The earl clenched his teeth in frustration.
“But I can give you a few samples of the traitor’s handwriting.”
Wrexford accepted the packet of papers with a curt thanks. “Is there any chance that I could contact the field officer?”
Dalambert’s expression hardened. “As to that, sir, I feel that I’ve done enough—”
“I hadn’t mentioned every detail, monsieur,” interjected von Münch. “Lord Wrexford’s brother died in the same ambush that caused Mr. Greeley’s horrific injuries.”
The Frenchman let out a reluctant sigh. “Give me a day or two. I make no promises, but if the man is willing to reveal the information, I’ll send word to you.”
“Thank you, monsieur,” replied the earl.
Dalambert gave a stiff nod. “I have done what my conscience says is right. However, I’m not comfortable answering further questions on French military matters, so please understand that I prefer not to meet again in person.”
“I think that is for the best.” Wrexford turned abruptly to the tree just behind him and pulled a knife from his boot. “I would also suggest that you make your inquiry very discreetly.”
He cut out the misshapen bullet that was buried chest-high in the wood and held it up to his companions. “And it would be wise of you to take precautions for your own safety until I am able to have the traitor apprehended.”
“Ach du lieber Gott,” rasped von Münch. “Had you not knocked us down, milord . . .”
Yes, one of you would be dead.
The Frenchman’s eyes widened in shock, but his only acknowledgment of the earl’s warning was a curt nod.
“Lastly, I would advise you to return to the festivities by circling back around the lake,” added the earl, “rather than taking the shorter way bordering Horse Guards Road.”
Dalambert turned on his heel and hurried away.
“Should I also return to the party, milord?” asked von Münch, once the sound of the Frenchman’s steps had died away.
Dark on dark, the shadows fluttered in the breeze. “I’d rather you stay with me. I’ll escort you to Carlton House, where you can summon a carriage to take you back to your lodgings.” Wrexford hesitated. “I would also suggest that you don’t go out alone at night from now on.” A pause. “In fact, it might be wise for you to return to the king’s palace in Württemberg.”
“You thinkmein danger?”
“Clearly, someone is willing to commit murder to prevent an old secret from coming to light. And it stands to reason that he knows of your involvement. So it’s safer—”
“Safety be damned!”
The librarian’s reaction took the earl by surprise.
“I may not have your military experience, milord. But I am not a craven coward who would crawl away just to save his own skin. I am part of this investigation, and I mean to help you see that justice is done.” Squaring his shoulders, von Münch added, “No matter the threat.”
“Your sentiments—and your courage—do you credit, Herr von Münch. But I’m not sure you truly comprehend the danger.”
The librarian gave a pointed look at the gash in the tree. “I think I do, Lord Wrexford. Besides, you could use my help in finding the missing manuscript.”
The librarian, Wrexford conceded, had shown himself to be highly intelligent and observant....
“Very well.” He expelled a sigh. “We need to fetch Lady Wrexford from the party and head to my townhouse on Berkeley Square. If you are going to be part of this investigation, you need to become acquainted with her.”
“S-Surely a countess is too . . .” A cough. “That is, a lady’s sensibilities tend to be rather, er, delicate for such dangerous endeavors.”
A smile touched Wrexford’s lips. “I suggest you refrain from forming any notions on feminine sensibilities until you meet my wife.”
CHAPTER 15
The ominous grey clouds of early morning were fast giving way to patches of cerulean blue sky. . . .
