“Not necessarily,” Denis said with an assuredness I did not share. “Search among Pickett’s connections, trace his movements, irritate people into confessing to you. I am confident you will accomplish your task in the end.”
“I am touched by your faith in my abilities.” I took another sip of brandy and changed the direction of the conversation. “What can you tell me about William Arthur? He accosted me outside the opera last night to demand I let you rot.”
Denis was not surprised by this revelation either. Doubtless his lackeys who kept an eye on things had told him of the encounter. “You need not concern yourself about Mr. Arthur. He will stay in his territory, and I in mine.”
My voice hardened. “The last time I was caught between you and a rival, he kidnapped my son.”
The tension in the room increased. I knew Denis had been unhappy at that turn of events, and it was the most likely reason he claimed my debt to him had been paid. “Mr. Creasey wildly overstepped himself, and he was a fool. Arthur is much more canny and understands how powerful your wife’s family is. There will be no repeat of what happened with Creasey. Arthur will not use others to get to you.”
“Excellent. He will come at me directly, then.”
Denis shook his head. “He will leave you alone now that I am home. It is another reason I was in a hurry to be released—there are those who highly desire to take my place. I advise you to be guarded while you are out, as usual, but do not let Arthur concern you.”
“My life was much safer before I came involved with you,” I observed. “My own fault, I know.”
“It was not safer.” Denis pulled the pages toward him, a signal he wished the interview to end. “You are simply now more aware of the perils of living away from the Army.”
I rose as Denis returned his concentration to his papers. “I laugh to remember that I thought coming to London would give me a modicum of peace.” I took one last drink of the brandy, which was too good to waste, and made for the door.
At the last moment, I turned back. “You were quite intrigued by Lady,” I remarked. “You took off your hat.”
Denis’s gaze turned ice-cold. “I can manage to be polite when it suits me,” he said coolly. “Good day, Captain.”
How I would keep the information about Haywood freeing Denis from Grenville, I did not know, I reflected as I walked home, Brewster accompanying me in silence. If we found the true killer soon, the issue of Haywood would become irrelevant, but I was beginning to despair of solving this puzzle.
Anyone from a footpad to Haywood’s brother, the Earl of Shawbury, for whatever reason, could have murdered Pickett and left him in Seven Dials.
Additionally, my speculations about Pickett’s dry clothing might be entirely wrong. Pickett could very well have taken himself to Seven Dials and met his death there, keeping himself out of the rain as much as possible in the process.
When I reached home, I only had time to jot a few notes about what Denis and I had discussed before dressing for the evening. I wasn’t certain what a gentleman wore to a midnight meeting of a secret society but decided my suit for the soiree would have to do.
I escorted Donata alone that evening, as Gabriella had spent the afternoon with Lady Aline, and she and Aline would meet us at the gathering.
I would encourage Gabriella to stay with Aline again tonight. In spite of Denis’s assurances that Mr. Arthur would fade back into the shadows, I felt Gabriella would be safer in Aline’s home. Her servants guarded the place better than sentries looking after the Crown Jewels. If Donata’s family was powerful, Aline’s was even more so.
I related my conversation with Denis regarding Lady as Donata and I rode the short distance to Grosvenor Square.
“I am glad he agreed to help,” Donata said as the carriage creaked along the line of coaches to our host’s front door. “He will have connections that we do not.”
“You seem happier with Denis now,” I observed. “Have you thawed to him at last?” When Mr. Creasey had put Peter in danger, Donata had squarely blamed Denis. She’d frozen him out as only Donata could.
“Not at all.” The feathers on Donata’s turban trembled. “I can acknowledge that Mr. Denis is helpful when he wishes to be without speaking to him or greeting him.”
“You would give him the cut direct, in other words.”
“Indeed.”
“I do hope you never have cause to give me the cut direct,” I said lightly. “I can see it would be quite painful.”
Donata smiled, which softened her eyes, and she touched my cheek. “So far, you have done nothing to warrant it. But we are both fairly young, so who knows what may happen in the future?”
The carriage halted abruptly at the door of the lit-up mansion, and a footman opened the door, ending our unnerving conversation.
The soiree was crowded, and I quickly lost sight of my wife, who was swept into a group of ladies who closed around her with glee. Nor was I able to get near Gabriella and Aline when they arrived.
I spent my time in the card room full of gentlemen and smoke, where I played cautiously. I won a few guineas and lost them again, but as long as I was in balance when I finished, I was content.
At eleven, many of the soiree guests moved on to the theatre in Drury Lane. I was up another guinea at cards, so I took my small winnings and bade my fellow players good night.
