A Body in Berkeley Square

Chapter Fifteen

Mrs. Harper lifted her head. "And if I tell you I have no idea where the bloody letter is, will you believe me?"

"I will, actually."

She looked surprised then skeptical. "You will? Why?"

"Because I know Colonel Brandon better than you do."

She stared at me a moment then sagged back into her chair. "Oh, what does it matter? No, Captain, I do not have the letter. I begged and begged Aloysius to give it to me, but he would not."

"But you do have the draft for the five hundred guineas that Brandon gave Mr. Turner, do you not?"

"Yes, I found it in the pocket of Mr. Turner's coat. I took it and put it into my reticule."

"You searched his dead body for it. I admire your coolness."

"I was anything but cool! Believe me, Captain, when I screamed, I did so from the heart. Mr. Turner was still warm when I searched his pockets. It was ghastly. But I knew I had to take the money away before someone else found it. When I saw that I'd gotten his blood on my glove, it sent me into a horrified panic. I do not know much of what happened after that."

"Grenville sat you down and gave you brandy. He also took your glove away."

"Yes, he did." Mrs. Harper drew a long breath. "When I could no longer see the blood, I calmed somewhat. Even so, my maids had to take me home. It was awful."

"You made the Bow Street magistrate feel sorry for you. He did not want to summon you there for questioning."

"No." Her lips thinned. "Sir Nathaniel came here, instead."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That I'd danced and talked and done things one does at a ball. Yes, I stepped away with Colonel Brandon to speak to him privately, and why should I not? I went to the anteroom later to snatch a quiet moment and found Mr. Turner."

"This is the story you told the magistrates?"

"Yes."

I took a sip of tea, which was weak and too sweet. "You and Colonel Brandon tell slightly different stories. He admitted to Sir Nathaniel that he spent most of his time with you and that you were upset by Mr. Turner's insolence more than once. So much so that Brandon had to stalk out of the ballroom to find you a glass of sherry at the moment Turner was being murdered."

She flushed. "I never wanted to find Mr. Turner dead in the anteroom. My sole purpose in attending the ball was to obtain the letter and destroy it."

"So his death and Brandon's arrest inconvenience you greatly."

"Inconvenience?" Mrs. Harper sprang to her feet. "It has been hell, Captain Lacey. I do not know where the letter is. Colonel Brandon might be hanged for murder. Now you tell me that Colonel Naveau has come from France to ruin us all."

I came to my feet with her. "How can he ruin you? What is this letter?"

She stopped, her eyes steady. "What do you believe it is?"

"I first thought it a love letter between you and Brandon, but I only assumed that. You never corrected me, and neither did he. I have since learned that it is a document that Colonel Naveau very much wants returned. You and Brandon have each told me that the pair of you had an affair, but is that true?"

Mrs. Harper nodded. "We did. At Vitoria, just after my husband's death."

"You were grieving," I said, "and alone, and he was helpful."

"I was not simply grieving. I was devastated. I loved my husband desperately. I was so angry that he'd been taken from me, and I was also in a good deal of trouble. Colonel Brandon was there. He was strong and helped me, and he was… I cannot explain what he was to me. I should not have surrendered to him; I felt the betrayal of my husband, but I could not help myself. I admired Aloysius, and I was so grateful."

She broke off. But I understood. Brandon could be a compelling leader when he chose. He needed followers and needed to be admired, and Aloysius Brandon had the confidence and the strength to make men follow him. I had felt the same pull when I'd first met him, the compulsion to do anything for him.

"Why were you in a great deal of trouble?" I asked.

"Because of my husband, Major Harper. He'd done a terrible thing. And I was afraid, so afraid that he'd be disgraced, even in death, stripped of his rank, branded a traitor. And I would be branded a traitor's wife. I did not understand the horror until I went through my husband's things in preparation to return to England. I did not know where to turn. Brandon, unbelievably, said he'd help me."

"I am supposing that your husband had dealings with this Colonel Naveau?"

The look she sent me was filled with appeal. Though she did not have the beauty of Lady Breckenridge or Louisa, I was touched by the need in her eyes.

