“Tragic, but it does not suggest it was at Ombrage’s hand,” Gabe said, hoping he was correct. Ombrage had tested and outmaneuvered his pursuers at every turn.
“We found this.” Geraint lowered a lace-trimmed handkerchief to the table. “The victim was rolled onto his back, arms crossed. That was over his face.”
“Which tells us the murderer likes lace,” Nathan said.
“The death came by a stiletto through the heart,” Geraint added.
Three hallmarks of an Ombrage murder, Gabe thought. Handkerchief, position of the body, and instrument of death.
“Christ,” Zach hissed. “Just once it would be nice for you to say ‘go here, the villain will be seated in a parlor chair awaiting your arrival. He will not struggle.’ The chase Ombrage sent us on still makes me shudder.”
Geraint’s lips moved slightly in what Gabe thought may be a smile, but he couldn’t be sure. “It is your job to uncover the information, and nothing in life is easy.”
“Never a truer word spoken,” Zach muttered. “We are indebted to our forefathers for setting us on this path,” he added sarcastically.
“So, it’s either him or a copycat.” Nathan ignored his brother, although Zach only said what they were all thinking. As yet, he’d not learned to guard his tongue.
“This incident suggests to me Ombrage escaped death and is now back,” Geraint said. “His details were never in the newspapers. I doubt it is a copycat.”
“Plunge uses lace handkerchiefs,” Zach smiled.
“Plunge is a fop.” Gabe dismissed Viscount Plunge with a wave of his hand, which in all honesty was the best thing to do when dealing with that fool. The man set Gabe’s teeth on edge and was incapable of articulate conversation, let alone murder.
“And let us not forget he could be French or English,” Michael said. “We never confirmed that, as no one saw him.”
“Except you.” Nathan looked at Gabe.
“Except me, and I only saw him from a distance. I shot him, he fell into the water, and when I searched there was no sign of him or his body.”
“And he never spoke to you?”
Gabe’s hesitation was brief, but his brothers saw it.
“You never told us he spoke to you.” Michael looked angry.
“I didn’t think there was a need, as he was dead.”
“What did he say?” Zach demanded.
“La mort t’attend, Raine, quand on se reverra.”
“What?” Nathan leapt from his seat.
“My French is not as quick as yours,” Zach said.
“Death awaits you, Raine, when next we meet,” Michael said. “No, wait. Death awaits you, Raine, when we meet again.”
“Neither is to my liking,” Nathan snapped. “You should have told us.” He jabbed a finger at Gabe.
“I thought he was dead. It appears I was mistaken. Calm down, Nathan, no one is killing anyone.”
Gabe thought back to earlier, when he’d fought the man Dimity called Clancy. He had known who he was. Could it be possible Ombrage had sent him to kill Gabe?
“What does he want, I wonder, if indeed it is Ombrage, when we are no longer at war with France?” Michael asked.
“There are some who do not think our monarch fit to rule,” Geraint said. “Assassinating the king will plunge the United Kingdom into unsettling times. Others don’t need a reason to kill a king, they simply want it done.”
“And we believe that Ombrage is backed by some powerful people,” Michael said.
