Page 84 of Miss Moriarty, I Presume?
“No.”
“When did you change your mind?”
Livia heard a crinkling sound—she was crushing a corner of the gazette in her hand. When Mrs. Watson had told the story, it was clear that even when she called on Miss Baxter, at first she suspected that she might be meeting a substitute, a hired actress. But Lord Ingram—if Livia caught Charlotte’s drift, Lord Ingram had shed his original theory well before that.
Charlotte, too.
What hadtheyseen?
“I began having second thoughts when it turned out that Miss Baxter’s lodge was still tightly guarded after Mr. Young, the fireworks-igniting troublemaker, had been dispatched back to the village,” said Lord Ingram, his head bent, his chin between thumb and forefinger. “I became convinced that someone was in it when a person, possibly Mrs. Crosby, began running back and forth between her house and Miss Baxter’s.”
“All that running would indeed have been unnecessary if they’d been guarding an empty house,” said Charlotte. Softly, she pried open Livia’s still clenched fingers from the gazette. “Shortly after midnight, when Mrs. Crosby claimed that Miss Baxter was sleeping too soundly to be awakened, and refused to allow anyone to carry her out—while flames licked at the wall of her lodge—it seemed more likely than ever that there was no Miss Baxter inside and that all Mrs. Crosby and her cohorts guarded was the paper-thin fiction of her presence. But…”
She inclined her head at Mrs. Watson. “Ma’am, if you’ll forgive me, I did not tell you about my visit to Dr. Robinson’s cottage the night of the fireworks. This was after everyone in the Garden had been sent home and Lord Ingram and I went out again. While I was inside Dr. Robinson’s cottage, he came back.”
Mrs. Watson emitted a small cry.
“Don’t worry, he didn’t know I was there. He was in a hurry—grabbed a few things and left. In addition to his doctor’s bag, he also took carbolic acid and chloroform.”
With that combination of an antiseptic and an anesthetic…
“He had to perform surgery?” asked Livia.
“Not necessarily,” said Charlotte. “Our sovereign was administered chloroform on two occasions that were not surgical in nature.”
It took Livia a moment to understand what she was talking about. Her chin fell. Across the parlor, Mrs. Watson was similarly slack-jawed.
Livia would not have known what Charlotte was referring to but for their eldest sister Henrietta, who had insisted on being given chloroform for her confinement, over their mother’s objection. Henrietta had prevailed because she’d pointed out that the queen herself had taken advantage of the anesthetic for the births of her two youngest children, therefore the use of chloroform was royally sanctioned for all her female subjects.
Mrs. Watson held her hands together just in front her chin, almost as if she were fending off something. “Miss Baxter waswith child?”
She spoke in a barely audible whisper, but the question was no less thunderous. Livia, though she’d been thinking of the same, nearly jumped.
“And possibly gave birth the night of the fireworks,” said Charlotte. “Childbirth would not have been my first suspicion had she not received us the next evening, looking splendid. There are many medical applications for carbolic acid and chloroform—she could have had an appendectomy.
“She did not, however, strike me as someone recovering from surgery, or a prolonged illness. But if her condition had been a case of advanced pregnancy, then everything made sense, especially with regard to the fact that, out of the blue, she could meet with us. One should not tight-lace with a child in utero. But when the womb is once again empty, with the judicious use of a long corset, who could tell that a woman has recently given birth?”
A hush fell.
“So Mrs. Felton—and some members of the Garden—hadn’t seen Miss Baxter for months because she was obviously with child and couldn’t be seen,” marveled Livia.
“I had a look at Dr. Watson’s books earlier. There is a condition calledhyperemesis gravidarum, when an expectant mother suffers from symptoms far in excess of normal morning sickness. Which might explain why for some months, whenever Mrs. Felton did see her, she looked tired and unwell.”
“So perhaps Mr. Peters wasn’t lying after all, when he said that he’d seen Miss Baxter out for a walk late at night.” Mrs. Watson covered her mouth. “Oh my, do you suppose that despite all of Miss Baxter’s precautions, Mr. Craddock saw her in her condition?”
“That would be my guess.”
The idea of a splendid-looking Miss Baxter coolly ordering the killing of her father’s minion who had become too great an inconvenience... Livia shivered. “If that were the case then Miss Baxter really had reason to want Mr. Craddock gone. But who was the man walking around and calling himself Craddock then? An imposter put in place?”
Charlotte thought for a moment. “Possibly. De Lacey once again did not answer my question as to whether Moriarty still had more people in the compound. Were I Miss Baxter, I would have put an imposter in place, so as not to alert anyone that Mr. Craddock is no more.”
Livia frowned. “But if the truth is anything close to our conjecture, then Miss Baxter will be thoroughly displeased to have you look into Mr. Craddock’s fate, won’t she?”
The next moment blood drained from her face. “My goodness, Charlotte,thatis why Moriarty keeps sending you into the Garden of Hermopolis. First he thought something untoward happened to Miss Baxter and wanted whoever harmed her to harm you too—the fireworks and whatnot was his attempt to force their hand, wasn’t it? Except Miss Baxter wasn’t dead and he didn’t succeed. Now that his watchdog is missing, he wantsMiss Baxterto remove you, because she wouldn’t wish for you to look too closely at Mr. Craddock’s disappearance!”
Mrs. Watson’s right hand opened and clenched, opened and clenched. Lord Ingram picked up a miniature marble bust of Diana of Versailles from the mantel and weighed it in his palm, as if gauging its potential as a weapon. Charlotte, rising from the window seat to open a biscuit jar at the sideboard, seemed barely concerned.
“Before he joined us in Cornwall, Lord Ingram went to see Lord Bancroft. Lord Bancroft mentioned that Lord Remington likely considers me a latent agent of the Crown and would pursue Moriarty if he were to harm me. As far as reassurances go, neither Lord Ingram nor I thought much of it.
