“Yes, he can’t follow the same rules as the Weasels,” replied Charlotte. “But I think all three of them know that already.”
A loudhalloofrom the front of the townhouse announced that Raven had also returned. The echo of Cordelia’s voice followed, which in the next instant was swallowed by Henning’s rough-cut rumbling.
“Excellent, it appears that all our friends have arrived,” said Charlotte. “I’ve sent Mac to bring several pots of coffee and a platter of ginger biscuits from the kitchen. Once everyone is settled, we’ll tell them the news.”
The messengers had been instructed to reveal nothing about the reason for the gathering, save to say it was a matter of great urgency. But Wrexford imagined that their friends could all guess why they had been summoned.
“So, who is the bloody bastard?” demanded Henning as he shuffled to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of whisky.
“Sit down, Baz,” ordered the earl. “So we may get started.”
“In that case, I will bring the bottle with me.”
Cordelia looked flustered as she shrugged off her pelisse and tossed it on the back work counter. “I’m sorry, Wrex, but Kit hasn’t returned from a meeting. Raven and I left word at his lodgings to join us here.”
“A meeting with whom?” asked Wrexford.
“The note that he sent to me earlier this morning didn’t say.” However, the dangerous glitter in her eyes warned that she had her suspicions.
Damnation. He hoped Sheffield wasn’t playing with fire. Making a deal with the devil without telling her would likely consign their engagement to the flames.
Poof—and then naught but a pile of ashes.
Not to speak of the other dangers to their friend if he had allied himself with Taviot.
Raven and Hawk, shadowed by Peregrine, took the opportunity to slip into the shadows by the library door and take a seat on the carpet as the others all settled themselves in the armchairs near the hearth.
McClellan trundled in with the coffee pot and biscuits. “Go ahead and begin, milord. I’ll be back in a trice with some cups and saucers.”
The earl rose. The room fell silent, and as he clicked the lid to his pistol case shut the sound reverberated like a gunshot off the wainscoting.
“As you all know, we’ve been struggling to untangle two conundrums and their ramifications. The first is, who murdered Neville Greeley and why?” He paused. “And the second is, who is responsible for skullduggery surrounding the race to create an oceangoing propulsion system?”
“Isn’t there also a mysterious manuscript that has gone missing?” queried the dowager. “And aren’t we wondering whether it is the thread that ties all these crimes together?”
Henning let out a rusty chuckle and raised his glass in salute. “Never let it be said that age inexorably steals all one’s marbles.”
“You’re right, Alison,” said Charlotte. “We know that a manuscript entitledNihil Est Quod Hominum Efficere Non Possitwas stolen from Greeley on the night of the murder. As for whether it ties into marine propulsion, we’re hoping that Cordelia can help discern the answer—”
“You’ve found it?” exclaimed Cordelia.
“We have,” answered Wrexford. He stepped back as McClellan returned with a tray of china and smoothly plucked it from her grasp. After carrying it to the counter, he circled back to his desk and resumed where he had left off.
“As Charlotte said, we hope that Cordelia can enlighten us on whether the manuscript holds any keys to unlocking the secrets of ocean travel. However, momentous though that answer may be, it now may be a moot point. The investigation into Greeley’s murder uncovered evidence of another terrible crime, one from the past that provides a strong motive for wanting Greeley dead . . .”
Wrexford could feel all eyes on him. “We now have reason to believe that all the misdeeds of our two separate investigations are the work of one monstrous villain. And I now know who that villain is.”
The name stuck for an instant in his throat. “The Earl of Taviot—”
A suddencrackcut him off as a pile of saucers slipped through McClellan’s fingers and fell to the countertop, shattering into a myriad pieces.
“F-Forgive me.” The maid began gathering up the shards but let them fall for a second time as Charlotte swept in and took hold of her arm.
“Enough shilly-shallying, Mac!” Charlotte led her to one of the armchairs and ordered her to sit. “Whatever dark secret you are keeping from us, the time has come to share it.”
CHAPTER 19
Shoulders slumping, McClellan gave a reluctant nod. “Aye.”
