Page 48 of The Hollow of Fear
“Why wereyouat Eastleigh Park? Since when do you visit Wycliffe?”
Bancroft was the most remote of the four Ashburton brothers. During the London Season he occasionally accepted invitations to dine at his brothers’ houses, but rarely issued any of his own. Lord Ingram seldom met him except to discuss the more clandestine concerns of the Crown.
“I am obliged to account for myself to His Grace the same way you are—he doesn’t order me to it as often as he orders you, but it happens. And I thought it would be better for me to call on him now, so as to be spared a family reunion at Christmas.”
“Excellent thinking, that,” said Holmes.
Bancroft gave her a chilly look and said to Lord Ingram, “You weren’t planning on making introductions?”
“This fine gentleman here is Mr. Sherlock Holmes’s brother, Mr. Sherrinford Holmes.”
Bancroft’s eyes widened. He studied Holmes from head to toe, more than a little astonished. “I see. I should have expected an envoy from Sherlock Holmes, given the nature of the case. How do you do, Miss Holmes?”
“I’m very well, thank you, my lord. Should we ring for a fresh pot of tea?” asked Holmes. “You’ll approve of the cake.”
The cake that she hadn’t touched. Granted, the modified orthodontia she wore to alter the shape of her face did not make eating easy, but the Holmes of old would have found a way.
“No tea for me,” said Bancroft. “Tell me what you have found out, Ash. Is it really Lady Ingram’s body in the icehouse?”
“I wish it were otherwise.”
Bancroft ran his fingers through his hair. “Why? Why did it happen?”
Lord Ingram couldn’t remember the last time his brother sounded so baffled—or so perturbed. “I wish I knew. If Moriarty is playing a game, I fail to understand the game’s objective.”
“And the police? Do they know anything?”
“Do you remember when you sent your man Underwood to fetch Miss Holmes from that tea shop in Hounslow?”
“Yes, you were with her at the time.”
“Our meeting has been reported to the greater world by ladies Avery and Somersby—and the police are entirely seduced by the obvious. If this keeps up for much longer, I will need to become a fugitive.”
“What about your children?”
This question earned Bancroft a sideways look from Holmes. Bancroft was hardly one to be concerned about other people’s offspring, even if the children in question were his niece and nephew.
“Wycliffe will claim them, no doubt, and raise them to be stiff, pompous younger versions of himself.”
Bancroft nodded slowly. “It hasn’t been a smooth year for you, has it?”
Lord Ingram laughed softly. “Not altogether, no.”
“I’ll see if I can view the body. Anyone interested in joining me?”
Both Holmes and Lord Ingram shook their heads.
“Very well, then. I’ll leave you to your work.” He hesitated a moment. “I’m sorry I can’t do more. It is imperative that we not breathe a word about Lady Ingram’s betrayal of the Crown.”
When he had gone, Holmes said, “He does look a bit worn down. Perhaps my powers over the males of the species are more legion than I suspect.”
Lord Ingram rolled his eyes. “Your powers are exactly as legion as you suspect—you’ve never been one for underestimating yourself.”
She smiled slightly and touched him on the arm. “Frankly, I’m a little disappointed that Lord Bancroft came, instead of the duke—I was looking forward to one of His Grace’s deadly lectures. But now we must carry on.”
Treadles wishedhe had some time to think. Charlotte Holmes’s presence was hugely problematic. As a potential material witness, she needed to be interviewed. But Treadles couldn’t simply point Chief Inspector Fowler to Sherrinford Holmes and tell him to proceed.
Or could he?
