A Poisoned Season

24

Even before I could ring for Davis, the police watching my house mobilized and set off after the person who had thrown the brick. Although none of them had actually seen the act, an instant before he heard the crash of breaking glass, one alert officer had noticed a man run off at top speed, and his cries immediately caught the attention of the plainclothes policeman in the square.

Davis and three footmen appeared in the library almost at once, clearly relieved to find me unhurt. It was lucky that I had not been sitting on the window seat, as was often my habit. The abrasion on my cheek from when the coach tried to run me down had healed, but the anxiety caused by knowing that I'd been targeted for harm had not faded with my wound. This latest incident only increased my feeling of unease.

Unfortunately, the miscreant eluded his pursuers, and the police were baffled as to his identity. There was very little more they could do. Inspector Manning was called to the scene, and he, along with Colin, whom Davis had sent for, examined the note. Not unexpectedly, it bore no identifying features. The only thing we were able to determine was that the handwriting was significantly different from that on the missives I had received from my admirer. Hardly surprising. I wouldn't have expected him to start flinging objects through my windows. It wasn't his style.

"We're taking every precaution we can to ensure your safety, Lady Ashton," Inspector Manning said. "But I would suggest that you perhaps consider heeding the message. There's no point in exposing yourself to further danger."

"The only way for the danger to be averted is to solve the crime, Inspector," Colin said. "And I've come to see that Lady Ashton's contributions in such matters are inestimable. I suspect the culprit knows it, too, or he wouldn't feel so threatened by her."

"So you think this has something to do with the murders in Richmond?" the inspector asked.

"I'm certain of it," I replied.

"I'm not," Colin said. "It may be that the letters you're deciphering are completely unrelated but dangerous in their own right."

"The police are confident in the case against the maid," Inspector Manning said.

"That does not mean they're right," I said.

Perhaps the most baffling thing to me at that moment was the connection between the murders and the thefts. If Beatrice were culpable, then why would the news reports of the pink diamond have correlated with her husband's death? Could learning about the stone have made her want to kill the man she claimed to love?

I looked to Ivy's masquerade ball to provide a much-needed respite in the midst of all this excitement. When at last the night of the party arrived, it seemed as if all of London had descended upon Belgrave Square. The line of carriages crowding the street paralyzed traffic for blocks, and an atmosphere of gaiety permeated the entire neighborhood. Ivy, always the most considerate of hostesses, had some of her footmen bring cider and cakes around to all the coachmen while they waited. I had arrived early to help my friend with any last-minute catastrophes but found I had nothing to do. Ivy was far too organized to allow for emergencies.

She had decided not to impose upon her guests a theme, and the result of this was a house filled with costumes of every sort. I counted at least two queens of Sheba, three Cleopatras, and, not surprising given the current goings-on in town, no fewer than eight Marie Antoinettes. Lord Fortescue had come as Cardinal Richelieu. I was dressed as Helen of Troy, in a long tunic made by Mr. Worth from the finest white silk, artfully held together at the shoulders by gold brooches. Meg had spent nearly an hour arranging my hair in a complicated series of upswept braids and curls to a stunning result. My ensemble was completed with dainty golden sandals.

I had planned my costume before deciding that I would wear something of Marie Antoinette's to the ball, and by the time I had arranged to do so, it was too late to order something different. So my Helen wore an anachronistic choker fashioned of diamonds that came from the infamous diamond-necklace affair. They weren't the actual stones; I was unable to persuade the current owner to part with them. She did, however, agree to pretend that she had sold them to me, and lent me the paste copy that she'd had made years ago for times when she wanted the look of the necklace without having to worry about losing it.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look more lovely," Ivy said, coming to me as soon as the bulk of her guests had arrived.

"I do well so long as I stand away from you," I said, smiling. She was resplendent as Britannia. Her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes commanded the attention of any gentleman in her immediate vicinity. "No one stands a chance next to you."

"You underestimate yourself," she said. "Have you seen Colin yet?"

"No. Has he arrived?"

"Yes. He's dressed as an Elizabethan courtier and looks devastatingly handsome."

Robert, appearing as the emperor Charles V, came up next to his wife. "Who is devastatingly handsome?"

"You of course, darling," she replied with the sweetest sort of smile. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and, I'm happy to report, didn't seem distracted in the least. Nonetheless, I couldn't help but wonder if Mrs. Reynold-Plympton was on the guest list.

In the ballroom the dancing had started. Isabelle, as a shepherdess, wore the most sweetly innocent costume in the house. She was positively beaming at the gentleman who guided her across the floor. It was Lord Pembroke. My heart felt heavy for the girl, and I hoped her mother would not notice her choice of partner.

Charles Berry, proving once and for all his complete lack of imagination, appeared as Louis XIV and was hanging lecherously on a very young and very pretty girl whom I did not recognize. I couldn't find Colin but had promised the next dance to Jeremy, who was decked out as a Roman soldier, complete with bronze armor. Although he did not dance so gracefully as Colin, he was a good partner, and we spent a pleasant time together on the floor.

"Will it scandalize everyone if you stand up with me again?" he asked when the music stopped.

"I don't think so," I said. "Three in a row might raise eyebrows, but two surely wouldn't." We accepted champagne from an obliging footman and drank it, catching our breath as we waited for the next dance to begin. When the music started, he led me back to the floor, but almost immediately a gentleman wearing the robes of a Bedouin warrior interrupted us.

"If you'd be so kind, Your Grace, may I steal your partner?"

Jeremy laughed. "I knew I couldn't keep her for two full dances." He bowed and left me with this stranger.

"Are you a friend of the duke?" I asked as he placed his hand on my waist, and we started to dance.

"You could say that," he replied.

"I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I don't recognize you."

