I had thoughtof taking Lily back to Sussex Square after the meeting with Lady Walsingham.
However, there was only enough time to purchase a sandwich from a vendor, then continue to the meeting Sir Laughton had arranged with the former vice chancellor of Trinity College Cambridge at the time of that incident at the university.
Sir Lowery lived in Belgravia, an area of white stucco residences and townhouses to the east of Kensington. Afternoon street traffic was considerably less as we passed through Knightsbridge and arrived in a timely manner.
From what Sir Laughton had said, Sir Lowery lived in Belgravia with his wife, lecturing at the different colleges, and consulting as a Professor of Law Emeritus.
The housekeeper showed us into the library after we arrived.
Sir Lowery, with a warm brown gaze and a full beard, rose from his desk to greet us.
We exchanged the usual pleasantries, along with my introduction of Lily.
“I must say, Lady Forsythe, that I am an admirer of Emma Fortescue. Quite a remarkable woman. Reminds me of my dear wife, never a dull moment, keeps me on my toes to be certain. She introduced me to your first book.
“Now,” he said. “What manner might a college professor be of assistance? A question about law in your inquiry cases perhaps?”
His housekeeper appeared, followed by a small, robust woman with silvered hair. Lady Letitia Lowery, with an apron over her gown and smudges across one cheek.
“Forgive my appearance. I am transplanting day lilies, I don’t trust them to anyone else,” she said. “Yet, I wanted very much to meet you when Sir Lowery mentioned you would be calling today.
“That young woman—Emma, such a wonderful character. Brave, and much her own woman, that whole episode on the Greek Island, so exciting, and that mysterious man at the end!”
“My dear, Lady Forsythe is not here to discuss Greek adventures or her writing endeavors.”
She made a gesture with a smudged hand, as if to wave off the criticism. She was not the least intimidated or content to be “put in her place” as some women might have been.
“I do suppose that it is too early in the day for a dram,” Lady Lowery commented with that reference to my protagonist, Emma Fortescue.
“Coffee will be fine, Letitia.”
“Of course,” she beamed and sent their housekeeper off to bring it to the library.
“I must get back to my garden, it has become quite overgrown. I am thinking of adding narcissus and possibly crocus for next spring. The colors will be quite lovely.” She paused at the entrance to the library.
“I do hope there will be new adventures for Emma Fortescue, and perhaps more about that mysterious man.” She smiled and left without waiting for my response so that we might continue our conversation.
“You must forgive her boldness.” Sir Lowery started to apologize.
“Not at all,” I assured him. “She is quite wonderful.”
He smiled. “Narcissus and crocus. We shall see. Now, how may I assist you in this matter that Sir Laughton spoke of?”
I didn’t know how much detail to provide and so decided to begin with that notorious title four young university students had adopted thirty years before while at Trinity College.
“Tell me about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
“An intriguing request on a subject not many know of.” Sir Lowery reached across his desk and picked up his pipe.
“Do you mind, Lady Forsythe?” he inquired.
“Not at all.”
Brodie smoked a pipe from time to time, most usually when he was deep in thought over a case, and I enjoyed the fragrance of it.
And very much the same, there was a thoughtful expression on Sir Lowery’s face as he scooped tobacco from a humidor on the desk into the bowl of the pipe, tamped it down, then struck a match and lit it.
He squinted slightly, eyeing me thoughtfully through a swirling cloud of fragrant smoke as he puffed away, then put out the match in the small ash pan on the desk.
