"I've no idea. You will let me know if there is anything of significance in them?"

"Of course," I replied, and as my thoughts began to wander, I decided it was time to return home. Surely Charles Berry was not the thief. He could never pull off such a sophisticated series of crimes. Nor, however, could he afford to hire someone to do it for him. So why did he have the list I'd found in his room? And what had Mr. Francis wanted him to stop doing? Jane may have had reason to want both her husband and her employer dead, but a nagging instinct told me that Mr. Berry may have benefited from at least one of the murders, too. I was still contemplating these questions when, back at Berkeley Square, my driver, rather than one of the footmen, opened the carriage door.

"I thought you should know, Lady Ashton," he said, helping me down from my seat. "A coach followed us all the way from Richmond. It bore no markings and disappeared soon after we entered London. I did not get a good look at the driver. With the house having been broken into, we're all of us a mite worried about you."

9

Jeremy and Margaret dined with Cécile and me the following night. I had hoped Colin might join us, but he was once again playing chaperon to Charles Berry. Cécile missed him as much as I did. "Such a terrible shame that he must waste his time with that man. I like you very well, Bainbridge, but Monsieur Hargreaves..." She sighed.

"Say no more, Madame du Lac. I've yet to meet a lady immune to Hargreaves. He's too bloody handsome."

"I wish he were around more so that the gossips would have less to say about you and my darling Jeremy," Margaret said. "Do you know that Lady Elliott asked me if I minded that she was going to invite you to her ball? She was afraid that if I didn't come, Jeremy's mother might not, and confided that she didn't want to do anything to draw the dowager duchess's ire."

"Mother adores Emily," Jeremy said. "Lady Elliott is wasting her time if she's trying to stir up controversy between them. Besides — and I know you will take no offense at this, Margaret, darling — she would die before seeing me marry an American. She's never forgiven the colonists for leaving the empire."

"Ah!" Margaret cried. "Perfect! That is what will end our affair. I'm devastated already." She and Cécile stayed only another quarter of an hour before leaving for a ball. The fourth ball, I might point out, to which I had not been invited. Jeremy remained with me, something that did nothing but provide more fodder for London's gossiping matrons. At the time, however, I did not care, my feelings for society and its rigid rules being ambiguous at best.

"I cannot face another dance," Jeremy said, slouching in one of my library's most comfortable chairs. "Ballrooms are always too hot, and there are never enough seats. A chap can only stand so much dancing in a Season. I've already surpassed my limits."

"I shall consider the Season a success only if I can persuade Mr. Bingham to part with his silver phiale."

"Are you still pursuing that?"

"I've offered him an obscene amount of money for it and can't imagine that he'll refuse me this time."

"That depends on the state of his own fortune. If he's flush, he won't need the money and is likely to deny you out of spite."

"I'm afraid you're right," I said. "I should have begun the whole process differently. He's not the sort of man to respond to a willful lady. It would have been better for me to get an invitation to view his collection and then simper stupidly over the bowl. He probably would have given it to me on the spot."

Jeremy laughed. "You must be sure to keep at least some conventional behavior in your arsenal, Em. Ladies have more power than you might imagine."

"I suppose you're right." I sunk deeper into my chair. "You and Margaret are getting along famously. Your false courtship was a stroke of brilliance on her part. At the park the other day, I overheard two ladies, who shall remain nameless, lamenting the loss of one of Britain's most eligible peers."

"It's like a dream," he said, grinning. "But I'm afraid that the mothers of London will not leave me completely alone until I'm actually engaged."

"Poor man."

"It's a terrible bore."

"At least your position ensures that you'll be able to choose whatever wife you want."

"Does it?" He looked at me quizzically. "You turned me down easily enough."

"We both know that you only proposed to me because you were safe in the knowledge that I would refuse you."

"Point taken. But think on it, Emily. If we were married, we could agree to continue living as if we were single and everyone would leave us alone."

"I don't know that I'd like a husband who behaved as if he were a bachelor."

"You would if he were discreet, made no demands of you, and let you have your freedom."

"He would have to make some demands."

