“Greydrake.” Jasper rocked back on his heels, eyes wide. How…. Why.... If…. “Then, you know—that is, Little Hook and you—” Jasper squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think. “Was everyone in the Greydrake family mad?”
“That depends on how you define madness,” Greydrake said, tone mild.
“I didn’t mean to voice that question,” Jasper admitted, only realizing he’d spoken aloud as Greydrake responded. “You knew what Madelina was doing?” Outrage stirred in him. “Do not tell me you encouraged her.”
Greydrake held up a hand, palm outward to ward off Jasper’s ire, hat and mask dangling from the other. “I did no such thing. She doesn’t know that I know, or that I’m Lefthook.”
“She just happened to follow your example, without realizing?” Jasper found that rather difficult to swallow.
“Aubrey Saint Lawrence pushed her.”
“And you let her?” Jasper asked with growing anger. “Madelina could have been hurt, or worse.”
“Has she been? Why do you believe she’s been taken by Madame Dequenne? How would you even know?” Greydrake shook his head, expression clouded with disbelief. “How long has she been missing? Her aunt has said nothing to me.”
“Four days, and Miss Saint Lawrence wouldn’t have. The madam—that is, Clementine—said not to go to you on pain of Madelina’s death.” And now Jasper had done just that. He suppressed a groan. Madelina’s training hadn’t put her in danger, he had. First by letting Clementine know he loved her, and now by going to Greydrake.
“Do you mean to tell me that your colleague, Miss Clementine White, is Madam Dequenne?” Greydrake’s question lashed out with sudden cold. “Explain yourself, Mclintock.”
Mimicking Greydrake’s earlier gesture, Jasper held out staying hands. “I didn’t know. On my honor. I didn’t know until after Clementine took her.” But if he’d listened to Madelina, believed her, he would have. Jasper scrubbed at the tension in his forehead. Voice almost a whisper, he repeated, “I didn’t know.” He cleared his throat and added, “She’s been Madam Dequenne this entire time. Or, nearly so. I’m not certain. Apparently, the title is passed down. She once worked for Madam Dequenne, but now she is Madam Dequenne.”
“Pass the title down?” Greydrake repeated, some of the anger draining from him. “So that’s how she’s been menacing London for over fifty years.”
Jasper nodded. “And we, at least I, have been looking for an old woman.” He grimaced. “Clementine encouraged that idea. She often told me that, when she was young, Madam Dequenne was already old.”
Greydrake studied him, expression inscrutable. “I believe you,” he finally said. “But why didn’t Miss Saint Lawrence come to me immediately?”
Jasper grimaced. “She seemed keen to have me tell you.”
“She is fond of her games.”
“At the expense of Madelina’s life?”
Greydrake’s expression grew contemplative. “Look, Mclintock, I don’t have all night. I have to search for Madelina, but if you’re going to be caught up in all this, if you’re going to marry my sister, there are some things which you must understand.”
Jasper nodded, caught by a mixture of anticipation and dread.
“First, I know all about Miss Saint Lawrence and the so-called training she and her former associates have given Madelina. For a time, I pretended I didn’t, but that time ended when my father died. I know what Madelina’s been up to and I’ve kept an eye on her, and Miss Saint Lawrence is aware of that.”
“So-called training?” Jasper interrupted. “I ask, again, why? Why would either of you push such ideas on a young woman? Especially one about whom you care?”
“Miss Saint Lawrence’s motives were simple. She trained Madelina to kill our father.”
Jasper gaped at him. “I-I thought he died of a sickness.”
“He did, and that’s when Miss Saint Lawrence asked to send my sister back to me. She would have cast Madelina from her, my sister’s usefulness at an end.”
Jasper paced away, through the rows of the dead, and back again. “Miss Saint Lawrence wanted to send Madelina away? Because your father died.” Confusion shifted through Jasper. “She hated your father. Didn’t she love Madelina?”
Greydrake’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “I’m not certain that woman is capable of love. I’m sure her lack of emotion recommended her in her youthful profession, but she didn’t likely make much of a mother.”
“Yet, you sent Madelina to her.”
“I was only seventeen when I convinced my father to send Madelina away, and I’d no idea, then, that Miss Saint Lawrence took her from school.” Greydrake’s voice cracked with anger.
Jasper took a step back. He’d never seen the marquess express such high emotion. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to accuse you.”
Greydrake sucked in a slow breath. “Let me start at the beginning of Madelina’s tale, and let me be brief.”
