Honesty compelled her to remain silent.
“My late husband possessed a very handsome sword cane, and when I broached the idea to the boys about learning a few basic tricks to fend off an attack—”
“We thought it an excellent idea,” finished Raven. “So we taught Aunt Alison a few fencing moves.” He lifted his chin. “Haven’t you often said that a lady ought to know how to defend herself?”
Charlotte heaved an inward sigh, ruing the boy’s batlike hearing.
“Aunt Alison is stronger and more agile than you might think,” added Hawk.
“Indeed, we all think of Alison as invincible, sweeting,” replied Charlotte. She looked around, letting the words assume a certain gravitas. “But had her captor been Jarvis, rather than Taviot, things might have turned out differently.”
“I am aware of that,” said the dowager softly. She let out a sigh as she looked down at her hands, as if realizing how frail they looked upon the smoke-blue silk. “Charlotte is right to remind all of us that hubris is dangerous.”
“Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,” intoned Henning.
“Ye gods, Baz, since when have you started spouting proverbs from the Bible?” drawled Wrexford.
Rather than respond with his usual sarcasm, the surgeon looked thoughtful. “As nearly all the seven deadly sins were involved in this investigation, it seemed appropriate. Pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony for power—the three Taviot siblings lie dead because of them. As for Jarvis, his wickedness was of truly biblical proportions.”
He took a swallow of whisky. “As Charlotte said, we were lucky.”
It was Alison who broke the ensuing pensive silence with a muffledtap-tapof her cane—one that didn’t contain a lethal weapon. “Now that we have all been cautioned about avoiding the danger of hubris, I say we put aside talk of darkness for brighter thoughts.”
“Indeed.” Charlotte rose and hurried to ring the silver bell on the sideboard. “Let us count our blessings, for we have much to celebrate.”
The door flew open, and one of the footmen rolled in a trolley shimmering with crystal goblets filled with sparkling champagne from the adjoining salon. She plucked up a glass and raised it to catch the sunlight. “To Cordelia and Kit. And the myriad good things that lie ahead for them—and all of us.”
In the blink of an eye, the room was fizzing with good cheer.Laughter, hugs, good-natured teasing—Charlotte looked around, the tears beading her lashes now ones of joy rather than fear.
Wrexford came up beside her and smiled. Their fingers twined together in a quick embrace, the fleeting touch far more eloquent than any words.
A discreet cough from Riche cut through the giggling of the boys as McClellan permitted them each to have a half glass of champagne. “Milord and milady, Mr. Griffin is here in the corridor. Shall I—”
“By all means, show him in,” said Wrexford. To Charlotte, he added, “I thought it only right that we invite him to partake in the festivities.”
“I’m glad that you did.” Charlotte smiled and hurried to greet the Runner.
Her heartfelt hug seemed to fluster him. “Forgive me,” he said. “I seem to be interrupting a private gathering.”
“Not at all. We wanted you to share in the celebration. Your efforts were invaluable in helping to ensure that justice prevailed in this investigation,” she responded. “Though I fear that you may not always approve of our unorthodox methods.”
“If that were true, it would be very ungentlemanly of me to say so,” said the Runner, a twinkle lighting his eyes.
“Besides, we make him smell like roses to his superiors,” said Wrexford, handing Griffin a goblet of champagne.
The Runner chuckled. “The scent of success is all very well, milord. But it pains me that we didn’t enjoy nearly enough suppers together during our quest to solve this particular tangle of crimes.”
“I am more than making it up by serving you a very expensive champagne,” responded Wrexford. His expression then turned serious. “I hope that in addition to availing yourself of my food and drink, you have also come here to tell us that Jarvis is locked up in a cell at Newgate.”
“I have, milord.” Griffin took an appreciative sip of the wine. “And just so you know, I’ve been assured by the highest authorities that the dastard won’t be leaving his cell until the day that he makes his final walk to the gallows.”
Wrexford gave a gruff nod, indicating that he understood the oblique message from Grentham and the government that the traitorous eel wouldn’t wriggle out of paying the ultimate price for his crimes.
“So, justice has been done,” finished the Runner. “I hope you feel some measure of . . .” He paused, searching for the right word. “Resolution, perhaps?”
The earl considered the question. “A malignant force has been excised from society. That is a good thing.”
“I still do not quite understand all the circumstances that brought Taviot and his sister to such an ugly end,” mused Griffin.
