible.” We’d reached my house. Jeremy offered to come in and sit with me, but I declined. Instead, I went inside alone, then sank down, sitting on the steps in the entrance hall as Davis closed the door behind him.

“Where is Mr. Hargreaves, Davis?” I asked.

“He hasn’t returned to the house tonight since he left with Mrs. Brandon, madam,” he said.

“And he’s sent no word?”

“No, madam. I’m sorry.”

With a sigh, I retired to bed.

*   *   *

I hardly slept that night. Colin slipped into the room as the sun was beginning to rise. He was quiet, assuming, I’m sure, that I was asleep, but I sat up the instant he opened the door.

“Sorry to disturb,” he said. “Are you all right? Davis said—”

“Davis shouldn’t even be awake,” I said. “Where have you been?”

“With Foster. Tell me what happened.”

“I want to hear from you first,” I said.

“I’ll humor you, but only because Davis has already assured me your health is fine,” he said. “Foster doesn’t have any idea of what’s going on in that factory.”

“You can’t believe that,” I said.

“I do. I approached him from every considerable angle, and he didn’t squirm at all. He’s got no clue there’s anything untoward that could come out about him.”

“Did you tell him what we saw there?”

He hesitated, only for a single breath. “No. I thought it best not to yet.”

“Why?” I asked. My head was spinning, and not because I’d been whacked on it. I couldn’t believe for a second they hadn’t talked about it. “He owns the place from whence our attackers came. How can you trust him?”

“We’ll discuss it later,” he said. “I’m worried about you. Tell me everything.”

I did, but with little enthusiasm. I wanted to know what he was hiding from me.

“You’re confident it was Lady Glover in the lodge?” he asked.

“I can’t prove it,” I said. “But the place must be searched as soon as possible.”

“I’ve no doubt Scotland Yard have the matter well in hand. I’ll check in with them as soon as I’ve changed my clothes.”

He rang for his valet and stepped into the dressing room. I followed him.

“You should stay in bed,” he said.

“There’s no need. I feel perfectly fine. My head doesn’t even hurt anymore.” This was true. Doubt in one’s spouse apparently had miraculous healing powers. “I want to hear more about what Mr. Foster had to say.”

“There’s nothing else to tell, Emily. It was a thoroughly underwhelming conversation.”

“Then why did you stay so long?” I asked.

“He pulled out an exceptional whisky and we got to trading stories about school.”

I looked at him through narrowed eyes. “How foolish do you think I am?”

“Not foolish in the least.”

“You’re on notice, Colin Hargreaves,” I said. “I know you’re hiding something from me, and I don’t like it one bit.”

“You know perfectly well I can’t tell you everything,” he said. “Don’t be cross. I will give you one thing. Mr. Stanbury, whose house was splashed with red paint some time ago, owns a significant interest in the match factory.”

“Have you spoken to him about it?”

“I will today.”

I rang for Meg and asked her to bring me breakfast. I wanted to be at the British Museum the moment it opened, and didn’t have time to dillydally. With Colin remaining adamant about keeping the details of his chat with Mr. Foster private, I half wished I had something to bash him on the head with. I had a strong suspicion what he was hiding from me had nothing to do with Crown secrets. From what I had overheard, it had everything to do with two men planning something underhanded.

“You’re going to let Mr. Foster hide his role in this, aren’t you?” I asked as I prepared to leave for the museum. “Because you agree with his political views? Maybe let Mr. Stanbury take the fall?”

“I told you, Emily, I’m not discussing it.”

“Fine,” I said. “I will respect that, though I don’t like it at all. But you need to tell me how all this fits into the case we are currently investigating. Is he involved?”

“It’s highly unlikely.”

“Really?” I asked. “So did he murder Mr. Dillman—or have someone murder Mr. Dillman—to keep the evidence out of the public eye? And the red paint was just a coincidence?”

“You’re following a very dangerous line of speculation,” he said. “This situation is more complicated than it appears at first glance. I’m not convinced Mr. Foster knows anything about the factory. For now, we’ll have to leave it at that.”

“He owns it,” I said. “How can you believe he knows nothing about it? I don’t, not for a minute. And until you tell me something that points me definitively in another direction, I’m going to pursue every possibility. Including this one.”

When I reached the museum, Mr. May, to whom I’d sent a note almost as soon as I’d woke up, was already waiting for me. We went to his office, where I unwrapped the bottle for him. He took it from me, handling it gingerly. “I’ve not seen anything quite like it,” he said. “It’s primitive and contemporary at the same time.”