“Could be,” the admiral replied.
Stone followed her gaze until it alighted on Bill Eggers and his wife, Suzanne. He laughed. “That gentleman is the managing partner of the law firm to which I am of counsel,” he said, “and I’m not certain anyone in diplomatic circles would consider him important enough for Krug.”
“Oh,” Felicity said. “And whom do we have here?” she asked, looking toward the door, where the butler was about to announce a portly man and his elegant wife.
“Lord and Lady Wight,” the butler intoned.
“What a coincidence,” Stone said.
“Yesss,” Felicity drawled.
20
Stone had not set eyes on Lord and Lady Wight since he had been a guest in their country home a few years before. Wight had been the subject of an investigation by the House of Lords at the time, and the supposition was that he might be stripped of his peerage and perhaps even go to prison. Stone and one of their daughters, Sarah, a painter and sculptor, had been close then.
The Wights spotted Stone and came over. “Barrington, isn’t it?” Wight asked.
“It is, your lordship,” Stone replied. “Your ladyship, it’s good to see you again.”
“And you, Mr. Barrington,” she replied. “Sarah still speaks of you.”
“That’s kind of her,” Stone replied. “May I present Dame Felicity Devonshire?”
“Howjado,” Wight replied.
“So nice,” echoed his wife. Both of them looked right through her, having no idea who she was.
“How do you do, Lord Wight, Lady Wight,” Felicity said. Then, turning to him, “I believe you knew my father.”
Wight looked at her blankly for a moment, then the penny dropped. “Why of course,” he said. “You remember General Sir Giles Devonshire, my dear.”
“Of course I do,” Lady Wight replied. “Such a dear man. How is he?”
“Deceased,” Felicity replied. “Last year.”
“Saw the obit in the Telegraph,” Wight replied. “So very sorry.”
“Thank you,” Felicity said.
Wight narrowed his eyes in thought. “I believe he had a sort of second career after his retirement from the army, didn’t he? In Whitehall or someplace?”
“A minor post,” Felicity replied, “but it kept him busy.”
Lady Wight tugged at her husband’s sleeve. “Must check in with the ambassador,” she said.
“Oh, Lord Wight,” Stone said. “I believe you’re acquainted with a Mr. Stanley Whitestone.”
Wight looked momentarily alarmed, then he lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, yes, decent fellow,” he replied.
“Where is he these days?” Stone asked.
“Oh, dear, I’m not sure I know,” Wight replied. “Believe he was in Cairo for a spell; lost track of him after that. Will you excuse us? Must check in with the ambassador.” He hustled his wife toward the other side of the room.
“That was very direct,” Felicity said. “Very clever, too.”
“Thank you, but why?”
“Now we know that Wight knows where Whitestone is,” she said.