Page 16 of Affair

“I received a note from Mrs. Heskett on the very day of her death. In it she stated that she had been nearly run down twice in recent days, once on the street and once in a park. In both instances, the vehicle was a black phaeton. She feared that the incidents were not mere accidents, but actual attempts on her life.”

“Bloody hell.”

“She did not see the driver’s face but she came to the logical conclusion that one of her rejected suitors was so enraged by her refusal to wed, he was trying to murder her. The next morning I learned of her death. Hardly a coincidence, sir. I must discover the truth.”

“And you expect me to assist you in this crazed quest?”

“Yes, I most certainly do.” She was beginning to grow annoyed. “You agreed to accept the post and I am paying you an excellent salary, sir. I expect you to fulfill your duties as my man-of-affairs and as a bodyguard. It all seems quite simple and straightforward to me.”

“About as simple and straightforward as the phlogiston theory of combustion,” Baxter retorted.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing, Miss Arkendale. I merely made a passing reference to that old nonsense the Germans came up with concerning the substance phlogiston. The theory was said to explain the combustion of materials. It relates to chemistry. I doubt that you are familiar with it.”

She raised her brows. “On the contrary, Mr. St. Ives, I am well aware that a few years ago Lavoisier conducted several exceedingly clever experiments that disproved the old theory of phlogiston.”

It took Baxter a moment to digest that. “You have an interest in chemistry, Miss Arkendale?”

“No.” She made a face. “But I was required to read Mr. Basil Valentine’sConversations on Chemistryin the schoolroom, just as is virtually every other young person in England. Some of the information managed to stick in my brain.”

“I see.” Baxter’s gaze was inscrutable. “I take it you found Valentine’s book exceedingly dull?”

“Chemistry is not a favorite subject of mine.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I have other interests.”

“I can well believe that.”

“Perhaps we should return to the subject of Mrs. Heskett’s murder,” Charlotte said grimly.

“Indeed. Tell me, Miss Arkendale, just how do you propose to go about finding the killer?”

“Mrs. Heskett rejected four men during the past month. One, a Mr. Charles Dill, died of a heart seizure two weeks ago, so he can be discounted as a suspect. The other three are Lords Lennox, Randeleigh, and Esly. I intend to interview all of them. But first we must start with an examination of the scene of the crime.”

Baxter blinked owlishly. “An examination?”

“I intend to search Drusilla Heskett’s town house for clues.”

“You intend to dowhat?”

“Really, Mr. St. Ives, you must try to pay closer attention. You cannot expect me to repeat everything. I wish to search the premises of Mrs. Heskett’s town house. I have ascertained that the place is vacant. You will accompany me and make yourself useful.”

Baxter gazed at her as if she were a creature from some supernatural realm. “Bloody hell.”

Three

She had readConversations on Chemistryand was familiar with the discredited theory of phlogiston. She could drop Lavoisier’s name into casual conversation. There were a number of excellent books in her study on a variety of other subjects that she presumably had read as well. What of it? Baxter thought. The evidence of an intellectual bent did not prove that she was not a blackmailer and a murderess.

Any number of well-educated upper-class villains could spout scientific facts, he reminded himself. A good education did not indicate a pure heart and an honest soul. Morgan Judd, for example, had been one of the most intelligent, well-read men he had ever met.

Baxter surveyed the fog-shrouded street with a sense of foreboding. The neighborhood was quiet and sedate. Eminently respectable. There were no great mansions but the houses obviously belonged to those possessed of comfortable incomes.

He still could not believe that he had allowed himself to be dragged out on such a miserable night to search for clues relating to a case of murder.

Charlotte was either quite sincere or quite mad, or she was using him to assist her and protect her person while she advanced her own schemes. A lady involved in blackmail and murder would certainly have need of a man-of-affairs-cum-bodyguard.

Baxter stifled a sigh. He really was not cut out for this sort of thing. Life was so much simpler, so much more logical and orderly back in his laboratory.

“We are fortunate to have the fog tonight, are we not, Mr. St. Ives?” Charlotte’s voice was muffled by the hood of her cloak and a thick, woolen scarf. “It will serve to conceal our presence in this neighborhood. Even if someone were to notice us, he would not be able to see us clearly enough to make out our identities.”

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