Page 6 of Nature of the Crime
The kitchen door swung on its hinges, and Basil appeared. His brow was furrowed, and his lips were parted as if about to launch into a tirade against Sir.
Hugh held up a hand. “All is well. And please, by god, no more of your bitter brew.”
“There has been a messenger, my lord,” he said quickly.
“A messenger?” Hugh glimpsed the clock in the corner of the room. “At this hour?” It was well on to one in the morning.
Basil’s coloring looked a bit off. “A servant from the Duke of Fournier’s household.”
Hugh stepped forward, concern tolling through him. “What has happened?”
He didn’t want to know and yet could not breathe again until he did.
“His Grace has requested that you be ready to leave for Dover at the top of the hour. His coach will collect you.”
Dover?There could be no reason to depart for the port at this hour unless it was for something urgent.
“Damn it, Basil, tell me what you know,” he growled. His valet pressed his lips thinly and flared his nostrils whenever he was withholding something, both of which he was doing right then.
“The dowager duchess is in trouble. She has been taken into custody for a murder.”
Chapter
Three
In the corner of the packet office, Greer and Carrigan stood in hushed conversation. Audrey’s maid had let out a soft cry of relief earlier when they had met with Carrigan and Travers on the dock, after being escorted from the packet ship. After the captain informed them that a man had been killed, they’d been terrified the victim was Carrigan or Travers. But the driver and footman were just fine, and just as perplexed as the rest of them as to why Audrey had been detained. Accused of murder? It was absurd!
The captain led them to the packet office near the docks, where they had been instructed to sit and wait for the local magistrate to arrive. None of Audrey’s questions had been answered, including the question of who she had supposedly killed. Tasked with watching them and making sure Audrey did not leave Dover, like the rest of the passengers seemed to be doing, a few crew members from theBritanniaremained posted at the door. Only after much persuasion from Cassie, they allowed Travers to depart from Dover with most of their luggage. Travers also had instruction to tell the duke of their plight as soon as he reached London. If Audrey was truly to be accused of some crime, she needed assistance.
“Should we also send for Lord Neatham?” Cassie had said cautiously as Greer and Ruth helped direct Travers as to which luggage could be removed to London and which needed to stay with the ladies.
Audrey understood why she’d suggest it; Hugh had been a principal officer at Bow Street, and he would surely know how to deal with this situation. However, she had shaken her head tightly. “That isn’t necessary. Michael is a duke. He will set things right.”
Besides, to call upon Hugh for assistance after not hearing from him for so long would be too strange. And what if… Her chest cramped. What if he did not come?
To avoid finding out the answer, she had sent Travers on with his task. That had been well over an hour ago. Audrey’s backside ached from sitting upon the wooden bench inside the office, her eyes skipping toward the clock behind the ticket counter, and then toward the door, again and again. It was near to eight o’clock. Travers would not arrive at Grosvenor Square until after midnight, and that was only if the road between Dover and London was easy to traverse. Being January, the snow and ice could slow his hired coach by hours. Then, depending upon when Michael departed, it would take another six or seven hours for him to reach Dover. And outside, the pewter sky promised snow. Perhaps he would be delayed even longer.
“This is asinine,” Cassie said, not for the first time. The statement had been bandied about since they’d been escorted from the ship.
Audrey cut her eyes away from her maid and Carrigan. The two had been restrained about their growing affection for one another these last many months. Both were over thirty years of age, and both had been in the employ of the Fournier family for at least a decade. That they had known one another for that long made Audrey wonder if they had only recently discoveredmutual feelings or if they had been dancing around them for some time. Whatever the case, she was happy for Greer. A lady’s maid was generally an unmarried woman, as her daily life was so bound to her mistress. Firmly on the shelf, Greer had seemed completely at ease and content. But perhaps now things would begin to change.
Audrey couldn’t think of it right then, not without feeling bereft. Things had already changed too much while they’d been on the Continent. She was adrift and could not consider losing another person she had thought she could depend upon. Not that she begrudged her maid some happiness. No, she enjoyed seeing Greer’s bashful smiles, and Carrigan’s obvious admiration.
“You were in the lady’s cabin for the entire trip from Calais,” Cassie went on as she paced the creaky floors. “I can vouch for you. So can several other women. You did not leave once. How can the captain think you killed someone?”
As before when Cassie posed the question, Audrey did not have an answer. The captain’s mention of a note pointing a finger at Audrey had continued to perplex her. Was there some connection to the note left for her on her pillow at Hotel d’Angleterre the day before they departed for Calais? She wanted to see this new note. Compare it to the one currently in her pocket.
“I am certain when the magistrate arrives, he will hear our claims and see reason,” Audrey said.
Though, she did worry about the other ladies in the cabin being able to support her claim about not leaving for the whole of the crossing. While detained in the packet office, she’d witnessed the other passengers departing from the docks. Were they not being held for questioning?
“I don’t understand how you can be so calm,” Cassie said as she paced.
That wasn’t the case in the least. Audrey simply had plenty of practice concealing her emotions. First, with her mother and uncle, who had been her staunchest critics. And then, as the former Duchess of Fournier. She had trained herself to appear and act aloof when she was duchess. It was the best deterrent for conversation, and keeping people distant was something she and Philip had both agreed was imperative. The closer one became, the better the chance they would see the truth. She and Philip had done well pretending at a love match; they had cultivated the appearance of being so smitten with one another, they naturally set themselves apart from the rest of the beau monde. It had worked well. For a time.
“I am far too ravenous to exert as much energy as you are, dear Cassie,” she said, making light of it. They had not eaten since leaving France. The crossing had been too rough to even think about food. Now, they had not even been offered tea until Greer complained to the packet office administrator, Mr. Fulton.
At last, the front door to the office opened, and the agonizing wait ended. A tall man in a snow-dusted greatcoat and top hat swept inside the small office, accompanied by the captain. A pair of cold blue eyes landed upon Audrey and held. His expression was wooden as he removed his hat and gloves with unhurried precision, and he did not speak at all. He was an older man, and somewhat handsome, but he had an arrogance to him that was instantly perceptible. She stood as he walked toward her, his attention slipping from her face to her clothing, down to the tips of her half-boots, and then back up again. She had the impression he found her lacking.
