Page 56 of The Swordmaster's Daughter

“No. I object to being coerced.”

“Objection noted. Though it does not change a thing. You are bound in duty to your King, and I am his representative. My task is to protect the King and further the nation’s interests. Your task is to do as you are told. Have you interviewed the subjects again?” He addressed his question to McCrae.

“We have only had time to compile the report. That is to be our next step,” McCrae replied.

“I have spoken again to all but one of them,” Lucinda interjected. McCrae looked at her as if to ask, what are you doing? We have not discussed this. Cavendish also looked at her in surprise. The other man in the room must be a good card player for his expression hardly changed.

“Did you obtain any further information to help us find the perpetrator?”

“None of them could remember anything they had not already told me. However I have developed some further theories based on the evidence thus far.”

“Since when did women become lawyers?” The lackey in the room had a voice after all.

“Since when did men have a monopoly on logic?” Now it was McCrae trying desperately to conceal a smile. Under the cover of the table he gave her hand a squeeze sending a pleasant warmth coursing through her whole body which she attributed to the vote of approval as much as from the heat of his hand.

“I am listening,” Cavendish said.

Lucinda took a moment to gather her thoughts and began to outline the theory she and the Sisters of the Sword had come up with, firstly the conclusion that the glove was used to conceal a distinguishing feature on the rapist’s hand and his lack of speech as a way to conceal some distinctive feature of his voice. Cavendish stroked his chin.

“Most interesting,” he said, “and I will concede, quite logical. Though it does little to advance our pursuit of the man. We can hardly round up and question every man in London with an accent or speech impediment or some kind of scar or deformity of his hand.”

“Though there would be far fewer men who have both those features,” McCrae said.

“It would still be far too many to interrogate one by one.” Cavendish began stroking his chin again. “And what of motive?” He then went on to answer his own question. “I believe the first three cases were planned but opportunistic, perhaps designed to spread unease or terror while the latest case was more targeted as has already been suggested. The accent theory would fit in with that. Some foreign spy hoping to jeopardize our peace treaty negotiations. We need more information from these women, so I have consulted with men skilled in the art of interrogation—.”

“You mean to torture information out of rape victims! That is beyond wicked.” McCrae gave her a kick under the table, and she glared back at him.

“Hush woman, torture is a very crude method. We have far more subtle techniques, certain substances that make the mind more pliable and enhance the recovery of memory. We have used such methods before. They are quite safe and totally painless. We shall start with the latest case of course.”

She could not believe what she was hearing. Cavendish must be desperate indeed. The latest case was Rosalind. She must be the one Cavendish planned to interrogate first. His own niece! How could he? And if his practices actually worked, who knew what she might reveal? The Sisters of the Sword could be at risk. What a disaster.

“Here is the address of an apartment at Whitehall,” Cavendish continued, addressing his instructions to McCrae. “You will bring the woman tomorrow at this same time. I shall meet you, then hand you over to Master Browning, and he will take you to the right place.”

“Pardon, Sir, am I to come too?” Lucinda asked. “She will feel more comfortable with another woman as a companion, someone she already knows.”

“That was my intention. I am not the barbarian you paint me to be. If the session is unproductive, we will need to work our way through the others.”

Lucinda’s mind worked furiously. She did not like this idea one bit. Poor Rosalind only wanted to forget what had happened but would be forced to remember, all supposedly in the pursuit of justice, but only as long as such a pursuit suited the men. Perhaps if she was present, she could guide the questioning, so it was not too distressing for her, while at the same time keeping the secrets of her fellow Sisters safe.

If not…an involuntary shudder shimmied through her. She did not want to even contemplate that.

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