"Mrs. Harper," I said. "My purpose today is to prove that Colonel Brandon did not murder Henry Turner. I am not here to condemn your husband for what he might have done in the past, or you for helping him. The war is over. What happened then no longer matters to me."

"It ought to matter," she said savagely. "What my husband did could have cost lives, the lives of your men. Perhaps your own life, if you'd been unlucky."

"Naveau was an exploring officer," I said. "Did your husband pass him information?"

"That is what I discovered when I went through his things. My husband had been taking money from Colonel Naveau in exchange for dispatches."

I let out a breath. Spying could be a lucrative game but a deadly one. If her husband had been caught sending information to the French, he would have been tried for treason. Shot at best, drawn and quartered at worst. Major Harper had been fortunate to die in battle.

I did not tell the entire truth when I said I no longer cared what had happened on the Peninsula. Men who sold secrets were the worst of humanity. A dispatch sent to the enemy could destroy battle plans and slaughter thousands of soldiers, for nothing.

"What did you do?" I asked quietly.

"I destroyed all his papers." Mrs. Harper quirked a brow at me. "What would you have me do, Captain, run at once to his colonel and confess that he'd been selling secrets to the French? My first loyalty was to my husband, who had been good to me. I destroyed every last scrap of evidence that he'd done anything wrong. But then, only a few days after my husband's death, Colonel Naveau sent a message. It was sheerest good luck that I found it before my husband's batman did. The message was odd, but I understood that Naveau was waiting for something. I did not know what to do. So I confessed to Aloysius and swore him to secrecy."

"And he agreed?" I was baffled. Brandon was a stickler for proper behavior in a soldier, in an officer, in a gentleman.

"Aloysius agreed to say nothing. My husband was dead-he'd died honorably, saving other men. And Aloysius did not want dishonor or punishment to fall on me. He suggested we send a message to Colonel Naveau explaining that Major Harper was dead and to leave me alone."

Bloody hell. "That was unwise and not even necessary. Naveau was a professional exploring officer. If he received no more word from your husband, he would conclude that his source had dried up, and he'd turn elsewhere. Likely he would have heard of your husband's death on his own, in time."

"But Naveau's message frightened me. He did not know when he wrote it that my husband was dead. He was angry and threatened to reveal to Wellington what my husband had been doing. Colonel Brandon wrote a letter to Naveau, in French, and somehow got it delivered to him; I have no idea how he managed it. As a peace offering, he included a dispatch that Naveau had been asking for."

"Good God."

"Yes, he risked much for me."

I had been angry at Aloysius Brandon in the past, but my rage rose to new heights today. "He did risk much. He risked ignominious death and ruin for himself and his family. And for what? Your pretty eyes? Did he ask you to elope with him?"

Mrs. Harper looked perplexed. "He asked me to marry him, yes. How did you know?"

"Because I was at the other end of the matter. Did you know that he planned to leave his wife for you? You must be a remarkable woman to lure him from Louisa Brandon, who I assure you is quite remarkable herself."

She flushed a dull red. "I refused him. He was very excited after we'd delivered the message and begged me to marry him once he obtained the annulment of his marriage. But I could not. I'd loved my husband dearly. I did not want to rush to another man as though my husband had meant nothing to me. So I turned Aloysius away."

"Yet you admit that you had an affair with him," I said.

"A very brief one. I was afraid and alone, as you said, and needed comfort. Then I told him to go."

Which he'd done. Brandon had returned to his wife to discover that Louisa had run to me in her distress. He'd been furious and would not believe that she and I had not had a liaison. But if Brandon had been indulging himself in another woman's bed, small wonder he'd instantly believed I'd indulged his wife in mine.

"And you returned to England?" I asked.

"To Scotland, actually. My sister had married a man from Edinburgh, and they invited me to live in their house. She has two small children, and they welcomed me as part of the family. It was a peaceful existence."

"Until this spring?"

