“Possibly,” Colin said. “But not necessarily.”
“Would he have been so angry that he’d actually kill the sister he loved? And in such violent fashion?” I frowned.
“He’s the only one in the family who kept visiting her,” Colin said. “He might have felt doubly betrayed—first that she took a lover, second, that she lied to him about the baby.”
“Did he not see her during her confinement?” Mrs. Hargreaves asked. “Surely even an ignorant man would take note of her condition.”
“It wouldn’t have been too difficult to hide,” Colin said. “She was in bed, and could have had a mountain of blankets over her. Laurent might have never noticed.”
“Which would have angered him all the more once he realized the doctor’s real game,” I said. “The note in Dr. Girard’s pocket is in Laurent’s handwriting. That’s solid evidence.”
“It may be in his handwriting,” Colin said.
“Yes,” I said. “But I’d stake my life on it. The police will confirm it.”
“We need more proof than just the note,” Colin said. “Even if Laurent did write it, someone else could have slipped it in the doctor’s pocket.”
“There’s also Vasseur,” I said. “We must find him.”
“I’ve persuaded the office of the Foreign Legion to give me the two addresses he’d given them,” Colin said. “But my subsequent inquiries turned up nothing, so it’s time for a personal visit.”
“Why don’t we go there tomorrow?” I asked.
“That won’t be necessary. You stay here and deal with Sebastian. We do have a bet, you know.”
“A murder is more significant,” I said.
“I’m not trying to give you useless tasks,” he said. “You know me better than to think that. I’m convinced your old friend has more of a connection to all this than we’ve figured out so far. He took Monet’s painting to and from the Markhams’—good fun for Sebastian, but I’m beginning to suspect he wasn’t in the neighborhood simply to follow you.”
“I wonder—” I stopped. I didn’t want to say more out loud. I wondered if Sebastian had Lucy. I wondered if he were Jules Vasseur. “How long do you think you can pacify me in this way?”
“Undoubtedly not long enough,” he said. The teasing rhythm of his words combined with the warm intensity in his eyes tugged at me deep inside. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him, to feel his arms around me, to hear him murmur soft words against my neck.
“I shouldn’t be gone more than a few days,” he continued.
“Perhaps when you come home you can buy me a pony if I’ve been a good girl,” I said, teasing him back.
“Don’t forget, Emily, I know you’re intellectually at least as capable as I am. I’m protecting you from nothing but physical weakness.”
His mother coughed. “‘It is tedious to tell again tales already plainly told,’” she read. “Simple sentence. Obvious truth. I’m glad you’ve brought me back to Homer, Emily.”
“So I’m to contact Sebastian?” I asked Colin after we’d retired to our room and he was helping me undo the long row of tiny buttons down the back of my dress, slipping them through their silk loops.
“I’m confident you’ll find him easily enough.” He kissed the back of my neck. “Buy something you think he’d like to steal.”
“It won’t be that difficult. I had the foresight to set up a method of contacting him,” I said, and explained to him how he’d given me his cravat to hang from the window. “It almost seems a pity, though. Tricking him into stealing something would have been much more fun. I could have had a day or two in Paris, shopping for just the right priceless item, irresistible to our favorite thief. You do realize if I did such a thing he would be eternally indebted to me. And that I would then call in the favor and have him join forces with the Crown—and you’d lose our bet.”
“A risk that would be worth taking,” he said. “Fortunately, however, your foresight has protected me from having to do so. But no more of this right now. If I’m to be away from you for days, my darling wife, I don’t want to spend our last hours together discussing the multitudinous charms of Sebastian Capet.”
“You don’t?” I asked. He was loosening my corset now. “Whatever else did you have in mind?”
“I thought perhaps we could play chess,” he said.
“What a pity there are no pieces in our room.” Free from my stays, I turned to face him and traced his lips with my finger. “And no board. You’ll have to find another way to amuse yourself.”
“Have you any suggestions?”
“None that do me credit,” I said.
“My favorite kind.” He pulled pins from my hair until it hung down my back. I kissed him.
“You’re a corrupting influence,” I said.
