Page 66 of A Proposition for the Comte
‘But you are a different matter. Your life will be a pleasure to take and the master will be here soon.’
‘Or he won’t be?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Surely you do not think the one who pays you would walk so blindly into a trap? You are surrounded and he will know it. Men like him are too clever to be implicated in the messy world of murder and treason. Whereas you...’ He tailed-off but he had caught their attention now, Violet could tell that he had.
‘You are the bait. You are the ones the law will deal with while he gets away free though there is something you could do that might change it...’
‘What?’
The man came closer, his knife momentarily lowered, and it was then that Aurelian struck. Without mercy and with a speed that was unforgiving. The first man lay at his feet as he reached for the second, a hard slash across an unprotected throat. The third man ran, the big one who had hit her, his cry cut off even as he reached the doorway, a blade thrown across the room to lodge deep into his lower back.
Silence echoed as pooling blood seeped into a tattered rug. An owl outside called across the night. Violet watched as Aurelian kneeled to each body, emptying their pockets and removing their shoes to search them before retrieving his knife.
‘People like this always leave clues,’ he said, tucking a sheet of paper away in his jacket.
‘Will others come?’
‘Perhaps and we don’t want to be around when they do.’ He stood then and took her arm and she could see the quick calculations for safety in his eyes.
‘We will make for Essex. They won’t expect that. Addington Manor is just south of Colchester, is it not?’
‘Yes? But there is nothing there...’ She broke off. ‘The list? You want it?’
‘There are still things that don’t make sense and until I see the written list I can’t be certain of who is behind it.’
‘You don’t think it’s Cummings?’
‘Did you ever meet Antoinette Herbert? A Frenchwoman who lives here in London?’
‘The name is familiar.’
‘Tall, blonde hair, with a mole just here.’ He leaned over and touched the skin under her bottom lip just as a flash of recognition filtered through.
‘She was at George Taylor’s studio once. He was an artist and the woman was sitting for a portrait.’
‘Was Harland present?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think she was his mistress until she became Cummings’s.’
‘That explains things a little bit. Amara said she witnessed a fight between her brother and Douglas Cummings.’
‘A fight?’
‘She heard her brother threaten him. They stopped though when they realised she was in hearing distance but she told me she felt that they were arguing over a woman.’
‘I think Cummings is guilty of taking some of the gold but I don’t think he is the one killing people. I think the list you found was one showing the hands in which the gold lies.’
‘You went to see Cummings? When you were away?’
Lian nodded. ‘I didn’t see him but I saw his mother.’
Aurelian had left London to visit the Cummings country house. He thought Douglas Cummings would be there and wanted to meet him alone.
The manor was old and run-down and the maid who had answered the door showed him through to a room after he gave her his card. An older woman was sitting in a wing chair with a knitted blanket tucked in across her knees.
