“Nonsense,” snapped Cordelia, turning her gimlet gaze on him. “You have a very sharp mind, and you grasp concepts quite easily.”
Sheffield blinked.
“Is there a reason why you wish to portray yourself as a buffle-brained widgeon to others?”
Charlotte bit back a smile at the odd look that spread across her friend’s face. It mingled shock and . . . something she couldn’t quite define.
“I—I . . .”
Ignoring his stammer, Cordelia turned over a fresh card from the deck. “For example, you now hold an eight. So recall the cards that have already been dealt and tell me whether you would take another card in this game of vingt-et-un.”
He thought for a moment. “No.”
“Why?”
To Charlotte’s surprise, he answered with a crisp mathematical analysis.
“You see!” said Cordelia with a note of triumph. For an instant, her features seemed to soften. “You’re not an idiot.”
“Er . . .” Sheffield cleared his throat with an embarrassed cough. “Only because you explain things very well.”
An awkward silence stretched on for several long moments as Cordelia reshuffled the cards. “Forgive me, Lady Charlotte—I’ve neglected to offer you some refreshments.” She made a rueful face. “I’m not often called upon to exercise my ladylike graces.”
“That suits me perfectly well, as I’ve no desire to drink and engage in superficial conversation,” replied Charlotte. “In fact, I’d rather stay on the subject of mathematics.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, the reason I’ve come is to ask your help in solving a puzzle involving numbers.”
A flare of interest lit in Cordelia’s hazel eyes, and for an instant, her dark lashes seemed aglitter with a spark of gold.
“Lady Julianna presented me with a conundrum the other night—a challenge, if you will,” continued Charlotte. “However, my mathematical skills are no match for its complexity.”
“She enjoys weaving intricate games within games. So, yes, her puzzles tend to be arcane,” responded Cordelia. “Why do you care about solving it?”
“Because my cousin was recently murdered—quite luridly, as you’ve no doubt read in all the newspapers,” she answered, deciding not to mince words. “Lady Julianna seemed to hint that the answer to the puzzle might shed some light on the crime. So, however unlikely, I feel I can’t ignore the possibility.”
“As I said, Lady Julianna likes to play games,” murmured Cordelia. She took a moment to turn over several cards.
The queen of hearts. The ace of spades. The three of clubs.
And do you like playing games, too, Lady Cordelia?wondered Charlotte as she smoothed out a crease in her skirts. If the cards were meant as some esoteric warning to frighten her off, it was a wasted effort.
Cordelia leaned back against the pillows. “I had thought the evidence against your other cousin was considered irrefutably damning. But I saw that gadfly A. J. Quill’s latest drawing raised some questions as to his guilt. I take it you agree?”
“There are enough questions that I’m not yet ready to believe him capable of the crime.”
“I agree,” interjected Sheffield. “The evidence is all circumstantial. And no witness has come forward to place Locke at the scene of the murder.”
“Well, it would certainly be a miscarriage of justice to send the wrong man to the gallows.” Cordelia hesitated, a frown flitting over her face. And then she abruptly held out her hand. “Let me have a look at the puzzle.”
Charlotte handed over the package containing all the material.
The papers unfolded with a whispery crackle.
Drawing in a deep breath, Sheffield stood up and went to stand by the bank of windows overlooking the walled garden.
With a quick flick of her hand, Cordelia brushed the playing cards to one side of the table and laid out a selection of the fanciful numerical cards.
