Page 14 of The Hazardous Measure of Love
‘So, he has a stronger motive than the two brothers immediately senior to him.’ Carola told me their names: Charles and Bertram, and I wrote all three on slips and added them to the Suspects board. ‘Oh dear. Who else is there?’
‘The sacked footman, Campbell,’ Luc said. ‘And the mysterious male bastard. But he cannot possibly inherit.’
Even so I addedMysterious Male Bastardto the board, frowned at it and amended it toMysterious Male Prescott offspring (barred from inheriting).
‘And Miss Jordan. I am certain she did not want to marry the Viscount.’ I thought about it a bit. ‘But I just cannot imagine her creeping in through the window with a bread knife.’
We all stood and looked at the boards, then sighed, more or less in unison.
‘I hate having Adrien up there,’ I said. ‘But, on the other hand, we can assess any circumstantial evidence against him and, if there is any suspicion cast on him, we will be in a good position to defend him.’
‘I will go and ask him to dinner.’ Luc stood up. ‘I imagine he needs to get out of that house for a while. Could someone lock up the boards in the study?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ I said.
Adrien met us in the hall of the Viscount’s house. He looked strained and about ten years older. ‘Dinner? Thank you, I would be exceedingly grateful. I cannot believe how much work is involved in a sudden death.’
‘There’s no need to change,’ Luc said. ‘Family only.’
Adrien smiled at the implication that he was family too, and I was more than ever desperate to take his name off the list of suspects. ‘That would be a relief – all my clothes are at my lodgings and I have the suspicion that, if I go home, I will just fall on the bed, close my eyes and sleep for a week.’
‘Are there no other members of the family close by who can assist you?’ I asked. ‘Your father has gone to Cambridge, but presumably your Uncle Horace and some of your cousins are still in London.’ I knew it was unlikely that any of the family had travelled on a Sunday.
‘Yes, they are all still in Town,’ he said. ‘But frankly, I don’t think they would be much help. By the time I had explained what needed doing it would be easier to do it myself.’ Someone rapped the door knocker and he turned with a sigh. ‘Now who is that?’
Grainger hurried past with a rapid bow to us and opened the door. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Jerald.’
The young man on the doorstep greeted him cheerfully and stepped in. ‘Is my – Ah, Adrien! And Lord Radcliffe.’ He blinked at us. ‘Ma’am, my apologies, I had just dropped in on the off-chance of finding Cousin Henry at home.’ He looked hopefully at Adrien.
Which one was this? He was younger than Adrien, hardly into his twenties, so he must be one of the sons of Horace Prescott. But why didn’t he know what had happened?
I looked at Adrien and saw a look of dawning horror on his face.
‘Why doesn’t he know?’ I whispered.
‘Oh hell,’ he muttered, then found a social smile from somewhere. ‘Miss Lawrence, this is my cousin Jerald Prescott. Jerald, Miss Lawrence, a guest of Lady Radcliffe. You cannot see Cousin Henry,’ he added, over Jerald bidding me a good afternoon.
‘He is out? That’s a pity. Look, be a good fellow and let me have a few sovs, will you? He promised me he’d lend me ten when I saw him on Saturday. You know how short the old man keeps me.’
‘Your Cousin Henry is dead,’ Luc said brutally.
Jerald laughed, then did an almost perfect double-take when he saw our faces. ‘Dead? How? Oh, the devil – a stroke like Uncle Clarence? They say they run in families…’ His voice trailed off and he sat down abruptly on one of the hard hall chairs. ‘When?’
‘Last night or early this morning,’ Adrien said. ‘We are not certain. There must be apost mortemexamination.’
‘At what time did you see him yesterday?’ Luc asked.
‘What?’ Jerald blinked up at us, then seemed to realise that he was sitting whilst a lady stood, and got to his feet. ‘To speak to? Middle of the morning in St James’s Street. I came out of that coffee house just down from Boodle’s and bumped into him as he was turning into Ryder Street.’ He gave a rather sickly smile. ‘Thought I’d touch him for a few sovs, you know how it is.’
‘No,’ Adrien said. ‘I don’t.’
His cousin flushed. ‘I think he had a soft spot for me because I’m the youngest.’
‘Rather, I suspect he did not want the family name connected with unpaid gambling debts.’ Adrien sounded about fifty and thoroughly judgmental.
‘Da – I mean, it isn’t so bad. But I lost a bit on that horse of his at Newmarket at the second Spring meeting.’
‘Yes, he did rather puff the beast off, didn’t he?’ Adrien said, with slightly more sympathy. ‘But I can’t give you anything: it is Cousin Frederick’s money now and besides, the study’s locked.’
