Gretton, had you given me up for another day?’
‘No, my lord, that is—’
‘Do not stand there gawping at me, man. Go and lay out my black coat; I must change before I can go to my club to dine.’ He broke off when realized his valet was not alone on the landing. A tall gentleman in a dark coat and bagwig stood behind him and the viscount could see two more figures standing in the shadows.
‘Do we have visitors, Gretton?’
‘Not
visitors
, as such, sir …’ the valet tailed off unhappily, and the gentleman in the bagwig stepped forward.
‘Am I to understand that you are Lord Kennington, sir?’
‘I think you may understand that,’ replied the viscount. He had reached the landing by now and paused to strip off his gloves, a faint, questioning lift to his brows.
‘I also understand that you have returned from Shropshire, my lord, by way of Bromsgrove and Hansford. That was on Friday, was it not, my lord?’
‘Aye, that is so. May I ask where this is leading?’
‘Aye, sir. On Friday last, Sir Talbot Bradfield was shot on Hansford Common. We have a witness who says you murdered him.’
CHAPTER TEN
When Lord Kennington did not call in Sophia Street the following day Mrs Symonds was disappointed but not surprised.
‘Depend upon it, my loves,’ she said to her daughters, ‘he will not want to seem too eager in his suit.’
However, when another morning passed without a visit she was less sanguine and even inclined to be indignant.
‘We have stayed indoors particularly that we might not miss him,’ she grumbled, ‘and this is how he repays us.’
‘I thought we stayed in because I had nothing decent to wear,’ put in Lucasta.
‘That may have been another reason, but you know we decided my tawny silk would do very nicely for you now we have let down the hem. You shall wear it to Lady Redwater’s rout tonight. We have waited long enough for Lord Kennington, he must now take pot luck upon finding us at home, for we really have no interest in him.’
‘And as you said, Mama, we might hear news of him at Lady Redwater’s,’ said Camilla, ruining the effect of her mother’s studied indifference.
Lucasta was as eager as her mother to go out: she, too, had been expecting the viscount to call and was surprised at the depth of her disappointment. It was therefore with a feeling of pleasurable anticipation rather than her usual trepidation that she made her preparations and allowed her mother’s coiffeuse to arrange her hair, concealing its shorter length with artful curls. They arrived at Lady Redwater’s fine town house in good time and Mrs Symonds introduced her eldest daughter with a smooth explanation of her sudden appearance in Town. Then, flanked by Camilla and Lucasta, she launched herself into the company, alert for news of the viscount.
They had not been in the room five minutes before they heard his name. Mrs Symonds immediately turned to the speaker.
You were talking of Lord Kennington, I believe, sir: is he not here tonight? I made sure to see him …’
The gentleman looked at her in surprise.
‘My dear ma’am, you will look for him in vain, I fear.’
‘It is best is you do not look for him at all,’ tittered the lady on his arm. Observing Lucasta’s puzzled look she leaned closer and whispered, ‘He has been clapped up.’
‘Never was I so taken in,’ the gentleman shook his head. ‘Why, I was going to offer him my black mare, but not now, not now!’
‘Why, what has he done?’ asked Mrs Symonds, looking around in astonishment.
‘Why the fellow’s a murderer!’
‘No!’
The gentleman turned to Lucasta, shaking his head at her.
‘I know, Miss Symonds, it was a shock to us all, but it is beyond doubt. There are witnesses.’
Her mouth felt dry. She forced herself to speak calmly.
‘Does anyone know the detail?’
‘Aye, ’tis all over Town. He waylaid Sir Talbot Bradfield and shot him dead.’
Camilla gave a small shriek. Lucasta grew cold. She