Clenching her teeth, Charlotte felt a pang of regret at the loss of her anonymity. As a mere nobody among the countless nobodies living in London, she had possessed a great deal of unfettered freedom.
Her new life was promising to be far more complicated.
“Dr. Hosack, please forgive me,” she murmured, turning her attention from death to a more pragmatic matter. “But will you excuse me for drawing His Lordship aside for a few moments? I need to have a private word with him in the adjoining gallery.”
“Y-Yes, yes, of course, milady,” stuttered the American. “I–I apologize again for—”
“Actually, Hosack, I believe we’re finished with our examination, so why don’t you return to Lord Bethany and tell him he may allow the mortuary men to proceed,” suggested Wrexford. “I’ll remain here to make sure they understand that the body is to be taken to Henning’s surgery.” The muffled chink of coins sounded as he patted his pockets to find his purse.
“That makes perfect sense, milord.” The doctor looked greatly relieved. “I’m—I’m very grateful to you.”
“It’s the least I can do for you and your friend,” replied Wrexford. His smile at Hosack belied the look in his eyes as his gaze swung back to her.
Damnation.Preoccupied with her own worries about the evening’s festivities, she had neglected to tell him about Tyler’s invitation to Hawk. It hadn’t seemed important . . .
Wrexford waited until they were alone before uttering a low oath. “What did you mean about Hawk? Granted, mischief goes hand in hand with the Weasels—”
“Weasels” was the moniker he had bestowed on the boys during their first encounter, when Raven had stabbed the earl in the leg. That little misunderstanding had long since been forgiven. However, the name had stuck, much to the amusement of the boys.
“No, no, they are innocent of any troublemaking.” At least, she fervently hoped that was true. “Tyler invited Hawk to come sketch in the outer gardens while he assisted the organizing committee. I’m sure the two of them have returned to Mayfair by now, but the fact that you were summoned by a very serious-looking Lord Bethany had me alarmed.”
“I think we can rule out the lad as a murder suspect.” The earl’s expression relaxed somewhat. “Though McClellan would claim that he and his brother slay every rule of cleanliness.”
“Muck also goes hand in hand with the Weasels,” said Charlotte, greatly relieved that Hawk was not involved in the evening’s troubling incident. But as for Mr. Becton’s death . . .
“Did Dr. Hosack give any reason for why he thinks foul play is involved?” She glanced again at the supposed victim and the shattered specimens scattered on the floor.
“He suspects poison.”
“Hmmm.” She crouched down beside the corpse and took a close look at the man’s face. “The white crystals at the corners of his mouth?”
“Yes.” The earl waited while she inched back to examine the lifeless fingers, then offered his hand and helped her rise.
“It could be something innocent,” mused Charlotte.
“That was my thought as well.”
A pensive frown pulled at her lips. “At first blush, the circumstances seem to indicate a death from natural causes.”
He then moved around the body, studying the details again before replying. “So they do.”
The thumps and clatter of the approaching mortuary men forestalled any further discussion. “I think it prudent that you stay out of sight.” Knowing Charlotte was familiar with the conservatory, he added, “I suggest you wait in the study room, where the collection of botanical art is kept. It’s close by and the door affords a measure of privacy. I’ll come fetch you when I’m done here.”
Charlotte nodded and quietly melted away into the shadows.
Lud, what a coil.There was, she conceded, a certain irony to having a murder mar her first appearance in Polite Society since her engagement. Their good friend Basil Henning often accused her and the earl of deliberately tripping over dead bodies.
An unfair observation, though it did seem to happen with frightening frequency—
“Psst! M’lady!”
An agitated whisper from within a thick screen of foliage yanked her from her musings.
Spinning around, she quickly crouched down and parted the dark leaves, revealing her ward’s dirt-streaked face. “Good heavens, Hawk! What are you doing there?”
“I . . . I—”
“No, no—never mind an explanation now,” she interrupted. “Just come along with me—quickly and quietly.”