Mrs. Harper moved back to a chair and sank into it. "I received a letter from Henry Turner in February. He said he had the very letter that Aloysius had written to Colonel Naveau. How he came by it and how he found me, I do not know. Mr. Turner instructed me to come to London and to pay him the sum of five hundred guineas, or else he would take the letter to the Horse Guards and proclaim that my husband and I and Colonel Brandon had been traitors together."

Now I understood Brandon's outrage at Turner. I felt it myself.

She went on. "I hurried to London and wrote to Aloysius. I was petrified. And he…" Her eyes sparkled with anger. "At first Aloysius wanted nothing to do with me. He said bluntly that our affair was long ago, that he and his wife were happy, that I should cease to pester him. I was furious with him. He had as much to lose as I did."

"I read the letters you wrote back to him. You declared that both your names would be revealed. I took it to mean that your love affair would be made public."

"Aloysius finally agreed to help, though he was not best pleased about it. Turner wanted to meet us at the Gillises' ball, knowing that Colonel Brandon and his wife had been invited. So we made the appointment and brought him the money."

"And then Brandon made a mare's nest of it." I shook my head. "I do not know why anyone would suppose Colonel Brandon could do anything covert. He got himself talked about, upset his wife, and was arrested for murder."

To my surprise, Mrs. Harper smiled. "I do not think he anticipated being arrested for murder, Captain. As for Aloysius being ham-handed, the result was that people only talked of us having an indiscreet affair. They did not guess the worst of it. Even you did not."

She made a good point. "I admit that I was sorely misdirected."

Mrs. Harper studied her hands in her lap. "I regret hurting Mrs. Brandon. She does not deserve this."

"No, she does not." I resumed my seat. "Tell me exactly what happened at the ball. You might still believe that Colonel Brandon killed Turner to keep him quiet, but I do not. If he successfully obtained the letter from Turner, there was no need to murder him. Unless Turner had something more on you?"

Mrs. Harper shook her head. "There was nothing else. Just that letter. And Aloysius said he'd made the exchange."

"Tell me again what happened."

"I want so much to forget what happened, and everyone wants me to remember." She rubbed her forehead. "It is true that Aloysius called too much attention to me-to us. But I feared Mr. Turner, and I did not want Aloysius to leave my side. Aloysius was angry at Mr. Turner, but also at me. Mr. Turner did offer to dance with me several times, but I knew that he simply wanted to talk alone with me. Aloysius chased him away."

Lady Aline's version of events confirmed this. "The meeting was set for eleven o'clock? In the anteroom?"

"Eleven, yes. Aloysius told me that I was not to go, although I wanted to see the letter for myself. But he was adamant, and I obeyed. He and Turner went into the anteroom together. No one followed. Not five minutes later, Aloysius emerged, rather red in the face, and Mr. Turner came out behind him. Aloysius took me to an alcove and told me that the deed was done."

"Colonel Brandon provided the payment as well?"

"He insisted. I did not protest too much. While I am of comfortable means, I cannot part with five hundred guineas with impunity. Aloysius spoke of the sum as almost trivial."

"Brandon has a large income. When he spoke to you in the alcove, did he show you the paper?"

"He refused. He told me he had it, and I was not to worry."

"If it was in his handwriting, he'd be anxious to keep it," I reflected. "But Brandon did not have the letter when he was arrested. Do you have any idea what he did with it?"

"None. I was agitated, not surprisingly so. Aloysius told me that he would find me some sherry, and left me. I stayed in the alcove, trying to catch my breath. Then, when he was a long time coming, I decided to emerge. Others would wonder what I did there so long. I tried to behave normally and have a conversation with Lady Gillis, but I was too agitated. I decided to sit alone in the anteroom. But when I entered, I found Mr. Turner."

"Dead."

She shuddered. "I thought him merely foxed, and I was angry at him, celebrating at our expense. But he sat too still, and then I realized that he was not breathing."

"And you decided to search him for the bank draft."

"Yes."

"Why? To save Brandon a bit of blunt?"

"That was not all I thought. I did not think the draft should be found on a dead man. I did not want it to point to a connection between Mr. Turner and Aloysius."

