The earl shrugged. “The mysteries of the physical world and its forces are not within my scope of studies.”
“That is all fascinating and offers exciting possibilities for the future,” observed Charlotte. “I must do some research on the subject and produce a series of drawings to alert the public to yet more momentous changes about to alter the world as they know it.”
“Indeed, change is marching along at a dizzying pace,” observed Wrexford. “But however intriguing the future is, let us step back to the present, and the mystery that currently faces us.”
“Sorry, I get carried away when I start to think of all the ways to improve the movement of people and goods that will make the world a better place,” apologized Sheffield. “Faster delivery of goods will stimulate the economy, workers will have more opportunity to find higher-paying jobs because they can afford to move to where their skills are needed. Communication is also important, and the mail will not be so erratic.” Catching Cordelia’s glance, he paused and blew out his breath. “But I will stop pontificating.”
Silence settled over the room.
Finding the first thread to follow is always the hardest part of untangling all the motives and passions that cause a crime, reflected Wrexford. Truth rarely revealed itself easily.
A glance around at the grim faces showed that they, too, understood the coming investigation would demand sacrifice. And likely cause pain.
“So far, Milton’s note seems to be the one tangible clue we have.” It was Sheffield who first ventured to speak. “That he mentions a connection made in France stirs some initial questions,” he pointed out. “The fact that a man appeared from the woods and hurled a warning note at Raven and Hawk which was partly written in French can’t simply be coincidence.”
“That would seem to make sense,” replied Charlotte. “But how do the two things tie together? Was the intruder who entered Cordelia’s rooms Milton’s French connection? And was the man who threw the note a friend or a foe of the intruder?”
“Or was the intruder Milton’s murderer?” suggested Sheffield.
“All good questions,” muttered Wrexford. “However, it’s a waste of time to speculate on the answers. Yes, we have two clues that point to a connection with France. But whether or not they are related remains to be seen.”
“Actually, there arethreeclues,” said Charlotte. “At our meeting with Milton’s fellow society members, one of them mentioned that Cordelia’s cousin said the members of the Parisian scientific society seemed particularly interested in coaxing Milton into giving them details about his latest work on bridges.”
At the reminder of her cousin’s close friendship with Milton, Cordelia suddenly let out a gasp. “Good God, another thought has just occurred to me.” Her face lost all vestige of color. “We know that Jasper was murdered . . . and Oliver is still missing. Wheeler’s information about the quarrel suggested one terrible reason for that. But what if the reason is worse and he, too has been—”
Sheffield drew her close and touched a comforting caress to her cheek. “Let us not jump to conclusions, sweeting.”
“But if he’s not injured . . . or worse, we should have heard from him by now,” she countered.
“Not necessarily,” said Wrexford. “Mr. Whalley told us that in some of the smaller valleys to the north, the roads were entirely washed away. It could take several more days before any communication is restored.”
Cordelia didn’t offer further argument, but her face remained shadowed by doubt.
“To return to Charlotte’s point,” he continued, “the fact that Milton and Carrick were in Paris for a symposium hosted by the French scientific society does seem to be the most solid clue of the three.”
“So what are you suggesting?” asked Sheffield.
“That the logical place to start is in London, where according to Milton’s colleagues, the Parisian scientific society will be arriving soon to attend an international conference on improving transportation, hosted by the Royal Institution. With Europe now at peace, there is much excitement over the possibilities of connecting all the nations together in bold new ways.”
Cordelia lifted her shoulders in apology. “I’m so sorry for upending your plans for an interlude of peace and quiet in the country.”
“Don’t fret—the idea of peace and quiet flew out the window earlier today with the unexpected arrival of Peregrine,” responded Charlotte with a smile, and then quickly explained about the boy’s expulsion from Eton and his new position as an official member of the family.
* * *
“Why, that’s wonderful news!” exclaimed Cordelia.
“Yes, a welcome ray of light in the muddled darkness cast by murder,” said Charlotte. “We must keep reminding ourselves that the joys of love and friendship are why we battle so fiercely against Evil.”
“There are some estate matters that I must attend to over the next several days, but we shall plan on returning to Town immediately after they are done,” offered Wrexford. “Baz will return from the inquest tomorrow, and he will escort Alison back to Mayfair so that she can attend Sir Robert’s gala birthday celebration before joining her friend, the dowager Marchioness of Harkness, for a country house party. And then he is taking a short trip to Tunbridge Wells to advise a friend who wishes to set up a clinic for soldiers returning from Europe.”
“Life must go on in the face of death,” mused Cordelia.
“Indeed,” agreed Charlotte, though she wished that the Grim Reaper’s shadow would not darken their days so frequently.
“We, too, will be spending some days in the country before heading back to London,” said Sheffield. “My father has asked for us to meet with him at the estate he gave us as a wedding gift in order to introduce us to the estate manager and tenant farmers.”
He smiled. “Although I think the real reason is that he wishes to ask Cordelia more questions about her views on the growth of international commerce and what areas might offer savvy investment opportunities.”
