However, he wasn’t as quick as Charlotte was to conclude that DeVere was the guilty party. Granted his expertise in exotic plants and his utter disregard for human life were marks against him. However, Wrexford was familiar enough with the world of science to be aware of the jealousies, the fierce ambitions, and the fight for accolades and acclaim that swirled within all the high-minded scientific societies. There were likely a number of possible suspects.
Which made their task all the more difficult.
He released a terse sigh. Charlotte had taken up the challenge. And like a mastiff with a bone clamped between its jaws, she wouldn’t surrender it until justice was done. She was so damnably stubborn, so damnably principled.
He loved her for her passions. But they scared him half to death.
Charlotte fisted her hands in her silken skirts and moved closer to the mullioned window, drawing the earl’s attention back to the moment.
“I think we have a good idea of what he wants,” she murmured, finally responding to Cordelia’s comment.
Charlotte’s revelation had come first, but Wrexford sensed that Cordelia was also anxious to share some news.
“I think we can allguess,” said Sheffield. “But no doubt Wrex will warn us—”
“Notto jump to conclusions,” intoned Cordelia.
“I don’t disagree with him,” said Charlotte. “I’m merely saying,Where there is smoke, there is likely fire.”
“But let us be alert to the fact that several different blazes may be contributing to the haze,” cautioned Cordelia.
Charlotte’s expression sharpened. “You’ve found some other clue?”
“Perhaps.” Cordelia looked around to make sure they were still alone before continuing. “I had one of our clerks cozy up to a sailor from the American naval frigate. It seems Captain Daggett’s last assignment was conveying several government envoys to Martinique for talks on trade between the French islands and America.”
Sheffield frowned in thought. “You think the Americans—Daggett, Quincy, and Adderley—may be working together, and that DeVere is merely a chance acquaintance?”
“I’m merely pointing it out as a possibility,” answered Cordelia.
“There are,” mused Wrexford, “a number of dangling threads . . .”
The rustle of silk at the entrance to the portrait gallery warned that their council of war was about to be over.
“But whether any of them tie together remains to be seen.”
* * *
Threads.Was there one that she might grasp and turn into a drawing without giving too much away?
Splashing water on her face, Charlotte contemplated the question as she began her ablutions the next morning. In many ways, she was caught between a rock and a stone. DeVere’s perfidy had been kept a strict secret on orders from the highest echelons of the government, as they had feared the scandal would taint both the aristocracy and the august scientific institutions of the country. As a result, the Royal Society and the Royal Institution had no idea that DeVere’s decision to leave England for an extended period of foreign travel was for any reason other than curiosity.
Or perhaps mourning. The scientific world had all been greatly saddened by the news of his ward’s accidental death during an experiment with electricity in her laboratory. Much admired for her beauty, grace, and intellect, Lady Julianna Aldrich had been seen as an extraordinarily gifted student of science . . . rather than a murderous monster.
Charlotte expelled a sigh, knowing there would be hell to pay if A. J. Quill ever hinted at the truth. The government would be furious, and the repercussions would fall on Griffin and Wrexford . . . not to speak of herself, who had been seen as another of Lady Julianna’s victims.
She couldn’t afford to stir such scrutiny.
“Damnation, if I want to hint that he’s evil, it must be over something in the present,” she muttered. Which was all the more reason to learn the truth about Becton’s murder.
After stabbing the last hairpins into her coiled topknot, she rose and headed down to the kitchen.
The aromas of breakfast—strong coffee, frying gammon, fresh-baked bread—wafted out from the half-open door, along with the clatter of pans and the cheerful banter between McClellan and the boys.
Her heart gave a lurch at the thought of DeVere’s veiled threat to her family.
“How was the palace?” asked Hawk through a mouthful of shirred eggs. “Mr. Linsley says it’s filled with magnificent paintings.”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” chided McClellan as she handed Charlotte a steaming mug of coffee.
