Page 16 of The Hazardous Measure of Love
‘Get me out of this garment,’ I gasped, struggling with tapes, hooks and a pin which, naturally, found the end of my thumb. ‘Ouch!’
Never say that the Earl of Radcliffe is slow in a crisis. He picked me up bodily, dropped me on the bed, threw up my skirts and pounced. ‘The problem with women’s clothes in your time,’ he said, somewhat muffled by fabric, ‘Is the underwear.’ A pair of very modern undies flew through the air. ‘It is much more satisfactory in my time.’
I had to agree. There are times when rapid access is highly desirable…
Chapter Five
We arrived downstairs for dinner appearing, I hoped, cool, calm, collected and elegant. James took one look at us and sniggered.
I went over to him where he stood with one foot on the fender, surveying the drawing room. ‘And right back at you,’ I murmured. ‘I assume you and Kit are staying in Albany? Even the five-minute walk hasn’t taken the colour out of your cheeks.’
He had taken over Luc’s set of rooms at the exclusive gentlemen’s residence off Piccadilly, although he and Kit spent most of their time in Leicestershire. I did actually succeed in making him blush but, before I could embark on any more teasing, Garrick and Carola came in, closely followed by Lady Radcliffe. A moment later and Adrien was announced.
We had a civilised half hour before dinner, talking of anything but the murder in the neighbourhood, then went through to the Small Dining Room (that’s the one about the same size as my flat) where the circular table had been set up.
‘Thank you, Wilkins,’ Lady Radcliffe said when the soup had been served. ‘We will ring.’ When the footmen had filed out after the butler, she looked around the table. ‘This is a very bad business. What happens now?’
‘I found my Uncle Horace and my cousins at home. They are very much shocked, of course and are making plans to pack up and return to Buckinghamshire in the morning. The doctor has removed… That is, my cousin’s body is with the doctor. I imagine we will hear tomorrow if there is anything he can tell us in advance of the inquest,’ Adrien said. ‘My father should return in time for that, with my cousin Frederick’s instructions for the funeral and some indication of how I am to proceed with the administration of business.’
‘We saw Adrien’s younger cousin, Jerald Prescott,’ Luc told the others. ‘He mentioned another suspect.’ We recounted Jerald’s tale about the fiery Madame Vaillant and my thoughts on her likelihood as the perpetrator of such a silent, efficient killing. No one disagreed with my suspicions that her apparent uncontrolled fury might conceal a colder, more thoughtful plan for revenge, although Adrien, who, of course, knew the lady, looked doubtful.
‘Do many members of your family live in London?’ I asked Adrien, thinking to steer the conversation away from the actual murder for a while.
‘My father rarely comes up, and when he does, he stays at the house in Upper Wimpole Street that he shares with Uncle Horace, who does the same with his family when they visit. My married brothers, Charles and Marcus, live in Buckinghamshire too and Bertram, he is the one immediately before me, is betrothed and lives with our father at present. All of them would use the Upper Wimpole Street house when in Town. And Uncle Frederick, of course, lives in his college in Cambridge and rarely stirs from there.’
‘They wouldn’t expect to stay with Lord Tillingham, then?’
‘If Mama and Papa, or Aunt Harriet and Uncle Horace come up to Town for more than a few days, then I would expect Cousin Henry to put them up. He rather enjoys… enjoyed, being head of the family, you know.’
‘Gathering the clan about him?’
‘Exactly.’ Adrien flashed me a smile. ‘He could be rather ponderous that way.’
Lady Radcliffe rang for service and the soup bowls were cleared and a fricassee, some poached fish and a dish of collops of veal set out on the table, along with the accompanying sauces and vegetables.
I always had to spend extra time running, or down at the police station dojo, to work off the effects of Georgian cuisine. Goodness knows why everyone wasn’t enormous.
It was nice being here with the family, but I rather missed the evenings in Albany when I had taught Garrick some twenty first century recipes and Luc and James had mucked in preparing veg and stirring pots and we’d eaten with elbows on the kitchen table swapping ideas, sharing thoughts about the current problem.
* * *
I said the same thing to Luc as I followed him upstairs at the end of the evening. Garrick and Carola had gone to their apartment an hour ago, Adrien had returned to Lord Tillingham’s house in the hope his presence might keep the servants calmer and I was longing for my bed. Travelling through time takes a great deal of energy and I couldn’t believe so much had happened since I had landed in James’s arms on the terrace that morning.
Luc turned aside to go to the boys’ room and I watched from the doorway as he bent to kiss each tousled head. It hurt to see the twins, to know that Luc and I were never going to share children. I knew the boys liked me and I played and talked with them, but I always kept a certain distance – a friend of the family, not an honorary aunt. The feminine influence in their lives was their grandmother and, however much I coveted them, I knew I had to stay remote.
Luc wanted us to marry, but he had accepted that I could not be a countess on a part-time basis, or leave my family and my own time for ever. Nor could I see how his new-found ability to join me made any difference. He couldn’t move times either.
He raised an eyebrow when he turned and I found a smile. He understood how I felt and we had tacitly agreed not to discuss it. I told myself that many couples were forced apart for long periods by their work and that this was no different.
‘I’m tired,’ I confessed. ‘Come to bed.’
‘Yours?’
I nodded, yawning. Luc, far more of an early bird than I am, could be the one to get up at crack of dawn, safely before the scullery maid crept out of her bed to stoke up the kitchen range and the household began to stir. Lady Radcliffe might know perfectly well what our relationship was, but it would have been ill-mannered to flaunt it in front of the staff.
We fell into the depth of the feather bed, fought our way through its billows and hollows into each other’s arms and dropped off to sleep almost immediately. If I dreamt of dead viscounts, I do not remember.
* * *
