Page 102 of Affair

“Rest assured, there will be no duel between Tiles and me. We were friends once at Oxford. Although we have gone our separate ways, there is an old bond between us that cannot be easily broken.”

Hamilton stared at him. “What bond is that?”

“We are both bastards.”

“I don’t understand. What has that to do with anything?”

“The circumstances of one’s birth have an amazing influence on one’s circle of friends in later years. Consider your acquaintance with Norris. The basic element that you have in common is that you’re both heirs to old titles and old fortunes. That factor will provide a link between the two of you that will last the whole of your lives. You will likely have sons who may well marry his daughters and so on. It’s the way of the world.”

“I see what you mean.” Hamilton shifted uncomfortably. “Nevertheless, in spite of your opinions, I am very glad that Norris’s safety this morning did not depend upon Tiles’s whim.”

“Tiles can be somewhat unpredictable, I’ll grant you that much. But I think enough has been said on the subject of the duel.” Baxter sat forward and folded his hands on top of the desk. “Let’s get down to more pressing matters. We must find that damnable magician before he puts anyone else at risk with one of his mesmerism experiments.”

“I have agreed to help you, but I still cannot bring myself to believe that he intended Norris to die.” Hamilton rubbed the back of his neck. “The experiment went awry, that’s all.”

“I’m not so certain that it was a failure.”

Hamilton looked up quickly. “What do you mean?”

“I suspect that the results of the affair may have been entirely satisfactory so far as the magician was concerned.”

“What are you talking about? Why would the magician have wanted to get Norris killed?”

“That’s one of the many questions I wish to ask him. Now tell me everything you can.”

Hamilton sighed. “That won’t be easy. I have never actually seen his face. He always wore his costume when he appeared among us. It was part of the game, you see.”

“I take it that he performed his act several times in front of you and your friends. There must have been some distinguishing characteristic that you can recall.”

“Well, he does possess a rather strange voice,” Hamilton said.

Charlotte lifted the heavy brass knocker on Juliana Post’s front door and banged it loudly for the third time. Still, no housekeeper arrived in response to the summons.

The sense of anxious dread grew stronger. Something was wrong. Charlotte knew it in the same way that she sometimes knew other things, such as the fact that Baxter was not the dull, bland man that the rest of the world believed him to be and that the harsh-voiced figure in the black domino was deadly.

She slammed the knocker once more. Perhaps she was too late. The man with the broken voice might have already paid a visit to Juliana.

Calm yourself, she thought. Juliana might simply be away from home for a few hours. Perhaps she had gone shopping.

But where was the housekeeper?

There was no point pounding again on the front door. It was obvious now that no one would respond. Charlotte glanced down into the front area below the street. There was no sign of anyone about in the kitchens.

She had to get inside the house. She would not be able to rest if she simply left this place and returned home.

With a quick glance at the street to make certain that no one was watching, she opened the small gate and hurried down the steps into the front area of the house. Down here she was safely out of sight of anyone who chanced to pass by on the street.

All was quiet in the small, paved space that served the kitchens. Charlotte peered through the windows. There was no one about down there, either. She tapped sharply on a pane.

When there was no response, she tried the door.

Locked.

The decision to break one of the windowpanes was difficult but she could not come up with any other way to get into the house. It was too bad that Baxter was not with her, she thought. He was good at this sort of thing.

She took off her bonnet, held the brim so that it covered one of the small windowpanes, and then waited until a large carriage rumbled past. When the clatter of hooves and wheels was at its height, she swung her heavy reticule at the bonnet-covered glass.

The small pane shattered. The shards dropped to the kitchen floor. Charlotte waited a moment but no one came running to investigate.

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