“Correct,” said von Münch. “That is why Prince William asked me to return to London, as we’ve heard rumors about such a possibility.”
“Then it would seem,” interjected Charlotte, “that we are once again aligned on the same side.”
“I would hope so, milady.”
Trust.Aware of what a slippery concept it was, Wrexford took several moments to parse through all the nuances of what had—and had not—been said. “Then I shall lay our cards on the table,” he announced abruptly. “And expect you to do the same.”
A solemn bow. “You have my word on it, milord.”
“We have reason to believe that Milton meant to give his innovation for bridge building to the French radicals,” explained the earl, “who in turn intended to sell it to the tsar of Russia for a king’s ransom. The radicals then planned to use the money to help fund Napoleon’s escape from Elba so that he might rally France around him and return to the throne.”
“I feared as much,” muttered von Münch. “How did you uncover all this information?”
Wrexford quickly launched into the full explanation.The confrontations with Garfield and Wayland . . . the suspicions about Mademoiselle Benoit . . . the surveillance which led them to Mrs. Guppy . . . Carrick’s eyewitness account of the murder . . .
“Ye gods, it is truly a plot worthy of a horror novel,” murmured von Münch.
“Alas, the threat is all too real,” responded Charlotte. “There are still some missing pieces to the puzzle. And several clues that just don’t seem to fit in, no matter how we try to find a place for them.”
“Perhaps I can be of help in solving some of those conundrums,” said von Münch after hitching an apologetic shrug. “To begin with, I was the intruder in your manor house on the night before the wedding—”
Cordelia uttered a very unladylike oath.
“You have every right to be angry, Mrs. Sheffield. But I had reason to think that Milton had sent you his papers for safekeeping. I had searched his quarters earlier that week—very carefully, I might add. But apparently so did someone else who was far less skilled. And so Milton was suspicious and became even more secretive about his work. When I bribed the local postmistress, I learned that he had sent you a package.”
“It was merely a letter telling me he was worried that someone was trying to steal his new discovery,” replied Cordelia. “And you need not bother asking me what it was. I have no idea, other than it’s some sort of revolutionary innovation for building bridges.”
“I still cannot fathom how a single innovation can revolutionize a structure that has been around since time immemorial,” mused Sheffield.
“An excellent observation,” conceded von Münch. “I have no answer for you.”
“Perhaps Oliver can give us an explanation,” suggested Cordelia. “The whole reason he and Jasper founded the Revolutions-Per-Minute Society was because they had a vision for changing the age-old ways of moving people and goods from place to place.”
“Innovation in transportation is moving with frightening speed,” observed Charlotte. “Only look at all the momentous changes we have seen in the space of a few short years. Hedley’s Puffing Billy, which runs on roads made of steel rails, boats powered by steam-driven propellers . . . why, people are even beginning to talk of how to control the flight of balloons and travel through the air!”
The import of what she had just said made her stop and think. “Our world is changing right before our eyes in ways that would seem inconceivable to our forebearers.” A sigh. “It frightens many people.”
Wrexford picked up a pencil and rolled it between his palms. “As was said in one of the tales fromThe Arabian Nights’ Entertainment, once a djinn is let out of a bottle, it is impossible to put it back and replace the cork. But disagreement over whether something new is good or evil is often the catalyst for Progress.”
A thoughtful silence settled over the room. Cordelia closed her eyes and nestled closer to Sheffield. Henning rose and poured himself another glass of whisky.
“Speaking of corks, milord,” murmured von Münch. “Might my appearance here, just as I promised, merit uncorking one of your fine German wines?”
“I suppose you have earned it,” replied Wrexford, though he wasn’t convinced that von Münch had been entirely truthful with them. He paid a quick visit to his wine cellar and returned with a superb bottle from the Rheingau.
After imbibing a glass, von Münch cleared up the confusion as to several of the other incidents that had puzzled Wrex and Charlotte.
“I confess, I was also the man who threw the rock at Raven and Hawk with the note written half in French. As I mentioned earlier, I suspected the French were up to no good, and knowing your skills in solving complicated mysteries, I wished to point your attention to the French scientific delegation in hopes that you would ferret out any suspicious activity among its members.”
Wrexford acknowledged the admission with a gruff nod. He also surmised that von Münch had been Charlotte’s guardian angel on the night she had been attacked in the alleyway, but he refrained from asking. He suspected that their friend was observant enough to have guessed that she was one of the urchins who had participated in their previous investigation. Whether von Münch had also figured out her other persona—
His brooding was suddenly interrupted as Riche, their normally unflappable butler, threw open the door without knocking.
“Forgive me, milord, but Mr. Griffin is at the front entrance and has a carriage waiting. He says that he needs for you to come with him. It is a matter of great urgency.”
CHAPTER 25
Wrexford swore under his breath but felt compelled to oblige. Griffin was not one for histrionics. “Given the lateness of the hour and all that has happened, I suggest that you send word to Carrick and his friends and delay our meeting,” he said to Charlotte. “I have no idea when I might return.”