"It was a good thought, but Brandon's behavior did that for him. Well, I am back to not knowing what became of the paper. Brandon is most reticent to tell me."

"He is ashamed."

I snorted a laugh. "He is afraid that I will use the knowledge against him. Well, Mrs. Harper, instead of clearing Brandon, I now have information that gives him still more of a motive. He killed Turner not to cover up an affair with you but to keep himself from being arrested for treason. Damn."

Mrs. Harper looked at me limply. "I am sorry."

"Brandon is an idiot, which is not your fault. He never should have written that letter."

"I know."

"The only way I can save him is to discover who truly did murder Turner. Did you see anything that can help me?"

She shook her head. "I was in the alcove. By the time I made my way to the anteroom, Turner was already dead."

"You said his body was warm, so he could not have been dead long. Are you certain you saw no one leave the room before you entered it?"

"I did not."

I imagined the small gilded room with its simple furnishing and scarlet walls. I remembered the opulent staircase hall and Basil Stokes complaining that one never saw the servants because they walked through back passages behind the walls.

Anyone who knew how to get into those passages could have slipped into the anteroom-if indeed, a door from the anteroom led to the passages. They need not have been seen in the ballroom at all. Brandon had been observed striding toward the back of the house, ostensibly in search of sherry.

Damn, and damn, and damn.

I rose to my feet. "Mrs. Harper, I thank you for being frank with me. I am going to find that blasted paper if I have to tear apart London to do it. And I will clear Brandon, too. Please, if you remember anything else, any small detail that might be helpful, send me word."

She promised to, but her face was wan, her eyes tired.

I left her with my card and my direction penned on it. Mrs. Harper said goodbye, her eyes quiet in defeat.

I knew she believed that if I had to betray her to save Brandon, I would. And, I thought as I left the house for the spring fog, she might not be wrong.

Lady Breckenridge had sent me a note via a servant that morning, telling me she'd procured an appointment for me with Lady Gillis. She'd instructed me to call at the South Audley Street house at three o'clock.

I had just enough time now to journey from Portman Square to South Audley Street, and I arrived on Lady Breckenridge's doorstep at three o'clock precisely.

Lady Breckenridge greeted me in a swirl of silk and cashmere and pressed a cool kiss to my cheek. "You are amazingly punctual, Gabriel. Shall we go?"

I was pleased-first, that she had done this favor for me, and second, that she felt comfortable enough with me for a kiss as greeting, without awkwardness. I was pleased, too, to sit next to her in her carriage, and have her shoulder brush my arm with the carriage's movement.

I suddenly was sorry that Lord Breckenridge was dead, because I longed to shoot the man myself. I had, however, thoroughly bruised his face in an impromptu boxing match, and that would have to satisfy me.

Lady Breckenridge's small hand lay loosely in her lap, and I reached down and closed it in mine. "You told me once that I resembled the late Lord Breckenridge," I said.

She gave me a startled look. "You and he had a similar build, true. And hair the same color. But you are a completely different man, thank God."

"I share the sentiment. I promise you, Donata, that I will never subject you to the humiliations he did. Ever."

Lady Breckenridge gave me a half-smile. "I know. You have too much damned honor."

"Not only honor," I corrected her. "Affection."

She stared at me. I do not know whom I surprised more with the word, Lady Breckenridge or myself. She looked at me for a long moment, then she laid her head on my shoulder and kept it there for the rest of our short journey.

The carriage stopped before the entrance to the Gillises' home in Berkeley Square. The double door was flanked with tall columns that led us into the rotunda of the front hall. Maids took our coats and hats, and a butler led us to a drawing room somewhere in the vast interior.

There, I met Lady Gillis for the first time. When she entered, I was struck by how much younger she was than Lord Gillis. Grenville had mentioned that Lord Gillis was older than his wife, but Lady Gillis looked little more than a girl. I put her age as barely into her twenties, the same as Mrs. Bennington.

"Violet." Lady Breckenridge greeted Lady Gillis with kisses to her cheeks, French fashion. "Captain Lacey wishes to poke about your house. Shall you allow him?"