“Would you want any other sort of husband?”
And then, in an instant, every confused and conflicted complicated feeling I’d had for him over the past days vanished. I loved him, even when he wanted to protect me. Even when protection meant curbing my freedom. It wasn’t society or some set of arbitrary rules that drove him to hold me back—it was pure and simple love. Tenderness and care. A desire to not lose me before he had to. I melted into his arms and let him carry me to our bed.
It was perfect. Except for the tiniest, darkest part of my soul that was crying out, wishing I could protect him, too.
27
Rain started to fall at half eleven, so I bundled into a thick cloak and slipped into my sturdiest shoes before going to meet Sebastian at midnight. Before he’d left, I’d told Colin what I planned to do—I wasn’t about to hide anything from him—and now I made my way quietly though the house, stopping twice when I thought I heard footsteps, then starting again towards the door, opening it silently, and breathing a sigh of relief when I felt the sweet, wet air outside. I pulled up my hood in what, given the force with which the water was hitting the ground, was doomed to be a vain effort. A cloudy sky meant no moon, so I stepped carefully into the dark, not so much because I worried I would fall on the slick pavement in front of the house, but because everything around me made me want to jump.
The cool raindrops turned steamy as they hit the ground, releasing a disheartening mist to meander through the trees on the estate. Thunder rolled in the distance, and the only relief from the black night came from intermittent flashes of lightning. I’d considered bringing a lamp, but didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. The sound of the storm and its accompanying wind made it difficult to listen for footsteps, and this put my nerves further on edge. I knew Sebastian would come. But I should have liked to be able to listen for any further—and unwelcome—additions to our party.
I remembered times when I’d been afraid in London, when I feared the man who’d murdered my first husband might try to attack me next. As frightening as a city could be, with its narrow streets and darting shadows, the country scared me more. In town, a person was never truly alone. There were always servants or cab drivers or pedestrians on the street within shouting distance. Here, however, if I ventured far from the house, no one would hear me should I cry for help. Just as no one had heard Edith Prier’s screams when her murderer attacked her.
Which was why I had no intention of taking a single step beyond Mrs. Hargreaves’s gate. But even that felt too far from the warm comfort of her sprawling house. I shivered, wet from the downpour that only grew harder the longer I waited for Sebastian. Clinging to the iron railing posts in an attempt to stop my hands from shaking, I watched for my friend on the road, periodically turning around in case he was approaching me from behind, as he had previously.
“Kallista!” His whisper was harsh, and came from behind a tree a few paces from me. “Come here, quickly.”
Without hesitating, I obeyed.
“Someone followed me here,” he said. “We need to get you back inside.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’m afraid I may need to join you. Could your mother-in-law spare a room for me?”
This was hardly a question I wanted to pose to Mrs. Hargreaves so soon after relations between us had begun to thaw, but I saw no other option. “How did you get into the grounds?” I asked.
“Over the west wall,” he said. “I heard someone drop behind me less than a minute later.”
My heart was pounding. The house felt a million miles away. “Will we be safe inside? Or will he pursue us there?”
“I’ve not the slightest idea—but it can’t be more dangerous inside than out.”
I looked around as thoroughly as I could, watching for any signs of unusual movement, and strained my ears to hear beyond the rain. Satisfied there was no visible danger—the best I could manage—I grabbed Sebastian by the hand and ran as fast as I could to the front door. We flew through it, slamming into my mother-in-law, who was standing on the other side.
“There is, I assume, a reasonable explanation?” she asked, looking Sebastian up and down.
He gave his most elegant bow, even as water trickled off the top hat he’d removed the instant he saw her. “I am delighted to see you again,” he said. “It’s far too long that I’ve been deprived of your excellent company.”
“You waste your time trying to charm me,” she said. Quickly assessing the situation as I told her what had happened, she pulled a heavily embroidered bell cord. “You, Emily, need to get into dry clothes at once. You, Mr. Capet, must do the same. Stay here, I don’t need you dripping everywhere.”
A footman, disheveled, his white wig not quite straight, appeared, out of breath, undoubtedly from running up the stairs. “Madame?”
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