Julien gave her a nod as if words for his grief were too difficult. He said instead, ‘Your brother and his wife have been very kind.’
‘They feel it is the least they can do, considering the circumstances.’
Julien looked again at the card in his hand. ‘Fitz-Pennington and Sandys? What business do you have with me?’
Jacob shot Dora a look. She was keeping quiet, her attention on the Russians, and gave him no indication how to play this. It was up to him to take the lead. ‘Would you care to step outside so we can talk in private?’ suggested Jacob.
‘No, no, the count and countess are family friends. They know all my business. Indeed, I wouldn’t have survived the last month without their support.’ Julien tucked the card into his breast pocket.
‘Very well. Miss Fitz-Pennington and I run an agency looking into sensitive matters for private clients. One of them has asked us to ascertain the motive for the attack on your parents.’
Julien frowned. ‘It was a fit of insanity– I thought the coroner had decided?’
‘Indeed, but our client has heard rumours that threaten to tarnish your parents’ reputation posthumously and he wishes to have a cast-iron story to lay before the ton when it returns in September.’
‘What kind of rumours?’
‘That your father was working for the enemy.’
‘Impossible!’ Julien slammed the piano keys in a crashing discord.
Jacob held up a placating hand. ‘Which is why we want to scotch any such rumours and circulate the truth. That may well be that the killer was mad. If we can prove this wasn’t an isolated incident on the part of the perpetrator, that he was ill, then that would silence the gossipers.’ Indeed, that was an angle they were yet to explore. The Italian was little but a name to them at this point.
Vorontsov gave a snort of disdain. ‘You cannot stop rumours. You can only wait for them to die out. Everyone is dead. It no longer matters.’
‘Unfortunately, Count Vorontsov,’ said Dora, speaking up for the first time, ‘that is not true. Reputations matter to the living. I am sure thecomtewould not want to let his parents’ memory be injured when he can prevent it?’
Julien could not say he did not care after she had phrased it that way. ‘Indeed, Miss Fitz-Pennington. My parents deserve better. They deserve to have lived, but if they cannot have that, then they deserve to be respected.’
‘You weren’t with them that day?’ Dora asked gently.
‘No, I had gone ahead. I was here, preparing for a party– a musical party.Mamandid so love a—’ He broke off and got up to walk off his distress.
‘La comtessewas a lady of great talent,’ said Countess Vorontsova, taking over from their host. She languished on the sofa and fanned herself prettily. ‘We adored to hear her sing. Ivan, remember that New Year’s partychez nousin Dresden? She sang all evening, her powers undiminished.’ She turned to Julien. ‘Do you remember, Jules? I think you played your first piece before an audience that night.’
He smiled bitterly. ‘If only we could turn back the clock.’
‘I take it, countess, that you knew thecomteandcomtessewell when they lived in Dresden?’ asked Jacob, remembering Thornbury had said that thecomtehad been attached to the Russian Legation in 1805 until the then Russian Foreign Minister and thecomte’s sponsor had fallen out of favour.
‘Knew them?Mon cherDr Sandys,en effetwe lived together, in and out of each other’s houses.PetitJules was friendly with our own son, Grigory.’ She pursed her rosebud lips, managing to look childlike despite what he estimated was at least forty years of age. ‘Is war not a terrible thing? Thinking of the suffering of the mothers of Europe! The continent is awash in tears. Grigory is serving in the army now under Prince Kutuzov. I thought he would be the one in danger, notmes chers amisliving in London. You remember the party, don’t you, Katya?’
Miss Petrovna chuckled sadly. She had a deep voice for a woman, likely an alto if she sang. ‘That was a good season. I believe that was the winter I made my debut. It is cruel of you to remind me how many years have passed.’ She twirled her hand. ‘See, Dr Sandys, seven years have passed and I am still unattached.’
The countess seized Miss Petrovna’s fingers, gaze intense. ‘You must marry Jules, Katya, and then we can all smile again.’
Julien rolled his eyes, suggesting this was an old tease by someone he knew well and that no one was offended by the shameless matchmaking.
‘You know Julien is married to his music,’ said Miss Petrovna, patting her friend’s hand. ‘You must give up your schemes, Marta.’
‘I will not give up until everyone is happy and this war is over,’ said the countess with every indication that for her part she was not joking.
‘Count Vorontsov,’ said Jacob, ‘I’m sorry to return to the subject of the murders, but if this were a simple case resolved bythe death of Lorenzo then there would be wisdom in leaving it there. However, since we began asking questions a day ago it has become clear that someone is dangerously invested in making sure we get no answers. All three of us were attacked yesterday, unlikely though that may sound.’
‘Not to mention ungentlemanly,’ muttered Miss Austen.
‘We’ve upset someone and now we must know why, else we will not know for certain if the danger has passed.’
‘Do you English not say, never disturb the wasp nest?’ said Vorontsov, the gold of his epaulets shining with military splendour. He was a strange messenger to preach avoidance. Jacob rather thought his appearance more suited to charging directly at the guns.