"Well, yes, but that needn't be unpleasant."

"Really, Jeremy! You are shocking!"

"So long as I amuse you."

"You've always done that. I'm beginning to think you should propose to Margaret. She'd appreciate your scheme."

Davis opened the door. "Mr. Berry is here to see you, Lady Ashton."

"Berry?" Jeremy was all amazement. "Emily, I'd no idea that you received gentleman callers this late in the evening."

"I can't imagine what he wants," I said. "Send him in, Davis, and bring us some port. His Grace is in desperate need of fortification."

"Perhaps the '51, then? That, I should think, would improve any gentleman's situation."

"Perfect. Whatever would I do without you, Davis?" When he returned a while later, I noted with some amusement that Mr. Berry had not passed muster with my butler, who, while he collected the port, had left the gentleman waiting in the hallway. Mr. Berry appeared agitated, his face flushed, and he did nothing to hide his surprise at finding me alone with Jeremy.

"Well," he said, a bit unsteady on his feet. "This is quite unusual, isn't it? Cozy evening at home with the duke?"

Jeremy stood. "You're intoxicated, sir."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Why are you here, Mr. Berry?" I asked.

"I need to speak with you privately, Lady Ashton," Berry said.

"I'm not about to ask the duke to leave," I said. I eyed the decanter Davis had left on a table but decided it would be best not to pour any port. Mr. Berry needed no more to drink.

"I shouldn't think you'd want him to hear the sordid details of our private affairs."

"Forgive me, Mr. Berry, I was not aware that we have any private affairs."

Jeremy stepped closer to the other man. "Look here, Berry — "

"I didn't think you were vicious. Have I not offered you a position in my court? Looked on you with favor and made you the envy of half the girls in London? Surely you could not have expected that I would make you my queen. You're a widow, Lady Ashton."

"What on earth can you mean by all this?" I asked.

"Why are you trying to destroy me?"

"Destroy you?" My mind was racing.

"Have you any idea the difficulties I face? I suppose you're filled with jealousy for Isabelle and want her denied the things you could never have. Foolish woman! As if being mistress to a king isn't good enough for you."

"I'll not have you talk to her like that," Jeremy said.

"Mr. Berry," I said, keeping my voice calm. "Let me assure you that I have never entertained the idea of becoming your mistress."

"I know you've been to Richmond, and I know what you're doing. You are trying to keep me from my throne."

"I'm sorry to be unpleasant, but do try to remember, Mr. Berry, that there is no throne in France," I said.

"Stay out of my business, Lady Ashton, or you will live to regret it."

"That's quite enough," I said. "Your Grace, would you please escort Mr. Berry out?"

"What's going on here, Emily?" Jeremy asked when he returned. He poured two glasses of port and pressed one into my shaking hand.

"Charles Berry can't believe there is a woman in London not desperate for his attention." I forced a smile, not wanting to tell Jeremy about my involvement in the Francis investigation.

"And my darling Emily won't be satisfied as the next Madame de Pompadour. Devastating for Berry, of course, but hardly a threat to his position in general."

"I'd no idea I was so powerful politically. Perhaps I should turn my attention to Lord Fortescue next."

"I'd love to see you spar with him," Jeremy said, sipping his port. I hardly heard him speak, my thoughts remaining focused on more serious subjects. Was it Berry who had followed me from Richmond? My guest soon realized that I was hopelessly distracted and took his leave from me. Almost as soon as he was gone, Davis entered the library with an envelope.

"The duke noticed this on the doorstep when he left, madam," he said. I recognized the handwriting at once.

I did not reply but leapt from my seat, thrust my half-empty glass at the butler, and ran out the front door, calling for Jeremy, thinking he might still be in the vicinity. There was no reply. I would have to wait to ask him if he had seen anything else suspicious. I went back to the house, where I turned my attention to the note:



It took me only a few moments with my lexicon to translate the passage: And what is Reason to Love? Light up, quick! — And where is thy old study of philosophy? — Away with the long toil of wisdom; this one thing only I know, that Love took captive even the mind of Zeus.