"I didn't think you would, though I must confess to finding that slightly disappointing."

"What is your name?"

"Sebastian Capet." I racked my brain but could think of no acquaintance called Sebastian. My partner laughed, seeing my confusion. "You've no idea who I am, have you?" he asked.

"Not the slightest." I could see nothing of his face except for a pair of bright blue eyes rimmed with thick, dark lashes.

"Perhaps this will refresh your memory." He pulled me closer to him and spoke in a quiet but intense voice, reciting something in ancient Greek.

"I hoped you would come tonight," I said, a pleasant thrill tingling all the way to my toes.

"You were very foolish to announce to anyone who would listen that you'd be wearing diamonds from the queen's necklace. Although, you know, it never precisely belonged to her. She insisted that she'd never ordered it."

"I did worry about that, but obviously the technicality didn't keep you away. Does it mean, though, that you won't steal them from me?"

"That, my darling Kallista, remains to be seen. Are you enjoying Léonard's letters?"

"Very much. From whom did you take them?"

"Why do you assume they're stolen?"

"Really, Mr. Capet, isn't the answer obvious?"

"I admit that my actions are not always precisely legal, but laws do not always lead to justice."

"And what is the justice you seek?"

"I won't be tricked into revealing myself so easily."

"You can't fault me for trying."

"I should never fault you for anything. You're terminally charming. I lost my heart the moment I saw you asleep in your bed."

"I can't say that I particularly like having a gentleman watch me sleeping."

"Then I won't do it again."

"And I want Cécile's earrings back."

He stopped dancing. "Would you come outside with me?" This was no time to hesitate. He could vanish as quickly as he'd appeared. I followed him into the garden, which was filled with couples who had come outside for air and the privacy they could not find in a ballroom. Japanese lanterns hung from every tree, casting a romantic sort of dancing light over the scene. He took my hand rather than my arm, and I did nothing to protest. It was rather exciting to be escorted by such a skilled thief through a society ball. He paused to take two glasses of champagne off a footman's tray, then sat on a bench in a quiet corner.

"Did you kill David Francis?" I asked.

He laughed. "I'm the last person on earth who would have done that."

"I didn't really suspect you. If you were the murderer, you wouldn't have left the snuffbox at the scene."

"No, I certainly would not."

"Although given the cause of death, there's no reason to think the murderer was there when Mr. Francis died."

"I suppose."

"Why didn't you take the snuffbox when you stole the diamond?"

"I didn't know Francis had it."

"So you went back after you read about it in the papers?"

"No, darling, I didn't. Someone else took it."

"Who?"

"Now, don't you think if I knew that, I would get it for myself?"

"How would you go about finding it?"

"I'm not about to reveal professional secrets," he said.

"What do you do with everything you steal? It doesn't appear that you're selling it."

"Investigating me, are you? No, I don't sell what I take."

"Do you give it to anyone?"

"No."

"Do you work with anyone?"

"Do you really think I would tell you? Oh, darling, I would love to confide in you, but I'm afraid you've not yet earned my trust."

A strange, heavy feeling crept up on me, and I found that I could hardly keep my eyes open. "How do I earn your trust?" It took a considerable effort to hold up my head.

"Forgive me, darling," he said. He caught me as I started to slump over, and though my memory of the rest is, at best, hazy, I could swear that he kissed me before laying me on the bench.

I need hardly say that he took the necklace. When I awoke, I was upstairs in a bedroom, Ivy, Robert, Colin, Jeremy, and Margaret hovering around me. I felt like lead and knew at once it would be pointless to try to sit. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Ivy said. "Margaret and Jeremy found you in the garden. They were unable to rouse you so thought it best to bring you inside."

"How did I get here?"

"Bainbridge carried you," Colin said.

"Oh dear," I said. "The gossips must have found that a ripe scene."

"Don't worry about that now," Ivy said.

"I didn't faint. You know that I don't faint. My champagne was drugged." I told them about my conversation with Sebastian.

"Good gad, Emily," Jeremy said. "I should never have turned you over to him. I thought you knew him."

"And I thought you did. It's all right, Jeremy. You're not to blame."

"Shall I send for a doctor?" Robert asked.

"I think so," Jeremy said. "We've no idea what he gave her."

"I'm feeling much better," I said.

"I'm getting a doctor." Robert left the room.

"We found this next to you," Margaret said, handing me a book.

"My Odyssey!" A note fell from the pages as I flipped through the book. "He's left me a message: 'You are not being careful enough, Kallista darling. It was too easy for me to take this from you, and too easy to get you to follow me tonight. Think what someone with a more nefarious purpose could do to you.'"

"Emily, I don't think you should continue to pursue this man," Ivy said. "He's a thief and now reveals himself as dangerous."

"Quite the contrary. He reveals himself to be concerned with my well-being. I do wish he'd given back my notebook, too."

"He drugged you," Ivy said. "How can you not see the seriousness of this?"

"I baited him to take the necklace. I should have known better than to drink with him."

"If he didn't get you with the champagne, I'm sure he would have figured out another way. Going into the garden with such a man was not, perhaps, the best decision," Colin said, his eyes darker than usual.

"Easy to say now," I said. "But I didn't think he would divulge any useful information on the dance floor."

"It doesn't sound like he divulged anything useful in the garden, either," Colin said.

I raised myself up on my elbows. "Well, I had to try. And he did reveal one interesting tidbit: His name is Sebastian Capet. Does it seem familiar to any of you?"

"No," Margaret said, but none of the rest replied.

"It was the name given to the French royal family during the revolution. Stripped of his title, the king became Louis Capet."

"Surely you don't suspect —" Ivy began.

"The dauphin would have changed his name," Margaret said.

I shrugged. "Maybe. But it's entirely possible that, later, his heirs adopted it."