‘But m’lady said—” began Hawk, then fell silent at the carriage lumbered around the bend and came to a halt.
The door flung open, and a figure scrambled down the iron rungs and started to run toward them.
“Falcon!” cried the Weasels, their voices punctuated by Harper’s thunderous barking. The three of them flew to meet their comrade-in-mischief and in the next instant were all a blur of tangled limbs and wagging fur.
A second figure dressed in the finely tailored formality of a gentleman descended to the carriageway.
“Why, that’s Peregrine’s guardian,” muttered Alison. “Which begs the question . . .” She raised her cane in greeting. “Welcome to Wrexford Manor, Mr. Belmont.” The wife of Charlotte’s brother was the sister of Belmont’s mother, so their family trees intertwined. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Belmont blanched at the word “pleasant” but quickly assumed a smile. “Good afternoon, Lady Peake.” He inclined a bow. “My apologies for appearing without advance notice, but I am hoping that His Lordship or Her Ladyship might agree to meet with me about . . .” He blotted his forehead with the silk handkerchief clutched in his fingers. “About Peregrine.”
“Oh, dear, that sounds rather ominous,” replied the dowager.
“It’s more than ominous, milady. It’s a complete and utter disaster!” Belmont’s shoulders sagged. “He’s been expelled from Eton!”
“For what reason?” asked Alison.
“For setting off a noxious stink bomb in the Upper School during the Sabbath Day address to the students by the headmaster!”
The dowager and McClellan took great pains not to look at each other for fear of bursting into laughter. It was, they knew, not remotely funny if one was a stickler for the rules of such bastions of aristocratic pomp and privilege.
“Oh, dear,” repeated Alison, trying to sound shocked. “Alas, Lord Wrexford is away and won’t be returning until tomorrow at the earliest. And Lady Wrexford is in Cambridge. However, we expect her back by the end of the day.”
Belmont blew out a sigh of relief.
“Come, you must, of course, wait at the manor house. I’m sure you are tired from your journey and in need of some refreshment.” Alison regarded his wan face and added, “I daresay a wee dram of brandy would be welcome.”
“A wee dram would bemostwelcome,” mumbled Belmont.
“Then let us leave the boys to their mayhem and get you properly settled.”
CHAPTER 6
“Murdered!” exclaimed Wayland. “There must be some mistake!” He looked at his friends in mute appeal. “We all know that country coroners are notoriously uneducated and ill-trained.”
“In this case, the coroner was trained by a surgeon known for his skill in the mortuary arts as well as healing. In fact, he is a family friend, and I’m quite confident that any pupil of his will not have made a mistake as to the cause of death,” responded Charlotte. “And to be sure, our friend, who was a guest at the wedding, is having a look at the body as we speak.”
“Ye gods.” Garfield slumped back in his chair. “Why would anyone want to harm Jasper?”
“That is why we are here. We are hoping you might be able to help answer that question,” explained Cordelia. “You and your fellow members of the Revolutions-Per-Minute Society likely know him best. Please think—is there anyone who had reason to wish Jasper ill?”
“It could be a very personal grudge,” suggested Charlotte. “An unpaid debt, jealousy over a lady?”
The three men frowned in thought.
Wayland, however, took only a moment before answering. “I can’t think of any possible motive. Jasper was a quiet fellow who did little socializing. His work was his life.” He paused. “But then, your cousin knows him better than any of us. If there was some hidden trouble in Jasper’s life, he would be the one to be aware of it.”
“We look forward to hearing all that Oliver can tell us. But unfortunately, the bad weather and subsequent damage to the area’s roads appear to have stranded him somewhere. He never made it to the wedding,” explained Cordelia.
“Perhaps it would be wise to wait for him to arrive before making further inquiries,” suggested Wayland.
“In our experience, we’ve found that it’s best to move quickly in gathering evidence of a crime,” replied Cordelia.
Wayland raised his brows. “Yourexperience?”
When the only reply he received from Cordelia and Charlotte was an unflinching stare, he quickly cleared his throat with a cough. “But of course, if you think it best, we are happy to be as helpful as we can.” His gaze darted to Garfield. “Kendall?”
“I have to agree with Mercer. Jasper was a bit of a recluse. He really did seem to care more about numbers and abstract ideas than he did about people and parties,” responded Garfield after pinching at the pleat of his trousers. “However . . .”
