“Lord Wrexford.” It was said in a discreet murmur, but Charlotte heard the note of tension in the speaker’s voice.
The earl did as well, for she saw him stiffen as he looked around. She recognized the man as Lord Bethany, the secretary of the Royal Society, and one of the organizers of the symposium.
“Forgive the interruption, sir.” The look of alarm in his eyes belied his smile as he drew Wrexford aside. “But might I ask you to come with me to the conservatory? There’s been an . . . unfortunate mishap.”
* * *
Mist swirled through the evening gloom as they hurried down the walkway, the vapor giving a ghostly sheen to the angled silhouettes of glowing glass and brass.
“Why fetch me?” demanded Wrexford, once Bethany had finished his account of the gardener’s discovery of Mr. Becton’s corpse among the exotic specimens.
“I confess, I’m not entirely sure, sir. But Dr. Hosack was insistent that I bring you to him, and as he is head of the American delegation, I felt it my duty to accede to his wishes, given the circumstances.” The secretary grimaced. “Political relations are strained enough between our two countries without any bad feelings arising over any imagined snub by us in dealing with this incident.”
The sharp crunch of their steps on the gravel seemed amplified by the peaceful quiet of the surrounding gardens.
“But I only know Hosack by reputation,” mused the earl.
“Apparently, he knows ofyourreputation, too, milord.”
Keeping his temper in check, Wrexford held back a sarcastic retort, even though the allusion to his previous murder investigations made no sense. From what Bethany had told him, the man who had dropped dead had a history of ill health, and there was no reason to suspect foul play.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, Bethany quickening his pace, clearly anxious to complete his good deed for Hosack.
The American doctor was waiting in the main foyer of the conservatory, the lantern clasped in his hand illuminating the grim set of his face. Several other men were standing together in the far corner, conversing in muted tones. At the earl’s entrance, they looked up and stopped talking.
“Thank you for coming, Lord Wrexford.” Hosack gave a gruff nod of greeting.
“Might I ask that you conduct your meeting with the earl as quickly as possible so that the mortuary men may be permitted to remove Mr. Becton’s mortal remains to a more appropriate resting place?” Despite the chill air, Bethany’s brow was beaded with sweat. He took a moment to blot them away with his handkerchief.
“As I hope you can appreciate, sir, the Royal Society would prefer that the untimely demise of your colleague doesn’t overshadow the mission of the symposium,” he continued. “We have brought together all these international scholars—no easy feat in these uncertain times of war and strife—in order for them to share their knowledge and discoveries with each other for the good of all mankind.”
“I couldn’t agree more with your goals, milord, and I applaud the Society’s impressive work to make the world a better place for all,” replied Hosack. “I simply wish to solicit Lord Wrexford’s opinion on something before my friend’s remains are disturbed.”
“I still question why—” began the earl, but a quick mute appeal from Hosack caused him to leave off with a shrug. “However, I’m happy to comply with the doctor’s request.”
“Then, of course, I have no objection,” conceded Bethany, though his expression remained troubled.
“I’m very grateful to you, Lord Wrexford.” Hosack gestured toward the corridor leading to the rear section of the building. “Please come with me, sir.”
The lush greenery and flowering specimens soon enveloped them in a heady perfume of sweet and spicy scents. Moonlight scudded over the skylights, adding a pearly glow to the bright flicker of the hanging lanterns that dotted the walkway. Leaves whispered softly as they brushed past the delicate fronds of aRavenea rivularis.
Hosack led the way through one of the display rooms before slowing and coming to a halt behind an arrangement of pottedTheobroma cacaotrees. “I know how irregular my request must have appeared to you.”
“It did, indeed,” agreed Wrexford. “Seeing as I don’t know you from Adam.”
“But I have heard a great deal about you, sir . . .” For just an instant, a glimmer of amusement softened the look of distress in the American’s eyes. “From Gideon Tyler, a friend from my time spent studying in Scotland.”
Tyler was a man of many talents, two of which were serving as both the earl’s valet and his laboratory assistant.
Alas.An oath hovered on the tip of Wrexford’s tongue. Another was a penchant for grossly exaggerating the ghoulish exploits of their previous murder investigations.
“Tyler’s tales ought to be taken with a grain of salt,” he responded, now having an inkling of why his presence had been requested. “I imagine the sudden death of your colleague has come as a shock, sir. But most such incidents, however unfortunate, have nothing to do with foul play.”
“Under most circumstances, I couldn’t agree more, milord. I’m a physician, and thus am no stranger to death,” answered Hosack. “I simply hope you’ll bear with me and agree to have a look at the scene. Tyler speaks of you as a man who sees things with a sharp-eyed clarity, unclouded by emotion. So I would greatly value your objective observations.”
A reluctant sigh stirred the air. “I’ve come this far. I might as well have a look.”
They resumed walking. Wrexford liked that the doctor didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. Hosack moved purposefully, his footsteps tapping a brisk tattoo on the stone flagging as he led the way through several more turns.
