“Very well.” Yet von Münch hesitated a moment longer before going on. “Have you considered that your government might be involved?”
Wrexford gave a mirthless laugh. “Actually, I’m several steps ahead of you on that discovery. I was summoned to meet with Lord Grentham’s top operative earlier today.” A pause. “I’m surprised you didn’t come along and eavesdrop.”
“Grentham,” mused von Münch, ignoring the earl’s sarcasm. “He is not a man with whom to trifle.”
“I’m well aware of that,” said the earl. “What’s your point?”
“I simply wish to reiterate that the movement of raw materials and manufactured goods has huge economic implications, both locally and globally,” answered von Münch. “Any country possessing a way to increase its share of the market would naturally be loath to share that method with its competitors.”
“Ideas and innovations are not like some exotic djinn that can be kept corked in a bottle,” pointed out Wrexford. “Patents are issued, allowing inventors to sell their discoveries to those willing to pay a licensing fee. Technology is shared—”
“Yes, but there are certain innovations that governments try very hard to keep as proprietary information. Military weapons, for example,” interjected von Münch. “Things that will alter the balance of economic power are also of grave concern, especially for Britain, as trade is the lifeblood of its global empire.”
He looked around before continuing. “His duties to king and country require Grentham to think in terms of black and white, rather than subtle shades of grey. Which is to say, be careful, milord. For whatever reason, it’s my sense that the members of your government have decided that it is in their best interests for Milton’s innovation to be a secret known only to Britain.”
“Assuming that we find the cursed innovation,” muttered Wrexford. “But thank you for the warning. I am not so naïve as to think my title or position in Society will protect me if Grentham believes that I am a threat to the greater good of the nation.”
“Then I have said enough.” After touching the brim of his hat in silent salute, von Münch slipped away through a narrow gap between the buildings without further ado.
* * *
Charlotte put the finishing color highlights on her satirical drawing and rolled it in a length of protective oilskin. Raven would deliver it once darkness settled over the city.
Realizing that she hadn’t had a bite to eat since breakfast, she quickly cleaned her brushes and made her way down to the kitchen, where the ambrosial scent of baking biscuits perfumed the air with a sugary sweetness.
“I hope those aren’t all promised to the Weasels,” called Charlotte, knowing the boys would soon be done with their lessons.
McClellan poked her head out from one of the pantries. “I think they can be convinced to share.” She emerged carrying a sack of flour, her face ghostly pale from a dusting of its contents. “However, you need more sustenance than ginger biscuits. I’ll fix you a collation of fresh bread and roast beef.”
Charlotte poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the hob and added a splash of cream while the maid prepared a plate of food.
“Ah, here you are.” Cordelia entered the kitchen area several minutes later and paused for an appreciative sniff. “Lud, that smells divine. Might I take a plate of those marvelous biscuits back to mademoiselle and Oliver? They refused to interrupt their work to come with me for some refreshments.”
“Solving a murder takes precedence over hungry Weasels,” replied McClellan with a smile. “You may take these, and I will bake a second batch for the boys.” She cut off several extra slices of roast beef and made up a second plate. “Sit and join m’lady in having some proper food. I’ll bring a tray of hearty fare up to the others shortly, along with the biscuits.”
“Bless you.” Cordelia took a seat at the center table after helping herself to a mug of coffee.
“How is the work going?” asked Charlotte after sitting down beside her.
“It’s actually fascinating! Mathematics never ceases to amaze and delight me. It explains so much about our world and how it works,” replied Cordelia. “I have just been reading about some of the mathematics relevant to bridge design. There is very interesting work being done on how to model the ability of a surface to return to its original form after experiencing vibration or other effects of stress. And that may prove very important in determining the structural stability of a bridge.”
“Good heavens, what causes something as large as a bridge to vibrate?” exclaimed McClellan.
“Wind,” answered Cordelia. “Or, even more importantly, the type of traffic moving over it. There was an incident on the Continent where a bridge collapsed when an army was crossing it on foot. Some mathematicians think that it was because the soldiers were marching in lockstep to their drummer, which created a destructive level of vibration.”
“And you are saying that mathematics can help avoid such calamities?” said Charlotte.
“It may be difficult to comprehend how abstract theory can have such momentous practical applications. But as Oliver indicated earlier, he suspects that Jasper Milton was working with the calculus of variations, and he thinks there is reason to believe that such mathematics would be well suited to predicting which designs would minimize the stresses that seem to cause these disasters.”
Cordelia drew in a deep breath. “So to answer your question, yes—Jasper may indeed have discovered the key to revolutionizing bridge building, allowing a structure to be both longer and safer.”
After taking a bite of her bread, she frowned in thought as she swallowed. “But let us put abstractions aside for the moment. Mademoiselle Benoit told me something very odd just now.”
“Oh?” Charlotte put down her cup.
“I was pressing her and Oliver about Jasper’s stay in Paris,” continued Cordelia. “I asked them to think hard about any conversations they might have overheard between Jasper and the radicals, and to try to recall whether there was anything unusual or unexpected that might give us a clue as to Jasper’s murder.”
She swirled the coffee in her cup. “At first, they insisted that there was nothing. But then mademoiselle allowed that she had heard Jasper mention ‘Eton’ several times during a clandestine conversation with Montaigne.”
