I had several questions to ask Lady Walsingham, yet I was very aware it might become difficult to now learn that—what they believed had been an accident—might very well have been no accident at all.
Lily had folded the comforter she had used the night before. She had slept on the settee in the main office with Rupert on the floor beside her, even though Brodie had offered our bed for Lily and I to share.
He had been perfectly willing to take the settee for the night or the chair at his desk, which he pointed out he had slept in more than once when working late on a case.
“The settee’s better than a pub or cold alley. I know how it is between a man and woman,” Lily reminded us.
“Aye, we’ll make up for it later,” Brodie had replied with a wink at her, while I chose to ignore the both of them.
The weather seemed to have settled somewhat during the night. It was not raining at the moment, although ice covered the walkway on the landing and hung from the railing on the second floor. Beyond the sidewalk, The Strand was a sea of slush as morning traffic of wagons and coaches cut paths around delivery carts and coal wagons.
“I’d like to accompany ye,” Lily commented as she handed me the folded comforter. “I can make notes.”
She had smoothed the wrinkles from her gown, combed her dark hair then tied it back, and made use of tooth powder at the washstand in our bedroom, as it was far too cold to venture down the hall, not to mention risk the icy landing.
“I know everything ye’ve learned from reading yer notes last night,” she added. “And I did assist yesterday at MarlboroughHouse, when ye might not have learned how the murderer escaped.”
“It could be useful,” Brodie commented. “As ye well know, I’ve not the fine penmanship that she has. And I’m off to Bond Street to speak with a tailor who might be able to tell us what they can about this.”
He held aloft the neck scarf Lily had found in the forest at Marlborough House the day before.
He pulled on his long coat, then took my hand and pulled me close. He brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers.
“And wot of the two of ye?”
It did seem there was no argument there about Lily accompanying me.
“Sir Laughton is to arrange a meeting with the man who was vice chancellor of Trinity College when His Highness and the others attended,” Lily announced.
“He may know something of the event that sent Prince Albert to the university just before the Prince of Wales departed,” I added. “And we will be meeting with Lady Walsingham,” I added. “I telephoned the residence yesterday, and she is willing to meet with us.”
“In the matter of the young man who died in that riding accident. It could be important.” He nodded, then kissed me.
“Then I will see ye both here afterward.”
It did seem as if Lily and Brodie might be forming a campaign against me.
Parry, shift, thrust, and point, well made from her lessons when I had instructed her in the sword room at Sussex Square.
She had learned her lessons well, and I agreed that she could accompany me this morning. I then hoped to meet with theformer vice chancellor from Trinity College whom Mr. Laughton had agreed to contact.
Sir John and Lady Walsingham, lived near Highgrove, an area of stately homes and estates. According to Aunt Antonia, the townhouse at number 12 Linden Place was their London residence, with their country home in Surrey which Althea Walsingham had inherited through her family.
They had returned to London at the end of September as the heat lessened in the city and the holiday season approached. The forthcoming Christmas holiday was their first since the death of their son.
There was the usual congestion of traffic on The Strand, particularly as the weather had settled somewhat and people took advantage to tend to their usual tasks at banks, shops, and the marketplace.
Mr. Cavendish was finally able to wave down a coach, the driver, Mr. Jarvis, familiar from previous adventures across the city. He tipped his cap.
“Mornin’ ladies, where will it be this fine mornin’?”
It was as I provided him the address at Linden Place that I caught sight of a man who stood head and shoulders above those around him who crowded the sidewalk across The Strand.
It was a fleeting glimpse and then he was gone. Still…
“That be in Highgrove,” Mr. Jarvis commented, drawing me back to the moment.
I nodded. “Yes.” And climbed into the coach.
